Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
6.5k · Apr 2016
Code of Kangaroo Mouse
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
Show in contented rest
bringing ghosts
company wished greenly
how did you know?

Bleeding on too long
they had to be cut down
from hooks and ropes
in order of feeding.

Liars causing problems
complicated sacrament
with slickness
under blackberry briars.

Safe from hawks
stay in Juicyland
where it's prickly
free from ****.

This song triples guessed
foxy playing hard
around leafy bush
only snake does not miss.

Dance my badger spirit
agile amongst complexity
ward off and wander.
Kangaroo mouse prance.

Survival in stickers
only seasonal escape.
Where to hide from
next your sly rival?
I once relocated a happy kangaroo mouse from my home to a blackberry patch. There I felt he'd be safe for sometime, but there would be hard lessons. I still wonder how he faired at times?
6.2k · Apr 2016
Days Of Milk Toast
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
She served milk toast on Sunday
She served milk toast on Monday
Milk toast is what you might guess
Milk on toast with sugar and cinnamon
That is all
She served milk toast on Tuesday
That is all
Four of the five complained
She served milk toast on Wednesday
All but one cried, “We hate milk toast!”
She served milk toast on Thursday with tears in her eyes
The littlest one saw his mother’s streaming salty fluid
He said, “Momma, I love milk toast.”
The streams turned into raging rivers
Amongst all the wetness came odd quirks of laughter
Momma mustered everything she could
Next thing out was, ”I’m taking that job Dean”
What could Dad say while he sopped up his milk toast?
That is when Momma went to work for the phone company
They never ate milk toast again
Some days you had no cinnamon.
6.2k · Dec 2015
Cold Feet, Warm Hearth
PJ Poesy Dec 2015
Stomped earth with broad feet
Fastening fresh saplings into
Whole forests
Eight feet by eight feet, the grid
Through winter month's
To early spring
Line of tree planters, twenty
Sometimes less, sometimes more
On Shasta, on Lassen, on Trinity Alps
Douglas Firs and Ponderosa Pines
In Mendocino, in Eureka
Planting baby giants, Redwoods
Sequoias in Sequoia National and Klamath
Young men with ***-dads
Knew some old ones too
Women as well, though few
If you could bear the snow, the rain
If you could bear back-breaking pain
The glory is yours
As was once mine
Go plant your line
To be eternally in
Mother Nature's good graces
And kinship known by campfire
In my early twenties, I worked in reforestation. Though weathering most inclement days, as saplings must be planted in the wet season, it was a most fulfilling time in my life. I planted whole forests all over Northern California. The men and women I worked with were so deeply dedicated, and all pulled together to make camping out in that brutal weather tolerable. Some of my best memories are there in those young forests. I often wonder how those thousands of trees I planted, fair today.
PJ Poesy Nov 2015
Goth Child nursed his mother's tattooed *****

Snapped **** with teeth

Then grizzled grin at me and spit up

I poked at my chile relleno

Twisting hot cheesy sludge off prongs

Tour jete with fork finishes in arabesque

Between my own fangs

I spit back scalding ****

Goth Child points, says, "Pawpee, that man is scarewee"

Pawpee turns his tattoo tears to see

Flashes his gleaming grill

I sink in my seat behind sightline of salsa squeeze bottle

Chattering ivories
Life in the neighborhood.
5.6k · Mar 2016
Escaping The Heat
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Where we shoveled coal into the furnace was an inconsiderable door. Behind it held ***** chubby cherubs with cherry tomato noses, whose job it was to keep the fires of our parent's liquor cabinets full. This they did to keep them from constantly beating us, but the happy distraction did not always work. So, we would pluckily go. Go to the scuzzy pond at dusk with kerosine lanterns and listen for croaks. We tied forks to the ends of canes or stakes and would gig bullfrogs for dinner. It became only momentarily mortifying, but was always a choice way of ridding our sisters and other clingy girls of our company. We'd fry the legs in cornstarch and pepper flakes and be allowed to share with the adults their beer if it was a good catch. Usually, it was. Most of forever we waited for teaberry season, always the best time of the year. Though it was hotter than Beelzebub's bath water we'd go swimming in that **** pond to reach our favorite teaberry patches. This ensured our riches and fame throughout our Appalachian village. Everyone would eat teaberry ice cream and sing our names and no one beat us on those days.
5.0k · Jan 2016
Crucify The Worm
PJ Poesy Jan 2016
Worm eats through to penetrate.
Trespasses, what ***** deeds?
What ichor is this to venerate?
How dare eat, how dare have needs?

Godly viral load unbeatable,
no t-cell left to count.
Wriggling in puddle inconceivable,
**** upon this crucified mount.

Lazarus, risen from the dead,
no dog now licks your wounds.
Lepers now banshees are instead
social workers which we swoon.

And the Roman laws and judges
continue blame, hand down sentence,
as degenerative generation smudges
out from existence, ***+ penance.

Dissected and pinned against wall,
this writhing experiment oozes.
Whilst priests and politicians naw,
compassion and AIDS funding loses.
We writhe. Yet, AIDS survives. Will any of us?
4.2k · Mar 2016
Thought Bed
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Refreshment, in form king size bed
Big fluffy pillows, sink disheveled head
Silken other body touching beside
Night's dreamless comfort, into it did glide

How exist delusion, tranquil pie in sky
Consulting limbs, spooning of thighs
Imprecise discoveries, feeling more at ease
Theories both wound in bed, confidently pleased
What were we arguing?
4.2k · May 2016
Great Sea Of Sand
PJ Poesy May 2016

King Khety is blinking madly
Haruspex has left him ominous oracle
Sinuhe is on his return, fugitive no more
Sinuhe brings with him enemy’s daughter
Not prize, Nefru his wife and Libyan lore
Sinuhe from slavery came, poet she did adore

Egyptian tombs do tell in detail
Hieroglyphic tales, this juncture of peril
Khety not King, but Sinuhe’s noble brother
Knows true King come to claim throne
Sinuhe the nobler, knows a life of none other
Than slave sold by Odious, the step-mother

Yes Queen Odious, deep in den of asps
Collected poison venom to undue her marriage
To Sinuhe’s father Merikare, Pharaoh of Moon
Odious’ ghastly act nearly tore Egypt in two
Her derangement sent Sinuhe far across sand dune
Odious took crown, added gilded teeth of baboon

Made her son King, though he did implore
Khety saw insanity and for what, he was in store
Khety remembers his Great Father’s words
“The heart of someone who listens to his temper
Is doomed to follow the stink of camel herds
Better to let heart fly upon sky, as do birds”

Yet by years tormented, Khety became undone
More like his mother and even more sniveling
Than the Odious one, so he did as he was told
Incessant dribbling marked a life for him
He minded his words lest he knew he’d be sold
Mother’s high priest Abhorus was bitter and cold

Sinuhe’s struggles were unknown to King Khety
Years of near starvation and wearisome labor
Made Sinuhe the better man, as he did never forget
Assurances of his noblest Father, Pharaoh Merikare
Virtue ascribed, Sinuhe kept valor in each trial met
Furthermore, his noblest task still to come as of yet

“Numidian Queen”

Nefru, Numidian Queen to Land of Libya
Recalls young slave Sinuhe’s hostility to captivity
His intelligence overcoming, who once would be King
Of Egypt had not violent arm but ferocious mind
Using wit to overcome adversity and words he did sing
To free his self of internment and all oddity it did bring

Nefru looks upon loyal husband Sinuhe
It is an arduous journey this man has taken
Her commitment be bound now by ivory ring
Loyalty to this man before all forsaken
It is spring, and amongst abundant life come dead things
Fledgling birds first flight failed or so siblings did fling

Now swept into his pilgrimage, Nefru perceives
All adversity Sinuhe did overcome so nobly
To her, he is chukar, partridge of rare plumage
It is to the ground, which this bird be bound
Never reaching sky, low brush be its’ *******
Though its’ song give to her heart an anlage

Freedom from slavery, is Sinuhe’s triumph
Vindication of crown be the mark of new flight
He prays to Horus Behudety, Winged Sun God
Nefru knows of her husband’s will and might
She gifts to him her father’s pinioned golden rod
Scepter of enslaver Mehru, and his feathered shod

It was not of great agreement by Mehru
Should his daughter Nefru marry a slave?
Much less to son of Merikare, an arch enemy
Yet he be so brave, impressions of Sinuhe’s strength
Be made so to change, very nature Sinuhe’s destiny
So much so, Mehru did lament in Merikare’s elegy

So it came to be, a slave marries Queen
Sinuhe and Nefru’s love broke all patterns
Such a love to win hearts of, Gods and Goddess’ unseen
Who rule other worlds and all rings of Saturn
History had never known affection so purely clean
Gatherings from far off fields came to witness such glean

“Haruspex And Detritus”

Haruspex, soothsayer speaks in half-truths
King Khety believes only small contingent
Be on way to Byblos, presently approaching Qedem
Little does he know, armies of Elephant in tow
Masses of feathered and golden archer’s stem
Blessed by breath of Bat, Goddess and her phlegm

Detritus, Animal Man, hired scout to King Khety
Possesses claws and hair of lion, his home Serengeti
Animal Man’s mane is thrashed in thorns and rubble
Smells of cat ***** but has nose that knows much
Such why Detritus be tolerated, though be much trouble
Haruspex twists tale of tailed man, speaks of him double

Calls him lazy, shiftless, yet Haruspex be cryptic mess
Detritus be banal yes, but true to Khety none the less
Knew his father well, Merikare be his master
It was always Queen Odious, Detritus distrusted
Knowing her demonic betrayal and Egypt’s disaster
She kept him in gypsum cave, scratching alabaster

Kindness had left this Kingdom sometime ago
When Odious and Abhorus overthrew rule
Merikare Moon Pharaoh mummy cry from tomb
Sinuhe ripped from his side by Abhorus
His funeral a very mockery and Detritus’ doom
Haruspex made way from Libya, eyes mucous rheum

Planted by Mehru, Haruspex be sent through desert
King of Libya be wise, sent this oracle as disguise
Not soothsayer at all but spy of opposition
King Mehru knew upon Moon Pharaoh’s death
Peace upon land would not soon come to position
Quickly he sent Haruspex, strangest magician

Detritus knew by the first smell of him
Haruspex came from earth west, not with best
Intentions to natural order of land and sky
And this test of two egos be quite perplexed
With each other and another reason why
This brawny epic riled through years gone by

“Ode ‘O’ Odious”

Motioning her battalions, priests and beasts
Evil Queen who overthrow, joins Abhorus’ feast
Beldams be this clergy, **** all about Odious
Snapping of rabbits heads in cacophony of blood
Plunking chalices of malice’s, sacrifices melodious
All in dark chamber halls in depth’s commodious

Stretching of intestine to fine tune harp
Butchers waylay innards with daggers sharp
Mawkish music be Odious’ fame
Concavity’s entrance a perilous scarp
Passers-by enticed by bergamot oil’s flame
Fall to their death to be eaten by dame

Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
Drunken mayhap through day and nightcap
She rumpus muck, she ruckus all luck
Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
Chambers fill with all matter of bile guck
Bites cobra tails, hooded heads protrude to ****

Death be her power to innocence’s pain
Queen Odious oblivious to her own danger
Seems unstoppable to submissive subjugates
Spinning her terror, cackle calls to maidens
Fem ferocious, how ‘O’ Odious undulates
Casualties collected in long hundredweights

Probity of her high priest be none
Abhorus puppets Odious and will be done
With her second rare blue water lilies run out
The Nile produces this flower of intoxication
Extinction of it is of all certainty, no doubt
Named after her, O Odious flora beguiles lout

Ode ‘O’ Odious, Ode ‘O’ Odious
It is Evil Sorceress and midnight blue flower
Power of it be all in her high flighty head
She misuses its’ tincture to her own final hour
Harvesting it foolishly, nearly till it is dead
And when it is, it will be to all worlds’ dread

“Oasis In Iaa”

Sinuhe receives word elephants parched
Water need be found, arduous trek campaigned
Nefru never witness such worry, Sinuhe’s face
Ox tail be split to drain nourishment from beasts
No water for miles, no sea birds upon sky to trace
Sinuhe prays, “Montu, God of War find oasis to race!”

Sekhmet, Archer Goddess visits Nefru
Great Lady is besieged by dessert’s spell
Hallucinations bring mirage to Nefru’s sight
Transfixed on dessert’s horizon her eyes
Contingents warriors, bands of archer’s fright
Paths set forth, only to journey by starlit night

At dawn Sinuhe strands his band
Takes his most devoted men of arms
Bhaktu, Parsi, Rhaktu, follow their Lord
Each having faith in man and his wisdom
Eastward they find Syrian tribe in horde
They are welcomed, none need draw sword

Master of Syrian tribe Abu Sefa
Understands who Sinuhe is and was
Orders falconers to find Nefru and throng
Apprises Sinuhe of oasis beyond hummocks
All are soon joined together in wine and song
Oasis found, Iaa, fruited land and lagoon long

Khety is warned of revelry in Iaa
Sends legions Egyptian arms, by order Odious
Anubis, jackal head God given zebra sacrifice
Detritus employed for battle with spears
Copper shields, mediocrity will not suffice
All swords be sharpened by order thrice

Lifeblood battle of Egypt ensues
Sinuhe taken off guard in Iaa,
Elephant screams to be heard for miles
Bhaktu cut down, Rhaktu not found
Parsi’s archers never saw such trials
From lagoons come seething crocodiles

Twist Of Fate

Rensi was chosen by Abhorus to speak for Khety
As High Priest, Abhorus did most doling of employs
This proxy Rensi though, be mockery of King
His speech more stammered than Khety’s noise
Grossly disfigured as well, soundings as mice sing
Rensi aware of this, musters all dignity he may bring

Perigee moon at present, o howling now
Hyena laughing at dissertation of Khety’s proxy
Ill ease overcomes this Rensi, an impediment
Speech undone on terrestrial stairs to Memphis
Escalades flora, fauna; monsoons washing sediment
Tefnut, great rain goddess turns world to excrement

This not so illustrious disquisition muted
By torrent winds and torrential liquid compounds
Tefnut’s tears plunk upon all, turning mud blood
Looking out from his great house Khety embroiled
Bares soul to Sobek-Re, Crocodile God; Sun and Crud
Sobek-Re answers prayer, suspending flash flood

In Iaa, as gore of battle ensues, fate lose
As twist of tale find new bemuse and worlds infuse
Detritus sees his lost master Sinuhe encroaching peril
This recognition swells an emotion deep and confuse
Detritus bent in memories flash reacts nobly not feral
With a roar to be heard over all, clamor become sterile

Sounds of battle cease and gaze of majesty
Sinuhe seeing Detritus is overcome by sensibility
Two old beloved friends stare upon each other
Dragging swords behind each move to indemnity
Embrace of each other; secures allegiance another
Sinuhe kisses feet of Detritus; calls him “brother”

As witness to such, all weary legions unite
Moon turn blue, assured sign of Pharaoh Merikare
Mehru’s star battalions federate Moon Pharaoh’s armies
Together as one to Memphis they shall siege Khety
Overthrow Queen Odious and her sinister parties
This mainly being High Priest Abhorus’ autocracies

Epitaph Of Detritus

Odious in lair drinks tinctures blue water lilies
Abhorus her advisor suggests only more intoxicants
Khety is shrilling at sight of this deceptive lure
Haruspex makes prophesy of Detritus’ betrayal
Khety sends hunters to trace Animal Man’s spoor
Abhorus finds more legions of archers to procure

Leaving Iaa and moving toward Memphis
Detritus is fitted by Nefru’s maidens new armor
Embroidered with gold, a striped khat is made to adorn
Detritus is humbled by Sinuhe and Nefru’s gifts
His body is perfumed and oiled; his mane then shorn
Beholden to the true King of Egypt, Detritus is sworn

Two men of different lands, both once slaves
Overcome their adversities and rise upon sun
Sinuhe and Detritus’ bond is legitimately noble
Wearing of these worlds bare them new providence
Seemingly this union appears fortuitous global
Keeping steadfast of Abhorus’s archers now mobile

In Sakkara, south of Memphis come tempest
Raining arrows as if raindrops, Sinuhe’s challenge
Detritus’ valor finds reckoning to his last will
Defending Sinuhe, Detritus falls to cumulating
By strength this virtue witnessed, Sinuhe rise still
Throwing down legions of archers, making his ****

Abhorus, Odious, and Khety with no troops left
Surrender to Sinuhe upon his return to Memphis
Odious drinks last vials blue lily tincture, expires
Abhorus struck dead by hand of Khety in resolve
Khety bows to Sinuhe and his Queen as requires
King Sinuhe , Queen Nefru read parchments and fliers

In honor of great Detritus and his noble deeds
Commissioned is greatest sculpture Animal Man
During its’ long construction, most joyful jinks
Song and dance to honor a great warrior true
Each artisan so proud to have heritage to links
Of Animal Man, Detritus, now known as Sphinx
This is my adaptation of The Tale Of Sinuhe. It is the oldest known work of Egyptian literature. This epic poem was written by me with the intent of creating a puppet opera. I hope to collaborate with other poets, musicians, artists and puppeteers to see this come to life. Between each chorus should be arias which embellish the plot and theme. If you may be interested in working on this piece, please let me know via private message. I hope to make it a collaborative work.
4.1k · Mar 2016
Bird Chair
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
I am a bird chair
Bird chairs may have not caught on yet
but I promise you
they soon shall
I work well with a bird lamp

Wave at Window and Book Me
a How-To-Encyclopedia
of bird chairs and lamps
Chapter Four is all bird flags
You know how hot suburban jungle gets

Stringing lights around moon
is not  so difficult
When wind is at your back
much easier in a bird chair
And with a bird lamp

Shoe painting is mentioned
in the glossary
just in reference to
sadness your bird chair
might be experiencing

If you wish to re-floor carpet bag
bird chairs are perfect
Big things are happening in bird chairs
Look out for bird jet next
3.7k · Apr 2016
Morning With Love Goddess
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
Venus did her thing again. There
in South sky of dawn.
Winked her shimmering darters where
fully aware, I was her pawn.
Witnessed this all did shivering fawn.

And my little deer glided. Soon
to leap then away.
Chased by diminishing stars and moon.
O so soon this break of day.
Venus left then knowing, her love astray.
I took inspiration for this poem from Robert Browning's "My Star," which is the first poem ever read to me by my mother. That tawny paged collection of poems sits on my nightstand to this day. Of course, I had a certain love goddess in mind as well, my dearest Phatima.
3.4k · Nov 2015
The Tickle Family Jerk Us
PJ Poesy Nov 2015
Luna Tickle eats only pickles and ***** up all the brine
When her brother tells their mother she begins to whine:
“Yes I did it! And left no tidbit
Is that such a crime? My brother smells and raises hell
And leaves the loo full of slime.”

Now their mother dear began to fear her children were obstructions
Never listening, since their christening, and wished for their abduction
So she planned a slaughter and called her daughter
Outside to the woodshed, then chopped her neck in two
She put Luna’s head in her brother’s bed and said,
“Now, they’ll be no more Boo-Hoos”

Now you know of Luna and her tragic ending
But there’s more to this rhyme that’s pending
For the Tickle name is quite insane
And was never worth defending
But that’s just what her brother did
When Mrs. Tickle met Judge Knuckle
And almost flipped her lid
“I never liked that kid from the day she began to suckle!
Why she couldn’t be more like me, or her lovely sister Tess”
Twas all Mrs. Tickle could confess that day to Judge and jury
Until brother **** chimed-in and confessed his sin
And did so in such a fury, it was heard throughout and within
The entire state of Missouri:

“I am Richard Tickle and do confess I am not fickle
In fact I am quite pugnacious
If you do not see the circumstances like me
I’ll be forced to be disputatious”

Interjects Judge Knuckle:
“Boy, I’ll have you buckled this instance to electric chair
If you’re not scared I’ll be splitting hairs
In a place where the sun does not shine
So if you care, you’d best beware
Or your Gherkin will be in a brine”

Now Tess screamed out and her mother did shout
In perfect unison:
“**** is my love and none the likes of any other hooligan”

At this there was a scuffle
Each dame was muffed and ruffled
They could not contain
All their angst and their pain
And it led to the ugliest tussle
For each thought ****
Was devoted to she
And apparently, this could not be
As we know of the trouble with Luna
So the jury was not out
Or even in doubt
Of these sinister makings and troubles

It was the sickest of affairs
Mass-producing glaring stares
From everyone within the court
Missouri Gazette’s headlines that day
Told of how they did slay
And burn the Tickle chalet
Leaving it in incestuous rubble
The lesson today to this horrific ballet
Is don’t live your life in a bubble
**** and ****** survival is no laughing matter, but what else could I do? I challenge anyone to read this to their children, and have an open discussion. It is a sickness to be stopped in its' tracks, as nothing good can come of it.
3.3k · Mar 2016
Dandelion Dreams
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
seeds spread by whirlybirds
couples who take on thirds
love flying everywhere
trusted not and the scared
a puff, a blow, and then you go
fuzzy flight to and fro
**** ball picked and his wish
to feast upon a dreamy dish
yet a breathy breeze decides
where scattering of seed shall hide
in the fields, or cracks of pavements
lovers bound in their enslavements
to one another's dreams
dandelion dreams it seems
always never completely fulfilled
dandelion will be tilled
from immaculate and pristine lawn
or in a forest by a fawn
nourishment it is for me
its root bound deep, not free
like those dandelion seeds
rest my head upon cement
men I've met will not lament
sprouts doubts of dandelion's needs
What you may read into this, in my case, is likely all true.
3.2k · Mar 2017
PJ Poesy Mar 2017
1 Kings 15:24-  "Then Asa rested with his ancestors and was buried with them in the city of his father David. And Jehoshaphat his son succeeded him as king."

Hand passes baton
Race not about runners
An objective not at odds  
To something further than singular
It is about the passing
Dedicated motion
Maintaining of
Exchange at maximum speed
Invigorating something else
Notion of familial  
Virtues vested
In a completement
Of the passing on
And a carrying of values
So well learned  
From another before
And His trust given
Rewards of a relay
Are plural
With an instinctual handing off
Of Faith
In a mentor before
My father was an avid runner, and knew the value of teamwork. This is something I will always be thankful for, amongst the many lessons he taught.
2.9k · Jan 2016
Blame The Offal
PJ Poesy Jan 2016
What Dr. Lector devours with fava beans, inside rots. Too much Chianti?
Not likely. Likely, not enough
but there has been much else. Still,
no amounts warranting any shy example of overload. Mild splurges,
done in high style equal
nothing in comparison to toxic
baths taken in industrial grindstone
mortors. And the payback?
Walking papers and abdominal lump.

Poke it and choke on acid reflux. Pop
more pills to keep it down. Downers
prescribed on more downers.
Feeling down? Have another downer.
What else can we do? Your MRI's
and ultrasound, unsound, do not
come with flag from foreign invader,
claiming this new territory for king.

So, blame it on the offal.
Blame it all on the offal for not
having guts and glory
to fight off its own infection.
And eat your chicken livers.
Fear is harder to overcome with each new diagnosis and prognosis, but I continually do. I'm no chicken liver.
2.8k · Mar 2016
The Poet Launderette
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Be so fractioned
my split personality be split
Never know who's comin' out
Kinda like the laundry mat
Does mine at the Wishy Washy

Funny how things get all separated
Whites all in a pile over here
Darks and colors over there
Breaks it down even further

Gotta lotta red
so that gets its own pile
whilst medium and light colors
be divided

Blacks and blues
just lumped together
Then it just gets all mixed up again

'Cause truth is
don't gots the dough to through
down that many loads

This riles Señorita Clarita
Thinks I'm cheap
so mostly, I end up lookin' like some
techno tie-dyed fruit basket
in girly pants

Yeah, still be wearin'
my sister's hand-me-downs
Be some hard times for
The Poet Launderette
Just hangin' out.
2.6k · Mar 2016
Matador For A New Millennia
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
I understand they find dinosaur bones there in your backyard. Big ones. I've never been to your house or even close to that neighborhood, but ever since you've written me, I am completely intrigued. What you said about me, I think about you in an execrable Hemingway way, maybe as in his "Death In The Afternoon." All the goring. Faintheartedness is nothing to be carried by bullfighters or by bone hunters, I suppose. If there were a way of going back to days of nobler more romanticized slaughtering in bullrings, without the controversy, I'd have to say it is more evident in our modern day Jurassic Park flicks where nerdish paleontologists are transformed into  fiendishly handsome toreadors.

I know I'm not making much sense. Bullfights and dinosaur rustling, what's to compare? One being non-civilized though colorful and bathetic, the other fantastical but forgivable because the beasts bite back. Oh, if only I could explain these machismo machinations. What a ruse. How song and dance does intrigue. Please write me again from South Dakota. I'd like to book one of those dusty dinosaur tours before I go extinct.  Bone hunts, bullfights, same difference.
This was probably way too precocious. Oh well.
2.6k · Mar 2016
Asterism's Greatness
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Pleasantries aside, did you feel that tremble?
Not earthquake, it was heaven's shake

when you took me

by hand
led away

deep in wood
and stood

Pierced constellation's reflection
Eyes sent soul's orbit
Forbidding further speak of

Harking horror
for it is tomorrow
and I still don't know your name

why your grizzly ways
Turned me into bait

Ursa Major I hear Ursa Minor

He pines for your return
...because you weakened him
The complexities of thought processing as a **** and ****** survivor. Always emphasis on survivor.
2.6k · Mar 2016
Bird With Lips
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Motion me your mouth
See burgeoning of buds
Blooms sprouting from your lips
Honeysuckle drips
You were taught to
Keep a stiff upper one
Now you let it loose
Grown now birdie
Set free your coos and juice
Untie tongue from terror
Your assailants are long gone
Sing to me your shadow
And spilling of your dawn
For those questioning survival, use your lips.
2.5k · May 2016
Immortal Three
PJ Poesy May 2016
Hail to Thee, Immortal Three
Knowledge we sing on laud
Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates
Philosophy, to be human awed
Teach through time, consciously
Nod not, what others fraud

Socrates taught, Divine Being
God not of brutal Athens’ passions
Entity of Beauty, Truth Seeing
Goodness unseen in day’s fashions
Soul for unalloyed agreeing
Lessons humanities’ compassion

Talk eternal justice, everlasting life
Socrates’ Sovereign Right of Reason
Clearly mind deceived sense’s strife
Invincible perfection be God’s season
Thus, our key to knowledge ever rife
Priests who find this, absolute treason

No church or Socratic school
A barefoot man roamed to teach
Socrates mocked for looking a fool
His speech not one to simply preach
Plato witnesses a martyr’s drool
Cruel hemlock, words did so breach

Handsome aristocratic youth Plato
Followed Socrates’ Eternal Wisdom
But soon to find his own credo
In Medara to find Euclid and freedom
Egyptian geometry to provide dado
To Plato life, expression; not a system

Eternally an artist, Plato did develop
Philosophic circle in Academus groves
Bring Athens, world knowledge envelop
Discretions of sensations, be not oaths
What man may be, an animal jealous
Plato’s allegorical cave found in droves

As Plato once be Socrates’ disciple
So too, to Plato would Aristotle be
Passing comprehension archetypal
Successions of genius’ visions do see
Aristotle taking it step further, as vital
To science of hands-on discovery

And this is where we see a parting
Of two distinctly opposing philosophies
Plato being at odds, with science starting
Aristotle’s truth, finding no apologies
Things not happening by chance imparting
Frivolity of duopoly, dichotomy to Socrates

But a new era has surely now dawned
Science exploring an invisible atom
And the seen and unseen correspond
So to Aristotle’s, Plato’s, Socrates’ datum
Brilliant new philosophies have spawned
An abstract notion of conceived stratum
I have always felt, keeping in mind the masters' theories, but also pushing new limits, we find our own uncovering of discovery.
2.5k · Feb 2016
PJ Poesy Feb 2016
She tips the toppling tide,
lavish underbelly of an albatross,
and how she rides.

Each wave washing
its imposing self to shore,
more, glorious more,
this gasping February seashore.

Tufts of feathers flutter
and dune grasses dance muster,
must hold ons,
this rallying of  the determined.
Grace notes, song of nature swim in.
Melody of gull, harmonious tension

Her flight brings tears. She is gone.
Will she weather? For now perhaps,
but not long.
Nature can take your breath away, and very naturally one day will.
2.4k · Mar 2016
Now I Am Nutrient
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Nearing great compost pile,
that steamy heap,
insatiable hunger hits guts.
And I know fortitude for journey
is contained in wealth of
centipedes, predatory mites,
rove beetles, ants,
nematodes, protozoa,
and **** of wriggly worms.

Virgil waits for me, as he did Dante.
He takes form of a sowbug,
but with whole of worldly wisdom.
Shows me circles to which I will fall:
organic residues,
primary consumers,
secondary consumers
and further tertiary consumers.
An ancient pyramid decompositional
processes the scaling down
before the rising up. Each eating
excrement of another before them.

One I become with slugs and snails.
Invertebrates shred meat from bone.
Flies make airborne my bacteria,
carrying me off to feed birth of
future fungi.

I am reborn over and over.

Never more have I known
anything more Godly.
Intestinal juices of earth, enzymes
and other fermentation
taking me down,
pushing me out,
transforming trash of my existence
back to Eden.
From compost comes a wealth of life.
2.4k · Mar 2016
Honeysuckle Road
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Honeysuckle running deep in nostril's recollection
Wafting nectar dripping in air, please stop
Must stay present, no time for memory swap
Sneaking in, yellowed dreams, desirous confection
O purgatory, keep me still, deviate no such inflection

Causeway flash backing egg yolk, and lemon spectrum
Road lined in runners, speckling scintillation
This loose maddening of honeysuckle titillation
Reverse your tendril's twist, quivers an ungated septum
Covers, green to yellow transitions, honeysuckle bedlam

I cannot dance down this lane for fear of you
Your ringlets curl, clasp, coil me
On such road of alluvial soil I see
How can I? Must I, escape steer of dew?
You're honeysuckle memory of all I knew
PJ Poesy Sep 2016
If charged particles are not guilty of existence, why would anyone be? Man who holds book or man who holds gun, the choice is neither obvious or attenuated. Reactionary causes rash tactlessness. Still, proof must be exposed. Who will avenge a payback unpunished? How to take satisfaction in evening the score, when so many more will fall before any justice will cure the lure to revenge? It depends, on how charged particles defend, or how you decipher foe from friend. Call upon prudence, or we shall see no end. Precaution is canniness in your own circumspection. Please use forethought for neither the neutron or proton are happy with these electrons.
2.3k · May 2016
Questioning Spring
PJ Poesy May 2016
Stars jostling whatever wishes
Nets cast upon heedless fishes
To do or not to do the dishes
Just is what is all this show biz

Putting flowers in a vase
Something that might give you pause
All that is and ever was
Much to much such harm caused

To be still and to never utter
Chrysalis' desire to ever flutter
Simple wanting and none the other
Bind a dream and watch it smother

How should Spring be so cruel?
Fledgling discarded as a fool
Not all adhere to golden rule
Who'll you'll find inferior saccule?
2.2k · Nov 2015
Early Phone Call
PJ Poesy Nov 2015
My minotaur has mad cow's disease.
The FDA is rounding up each one
in a forty mile radius for slaughter.
They're incinerating the bodies
at the trash-to-steam factory. I hear
gunfire and wailing children. Sharon
next door is in shock. She's been
on her knees down on the lawn
mumbling, "please, please, please,"
for the last two hours. Crimson clouds
bleed into sunrise. How will we
escape the seepage?  

I'll stop at the Getty for a car wash
before I pick you up. Have some
sandwiches packed.

O for the love of God,
the moos, the moos.
Gene manipulation makes anything seem possible for our future.
2.2k · Feb 2016
PJ Poesy Feb 2016
Adoring you is uncomplicated. The way in which, refreshment comes with your ravishment is treasured spectacle, and though your fans are many, this one broods. Pining for glimpses into your tortured terrine, stories of unplumbed eternity, depths of you, titillate. How more curious you become as onion peels, layers on layers. A sweet onion I might add. Yet still, one that brings tears. Tears, joyous tears, cliche of cliche, reconcile charm with burden of unknowing how an allium could come into a world, stinking, but make gourmet a dish.
Savoring her sweet oniony inflection, as I know my own.
2.2k · Apr 2016
Eat Not Of This Fruit
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
"You're ******* your life away Bobby," screamed Auntie Abhaya in her native tongue. Malayalam has many nuances and maybe a better translation is, "lightning currents from your privates and blast River Ganga, streaming your soul away." Dravidian poetics go as such and Auntie Abhaya seemed to have quite dramatic flare. In any case, cousin Bobby was once again, drunk. Auntie Ay, as we lovingly referred to her, in her fearless way, was having nothing of it. Worse yet, seems Bobby had funded his ****** with rupees stolen from Auntie Chhaya's purse. A storm of tears she was, in the corner of the humble hut they all resided in, in Kerala.

Kerala's backwaters wash in from the Arabian Sea. Tropical delicacies abound; markets filled with fish, pineapple and coconut groves, and an array of spice that keep the main agricultural commerce of India most enticing to the rest of the world. Yet, life earnings are hard and for some hard habits easy to pick up. This was truest in Bobby's case, though he did try and try to make his family proud.

As I was only a guest in this loving but burdened home, and recognizing a family crisis at hand, I and my traveling partner put forth finances lost to ensure our safe return to Mumbai north in Maharashtra and not embarrass our host family any longer. Though we had touched a Garden of Eden, the lesson of banishment was still at hand.
2.2k · Nov 2015
Crossroads To Himalayas
PJ Poesy Nov 2015
Difficult to say it is a crisis of faith

Deadlock stubbornly cracked

Divide intensified with fact so backed

****** is truth, lost memory's wraith

"Who's to blame?" as so often "they" saith

Forget this daft idyllic hope, loyalty

To nothing has my life compared

And as most humans, no heartache spared

No limits to its reverence and constancy

As God shapeshifted, any form but royalty

Kings of Kings, my Makers, Lords on High

Omnipotent theories to query

Over verses I've traveled, all but Kashmiri

Reasonably these to view before bye-bye

Off I am to Pir Panjal, where I shall quake and die
Written after earthquake in Nepal, which had brought sad memories of my time in South Asia.
2.1k · Mar 2016
Ditty For Daft Leprechauns
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Lost your *** and spent your gold
Drunk all night and you were told
The Murphy girls have brothers ninefold...
So, have you an inkling this mornin'?
Don't say you had no warnin'!

Gee those Murphy girls sure are pretty
But now your listening to this "told ya so" ditty
Got a bit fresh and way too giddy...
So now your hurting this mornin'
At least last night wasn't boring!

So next year's the same when put'n on the green
Remember the date it's March Seventeen
Kathleen, Maureen, Colleen do preen...
Just to count your gold in the mornin'
So don't be a leprechaun hornin'
Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
Any coincidental name of the same is sheerly that, please don't send your brother.
2.0k · Dec 2015
Countdown On
PJ Poesy Dec 2015
As molecules of cellophane and plastic plate mix with cheesy mire of microwaveable dinner, I make excuse in my mind and apologize to my already over-compromised liver. It's simpler this way, or at least excusable for this moment. 56 dead in Garland, Texas, I think I can be thankful a tornado has not turned my world upside down, whilst biting down on tv dinner rations. Still I think, can 2015 end any faster? These last few days counting down and the microwave's digital display bleeping, sludge discriminating who shall be taken. It's all so guarded and circumspect. Please, if there be an element of good, may the new year know it.
It's been a rough one.
1.9k · Oct 2018
PJ Poesy Oct 2018
As I am absorbed
in ol' buttermilk sky,
I stand ***** whilst my bare
feet skim neighbor's roof.
I'm pulled West, up. Setting sun
fans rays. Here, I am emitted
in nebulosity.

I care not what
hankerings loosened, let go,
drift back to earth,
to rosy, lilied yard
where chain link encumbered.
Clinical conclusion drawn
in misty misconception
no longer.
Intrinsic am I as air.

Spread my molecules
in scintilla of light. Yes,
even into gray of smog,
as I must admit,
to ***** parts. These
may rain acidic intrusions
in your backyard. Too
much to assimilate?

I never asked for
what rained in mine.
No impurities
have been intended.
Still, I must emit.
My sky awaits.
Catching next cloud out.
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
Frail demeanor of library index cards
packed with Dewey’s decimals
stared upon so many times

some of you stigmatized with graffiti
“Read This” and “Don’t Read This”
as if the vandal knows

I wish to ****** each one of you
good precise direction you give
care in punctilious hand print
of maimed athenaeum tenders
all with long stretched noses
bridging reading spectacles
eyeing out naughty gigglers

stigmatized themselves by
rolled up quaffs
with pushed in pencils
or retractable ballpoint pens

writing implements held so delicately
while you were ascribed

O index cards of my shielded youth
how you protected me, informed me

Guided me on treasure hunts
where my imaginings still take me
away, in isles of knowledge

information coded in numbers and letters

Yours is the power
Where have all the index cards gone?
1.8k · Nov 2015
Baby Geese
PJ Poesy Nov 2015
If she sang the way she looked,
you might expect Kate Smith
singing "God Save The Queen."
That *** Pistol'***** did not
come out, more voice pixieish,
a song unknown. Words were
bleary but delish were notes.

Complete meaning lost,
her elfin aria enchanted us. Indeed
there were whispers, "What is it
she's singing?" Then shushes
from those already spun
in her spell. We drifted into
her Mother Goose downy lullaby.

Fattened by unexpected
mellow mouthwatering coos,
her taken audience drank it in
and from beginning to end
were somehow morphed into
fuzzy waddling fans.
I enjoy when something so unexpected changes my view.
1.6k · Mar 2016
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Laburnum drooped its yellowest
Dull before me, sadly displayed
Benevolence turned jaundice, yellowish
Jealousy's desire, flowering sprites made
Yellow-eyed-monsters, distrust, umbrage

His look, laburnum, fallen eaves
Sun captured smote, yellow-eyed
Uttering to himself, "Mine," and "Me"
He went on as such, yes, fellow cried
What I saw, coveting, all yellow-eyed
When someone looks at you that way, you just know.
1.6k · Mar 2016
Early Phone Call
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
My minotaur has mad cow's disease.
The FDA is rounding up each one
in a forty mile radius for slaughter.
They're incinerating the bodies
at the trash-to-steam factory. I hear
gunfire and wailing children. Sharon
next door is in shock. She's been
on her knees down on the lawn
mumbling, "please, please, please,"
for the last two hours. Crimson clouds
bleed into sunrise. How will we
escape the seepage?

I'll stop at the Getty for a car wash
before I pick you up. Have some
sandwiches packed.

O for the love of God,
the moos, the moos.
One's moos may be another's muse.
1.5k · Sep 2018
PJ Poesy Sep 2018
Her steaming kettle  

window into wetness of what was

whistling jets conjuring self-precipitation

There, go memories

dewy laden long gone

Vexing saturation making tea time’s solitude

weep childhood, weep marriage, weep motherhood

ululating swirls in her cup

No amount of saccharin can sweeten  

sipping whimper’s brew

Her hour of orange pekoe empties
This is one about Mom's Alzheimer's.
1.5k · Dec 2015
Tattoo Necktie
PJ Poesy Dec 2015
She is like no other, always in her necktie.
I knew her before the necktie, before many
the body manipulations, but not all. I'd stare,
engrossingly, at elongated lobes, the wardrobe.
I, now, her technophobe, longing to digital
age do her. "It's complicated," we call it.

How I long to stand next to her at the bus stop,
like we used to do. Waiting, staring, baiting,
glaring, like we used to do, at Fillmore and Haight,
while we'd wait. Didn't care if my bus came and
left, sometimes I'd just wait for hers, to follow
her aboard. I think she liked the way I stalked her.

Me in my blah corporate attire and necktie,
her in her outlandishly wonderful. Going to work  
those days were keen broad bean, where we'd  
convene, sometimes out on the scene, or where
folks ought not be seen. And we'd just look,
for long periods. If we spoke, it was  egg white polite.

But that was then and this is now and now we
chat all naughty fun. I call her my baby, my honey-bun,
my long distance impassioned one. Virtual realities
do often please, something I like about the tease.
If ever again together, I'll be on my knees. She's
my fiancée and we plan to tie the knot.

Guess I'll be tattooing a matching necktie.
I popped the question, online. She said, "Yas!"
1.5k · Mar 2016
Cherry Soup
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Go, my friend, to Tbilisi, where the War of Roses was won. Run the mountainsides and fall into the canyons of lapsed eons. Sunk in the valley wide, past huddling of trees that open and yawn, sprinkles a misting of sunny, dewy rocks where a certain party of gypsies gather. You will only find them there after the picking of the cherry orchards, and if they welcome you, they will feed you their cherry soup. It will intoxicate, but no more than the captivating dance of cherry stained aprons you may be privileged to witness. Dark haired and dark eyed sultanas, ****** from healthy eating and laboring, do motion a curvilinear spell. Band with the men of that tribe,  if they will have you. Let them choose for you, a server of cherry soup. Though cherry season is short, your life will lengthen.
For Irma and Mookie, thank you for your loving hospitality and the cheer drenched moments.
1.5k · Mar 2016
In The Land Of Plenty
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Rattan letter rack stuffed
with hundreds of coupons
like requests to the Gods
sits under shrine
called the spice rack.

Little bottles
as dusty on outside
as within,
have no aroma left.

This temple's kitchen counter
top is mustard asterisks on
ivory laminate, so reminiscent
of ancient wonder.

These late '60's early '70's
design elements, lacquered
over with grease of yesterday's
din-dins, are only indicative
of where the resident wished
to be.

Now, even India, has lost
authentic texture, alluring space
and line, in these Internet times.
Though he can still smell cardamom,
nutmeg, and cinnamon waft from
Southeast. It is stuck in his mind.

Yet, since time of his dearly
departed's passing, no sandalwood
has been burned and he only
eats corn flakes.

America has changed him so.
Giving up so very much for so very little, in the land of plenty.
1.4k · May 2017
Dog Rules
PJ Poesy May 2017
Like a dart, I saw you, dog
Dashing from corner of eye
Bolt around corner of block
And I chased you
No keeping up
You've been caught before
Easy to tell, your apprehension
So I'll chase you no more
But you shall be lured
By a bone, I might dangle
Can't see me from that angle?
Down around end of that alley
See you peeking
Dog catcher's been tweaking
His noose
All riled, you break loose
'Cause to corner you
Would be my mistake
So lookie here, lookie here
I brought you some meat
Go ahead, take the treat
And know, you're free to roam
'Cause I'm a dog too
And this is the pact
Of our pack
1.4k · Mar 2016
Crossroads To Himalayas
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Difficult to say it is a crisis of faith
Deadlock stubbornly cracked
Divide intensified with fact so backed
****** is truth, lost memory's wraith
"Who's to blame?" as so often "they" saith

Forget this daft idyllic hope, loyalty
To nothing has my life compared
And as most humans, no heartache spared
No limits to its reverence and constancy
As God shapeshifted, any form but royalty

Kings of Kings, my Makers, Lords on High
Omnipotent theories to query
Over verses I've traveled, all but Kashmiri
Reasonably these to view before bye-bye
Off I am to Pir Panjal, where I shall quake and die
This was written during the time just after the earthquake in Nepal. I was also considering my nephew's fate in Afghanistan and that whole region's conflicts.
1.4k · Feb 2016
The Three Hour Tour
PJ Poesy Feb 2016
On Elephanta, we traipsed from our tottery tour boats onto venerable dust. Led single file up hardened clay trail to Hindu temples buried beyond time and grime, the temporal length of an entity's existence. Jungle encroaching, we were warned, "Do not feed the monkeys." We had no plans to, but we soon learned the monkeys had their own plans. Pronto, ******, and Scratch very quickly pinched, plundered and ransacked the box lunches we brought. Cheeky monkeys, ha! Toothy fanged gang-bangers more like it. Still, we escaped without the drawing of any blood, so we were grateful for that. Though my friend had lost her scarf in the tussle, and she kept telling me to ****** it back. "Sure," I thought, giggling with no chivalrous intention of taking on any ruffian primate.

Further on we became enthralled by the alluring architecture. Cave temples carved into basalt rock with Gods and Goddesses moved us deeply with their artistic and spiritual integrity. Natural light pouring in through vantage points illuminate sculptures at different times through the day, so the tour becomes processional. Devotion is seen as many offer prayers and flower garlands to the idols. Learning the history of Portuguese sailors using the temples as target practice is saddening and evident in the pitted carvings and reliefs.

We had been graced with a brilliant bright day to take in the sights, but this was not to last. It was monsoon season and scuttles of rain came dowsing our boat. Upon our return to the Gateway of India, we were blown off course, forcing us to land in an unfamiliar area in Mumbai where tourists were not seen regularly. We had to leap frog a dozen or more vessels all blown to port at once trying to escape the storm. There was a huge panic of tour boats and fishermen. The disgusting quagmire splashing in our faces from the harbor was mix of gas and oil spilled from boats, dead fish and likely other unnameable mammalian debris, plus general ******* of full gamut. All in all, we survived only to be encircled by knife wielding street urchins when we lost our way back to Whorli Seaface where we were staying.

"Street urchins," was the local term of endearment for the orphaned adolescent gangs known for robbing tourists. No one told us about the knives though, so we were taken a bit off guard. In any case, feeling less threatened than by the band of monkeys we just encountered on Elephanta, my chivalry kicked in. I picked one up, dangling him over the dockside. This show of brute force seemed enough to convince the others to withdrawal and I immediately freed my runty captive ****. He seemed grateful, though a language barrier was not resolved. I gave him some rupees for the newly acquired souvenir, namely the knife. He skipped off quickly with his bitty buddies. They turned and waved goodbye with bright beautiful smiles.

This story has no moral other than, when traveling without a compass, always keep a moral one.
Elephanta, known to locals as Gharapuichi, is an island about 9km northeast of the Gateway of India in Mumbai Harbor. Whorli Seaface is located on the opposite side of Mumbai (Bombay) on the western shore of the Arabian Sea.
1.4k · Mar 2016
Babylonia Azimuth
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
Measure horizon interjecting South Asia
Hammurabi formed Akkadian Nation
Babylonian beast winged lion
upon your cajoled eyes
Mesopotamian feast
a civilization dreaming
under oil fields now known as Iraq
petroleum empowered
How history repeats
in crude circumstances
Assyrian War rages on

Have all temples been replaced by
mosques or filling stations
for Halliburton to gas up?
tanks, projectile convoys
not a winged god amongst them
unless you count Mobil

Babylonia azimuth
combustible tankers horizon
sunrise or sunset
both burn black
We must eliminate this dependence which has caused the fall of humanity, once again.  My sincere condolences to Belgium and all suffering loss. Fueled by greed is this thing fashioned as terrorism. Greed has always worked this way through history. Cloaked in madness it is. Remove the veils of delusion.
1.4k · Dec 2015
Integrated Bird Life
PJ Poesy Dec 2015
May morning cacophonies never quiet.
Doves coos, repetitive sharp whistles
rising and falling sounded by robins,
who seem to say, "cheer up, cheer up,
cheerily, cheer up." Jays shrieking
whatever warnings they shriek. Chirps,
tweets, titterings of so many more, combine
in crazy compilations of some
orchestra without their conductor
forever warming up days. I do not own
feathers but all my body hairs do stand
on end, flitting as if they were. Then,
woodpecker taps against hollow
termite ridden tree sounding like
the strike of a conductor's baton.

Nothing comes together. A symphony
never starts, at least not one of any
great composer's. Just the greatest.
I spring from my nest. I do not know music.
I hear it and am it. These mornings move
me to ditter about, find my way,
peck my morning niblings, feel dawn
dress me in sun, make me lust
life adorned with feathers. How
possibility wings bring.

From flock to flock, I dare to fit in.
Learn new mating dances.
I like birds, mornings, mornings with birds.
1.3k · Dec 2015
Benevolent Heat
PJ Poesy Dec 2015
Up I go tarred tower chamber, and molten bed
Scaling igneous shingles, hard lava my flight impossible
Crawling lofty ambitions in metallic heat resistant robe, slippers
Texting my last, "I love you"'s before kissing Pele's mouth

She is kindness and showers me in ashen snow
Welcomes with sulfured gas and acid rain intoxicants
Heady now, provocative bubbles glow, spit, reaching her tempting ****
Eyes pop, burst, char, sizzle, every nerve ending cauterized

Magnanimous one takes me, I evaporate in Aiiaka-noho-lani
Given to the Great Cloud Holder to be carried off
See my dreams fulfilled in droplets shimmering on rainbows
Touching down on sprouting new ground
This is a pilgrimage of osmotic proportion. Diffusion seems the ultimate passage. Seems cremation will suit me best. Better than just allowing things to lay and rot. A wider transfer, diminutive atoms rising, spreading, casting further hope.
1.3k · Apr 2016
Eskimo Dawn
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
Choked up wonderment
still tastes like regurgitation
but numbness comes with it

It is fear
encompassing unfinished things
lump in throat
blood dropping degrees
in temperature
Chronicling this cool
deliberate **** of senses
incessant soul questioning

feasible future
nevertheless struggle
after eternal struggle

Eyeballing transports of delight
amongst wrestled trauma
morality’s cusp of change
Sacrifice or sacrifices
abandonment to death

walk into icy tundra
Inuit elder casting himself away
to frozen abyss
and crystalline corpse
for good of tribe

One less to feed
left on floating iceberg
Dark day’s sunrise
Senicide is the giving of oneself for the greater good of the group. Usually, an elderly or mamed individual who feels their worth to a community has diminished to point of burden.
1.3k · Apr 2016
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
So that eternal garnishes be exposed
not by being particularly good or worthy
but by sole grace of the radish itself

Carved into petite rose
striated to whimsical
red and white allure
not distant from place pulled
should leaves be present and immaculate

O what crunchy goodness it is

Long time hath happy sulfured
soothing comfort to throat
What wise crisp snap to it
Charmed these root veggies
and in that window box was born amorous
I like 'em!
PJ Poesy Jan 2016
Lucinta slams fist against her breast
Cerberus three-headed dog howls
In unison screams, either side of dream
“Take his body from this place!”
Christians march sewers of Rome
Mauritanian archer recognizes his face
Sebastian’s body is resumed
And buried at the feet
Of Peter and Paul, ground so hallowed
Irene and maidens weep
Her herbs, tincture not swallowed
This time it is for keeps
Diocles murdered twice
This Patron Saint of Athletes
Piercing arrows, which were undone
By Irene’s tender grace, now replaced
With blows of clubs by Emperor
Of a Rome which begins to waste
He saw it coming, plague of plagues
And knew the Christ was Risen
He ****** all from Milan to Gaul
And Christians were so imprisoned
And each convinced another man
Of this immaculate and pristine vision
So on it goes unto this day
Athletes wear insignia on silver medal
And delivery to us a new plague
While good veiled Italian women do peddle
The famous artists nouvelle vague
Will this martyrdom ever not settle?
Sebastian as Sadomasochist
Will you hear devotee’s prayer?
Or must I continue to pierce myself
With points from here to there?
End thine madness thyself
And show this world your care
Written some years back, this one holds a lot of personal meaning. I wanted to post it today, as it is the Feast Day of Saint Sebastian. There are many tales of his martyrdom, this includes my own stigmata.
1.2k · Apr 2016
Sun, Ether, Earth
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
As I rise, cumuli are my clouds
Purple rippling through hot pinks and gray
Waving to me in tattered shrouds
Above horizon of shadowed trees, come day
Commit to memory ether and solar play

For never could a photograph
Or great master’s paintings depict or imply
Phenomena of heaven’s autograph
Inferiority, obscurity shadowed in my sky
What wondering adrift, now present to eyes

Sensational this morning’s vividness
Ballyhoo applauds first light of dawning
Awestruck I am within this immanence
Call forth  flash of conception spawning
Clearest notion of  earthbound belonging
PJ Poesy Mar 2016
I tell you of unknown tree, actually two
Very last existing of these
Rarest pair whose limbs bend in breeze
Cling to another where others over grew
The Bois Dentelle have nearly been slew

True, I tell you, they exist on their own
On Isle of Mauritius in clouds
Elegant dancing sprays on limbs boughed
Tilting toward extinction, species postponed
Desperate in forest for their kind to be sown

Life ever fragile has lesson for mankind
Delicate is nature, so unpredictable
Not unlike poets, not wholly typical
Obsolete, humanity's inherit bad design
Man, save Bois Dentelle, allow history to unwind
There are only two Bois Dentelle trees remaining on the planet. The pair may slip from existence. They are located on an island off Southeastern Africa, known as Mauritius in its cloud forest. These two trees are very different from other species nearing extinction, in that they are at risk not for what men want of them, but that they offer nothing man wants. Rejected and overlooked, these rarest trees are victims of the more commercially desired guava, which has become an invasive force in these forests. I put to you, minds of reasonable deduction, what happens to poets when their continuation is found obsolete?
Next page