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neth jones Nov 25
cackle hack drab dog
outer  to the flames of the campfire
                                                cracklin­g
Way down yonder in the paw-paw patch
Bang in the first measure
Came the congenital seizure
Skewing the first invention from scratch.
The campfire skied its sparks
Into the ghost-ridden void,
The skittish tchotchkes
Of paradox and entropy
Quirks and tics as dumb as bricks
Until a headstrong mongoloid
Started groping for rhythm
In the quavering spasms.

Oh, but it was a jawdropper
A bang-up tour-de-force
A horrorshow time-warper
Of Luke and Kirk and spice,
The good apple ran the table
Till the old goat hacked the matrix
And the young hawks did their mind-tricks
Of a tessellated cat’s cradle...
And paparazzi made the odyssey
From planets Claire to Z
To dish how cosmic *******
Trysted protomolecule
As the major ghosted ground control...
In all, a very large array
Of bingeworthy groundhog days.
Lukewarm confabulation
Of the smoking embers
From the essential tremor
Ceaseless oscillation
Between good cop and bad copper.

And the girl scouts chorus
With cheeks full of S’mores
“For all of your fables
Of hobbits and hubbles
And sabering at windmills
You will never untie the volition
Riddled into the convulsion,
Nor how the campfire kindles
Nor be one of us.
You will always ***** the pooch
Halfway to the paw-paw patch.”

Nurse Dipso-Etheromaniac
And Dr. Thorazine-Brainiac
Shoved their two-part invention
Cold turkey into the clockworks,
Cleft lip
Fetal eyes
Flipper-fingered
Riddled with the shakes
Cold-shouldered him to another dimension
Where muggles punk ETs,
And their whiskey wizards
Serve up mock elixirs
Not some hair of the dog to undistemper
The secondhand DTs,
His doggo superpower.

Bill Grogan’s goat
(Bam bam bam bam!)
Was feeling frisky
(Bam bam bam BAM!)
Chased three red skirts
Across the galaxy...
“I knew you were one of the ***** boys
But why do your hands shake like that?
They flipper and gibbet all over the keys”
The sour-smelling teacher spat.

And the mean girls echoed
With tongues of acid
“See how they lurch and squirm!
You will never get to the paw-paw patch
You will never find dear little Susie
She will never teach you to hulu
And you will never two-step
With dear old Johnny
With fists of wiggle worms.”

He touched off the fireworks
Torching all your pomp and cirque
In some skullduggery
Of **** and villainy.
I, Dropout
Outcast
Clonetrooper
Mutineer
Hitched a ride north of the watchtower
Where imperial walkers with hooves of ice
Stomped the land flat, and late-blooming
Summer never shakes the phantom menace
Of the winter that is always coming.

Somewhere in the interstellar distances
Of Kantian prairie perturbed by auroras
Like those night-blooming skyflowers
I glimmered back into existence.
I drank with wildings dropped with the dead
And vaped the contrails of the mad rocketeers
(Kid Rambo, Def Louie, Jedi Freddy and Manny
Steampunk Sal and Wig Out Johnny)
But never found sweeter ******
Than the next bridge to burn.
I, callow flamethrower
Of Shiva, the destroyer.

Marshall Gunpowder Jehoshaphat Miller
The bad apple of the force
Hatchet-faced and porkpied
Dead by ****** suicide
Born again old-schooler,
Packing halitosis
From ossified canon
Skywalked me down.
Gospeled me like Luke
And knee-capped me with a curse
Shame; the oldest mind-trick in the book.
I served out my prodigality
In Ludovico therapy
Which for a half-life, somewhat took.

Headlong into retrograde
I crashed the zero-sum arcade
Fed a quarter into the supercollider
And with some crazy tic of the wrist
Spooked the ball’s trajectory
So it champagne supernovaed
And spat out the shabby ghost
Of a birthright lottery.
Thirteen golden statues.
But as the digits flipped
And the mission crept
As it does to one and all
Faster than a cannonball
I flashed back to renegade.

And the made girls chorused,
With cheeks full of Botox,
From their partial-view suites
And partner-track perks
Of bottomless cups
Of shut the **** up,
“You nearly made the grade, you!
But then you had to mouth off job-hop Hulk
Out, which finally betrayed you.
Now Security Guard Miller
Will escort you off the premises
For a reckoning with your nemesis
Regret, the silent killer.”

True, for a season I was a bluepilled moon
Marooned with space junk
And cypherpunk
Doomscrollers
Of deadend might-have beens,
Like the lunar sonata’s
Primal whisper of futility,
Until it tripolars
Into ultraviolent agitato
And hits escape velocity

Now loosed from orbit of the Goldilocks planet
I tumble through space in dumbstruck rapture
Of hurricaned stars and thundercloud nebula
I tremble in the thousand-parsec stare
Of the headless horde of dark riders
That stampede the stony hobbits,
Through the looking-glass of lightyears past
I see monstrous galaxies in ungainly copulation
Blushing Hiroshimas of atrocious release
And multi-sunned planets where misbegotten
Beings shudder into self-consciousness,

While I drift toward the event horizon
To be gobbled into the enigma
With a little gasp of gamma
Hammerstricken wires frisson.
Where the eleventh measure of the first invention
Counterclockwise corkscrews
Way down yonder in the paw-paw patch,
After a very long array of groundhog days
My skeleton crew bunch into alignment
Like that hunch of spooky entanglement
Or just possibly like that eternal dissonance
Quelled by a quanta of true arrogance,

In a clockwork grotto
Grows a chrysalis F-sharp
Where fingers at last Goldilock
Into queasy equilibrium,
To my dumb surprise
The dark sac butterflies
And there is Susie
A little tipsy
On hard compatibilism,
With hips of pulsars
And hands of auroras
She hulus like the time warp
Not spasm without rhythm
But otherworldly vibrato.
On the infinitely big and infinitesimally small, and deeply personal.
J Jan 7
I am black lace kissed with stardust
You are brilliant, well loved, faded tie-dye
Leaving the smell of campfires, afternoon naps
fresh showers, and sleepy smiles in your wake  
Bonfire flames licking the space between our skin
Heart beat rhythms drive the music
To sway against our heartstrings
Connected.
Summer rain runs down us steaming
Feel your heat getting closer
warming my bones
melting my center
A shiver runs through me
So in tune, I pulse for you
Aching with the distance
That seems to always separate
Our good timing
I never knew quite how cold I was until I met you.
Eddie Brewer Oct 2023
Sit by the fire.
Drink with your friends.
Forget about the fact that you're a liar.
Maybe someday they'll know.
You can't help but admire
The faces who sit beside you.
You get teary thinking about when they expire.
But they can't see that.
They can't see your brain becoming rewired
I feel that the best time to think, is when you're sitting around a campfire. True yooper spirit
Nigdaw Nov 2021
I take comfort
from the greasy food
on my plate
hunter gatherer instincts
sated, my eyes search
for campfire flickering flames
and settle on the fish tank
I am zoned
replete
in the cavern
of my own space
my day over
I wait for the miracle
of sunrise
lilac Nov 2020
there's this boy,
dark hair, light-brown skin,
his eyes warm like a campfire,
with my melting marshmallow heart,
my fever for him grows, i love him,
squished between the graham crackers of guilt,
because i love her as well.

-lilac
Mickey Sep 2020
Oh honey,
We are fireflies.
Dancing in the heat of a wild campfire flame.
Nothing can defeat us.
Norman Crane Aug 2020
fat drips
      fire, sausage crackles—flames
      hiss of steam
izi Jul 2020
Love is reckless, not brave,
Love is selfish and selfless all in one,
Love is faithful, stupid, kind,
Love is all the simple things, but rewind

And love is pain, confusion,
Love is a battle won but a soul lost,
Love is a storm, the pelting rain like stones
Love is the plunging distance between the sky and the ocean.

Love is the touch of skin on skin,
Smiles and laughter at the end of the day,
Crackling bonfires and whispers of secrets,
The smell and texture of her hair.

Love is the sound of bullets firing,
Love is the feeling of dirt between toes,
Love is the groggy bewilderment of morning,
Love is the walk down a hill washed with dew.

Love is being late to all meals, except for dessert,
Love is passing plates around, clinking silverware,
Love is the scrape of chairs and static of noises,
Love is the shape of his eyes when he glances around.

Love is the smell of the air after the rain,
Love is the droplets running down his face,
Love is the pen brushing across the paper,
Love is the bunk beds and sleeping bags and chatter.

Love is the sky, the river, the mountain, and the meadow,
Love is the flashlights’ light and the stars brighter,
Love is the loneliness in the field of the empty night,
Love is the loose circle of young and old.

Love is lullabies at night, crevices of her face,
Love is the sound of soft rain against the roof,
Love is the breeze blowing through the open window,
Love is teasing and joking and breathless joy.

Love is a warm feeling in the chest,
An intertwining of fingers, a touch to the hair,
Love is a braid coming undone gradually,
Love is a heart that is beating endlessly.
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