Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
sir humbug Jul 11
five years ago, June 2018,
I, poet Sir Humbug,
wrote:that the job of the artist was to be
luminous and dangerous


the job of the artist
is to be
luminous and dangerous

luminous to others
by being
dangerous to themselves

when the words are ripped from the chest,
atmosphere disbursed by the body’s projectile messes,
starburst fireworks,
luminous and dangerous,
luminating the shared night,
laminating your truths,
in poems disguised

and so the job,
our work,


five years on,
somethings have changed,
indeed, the dangers of
being luminous,
clarifying and exposing,
the requisite badge of courage,
need-be more desperately earned

the work is more risky,
as the rules of now are none,
and the risk of good taste,
thoughtful caring,
exposing you innards outwardly,
so easy to demean
and sadly
that titillates the iliterati

like a fire-working fireflies flashing,
their in-concert of ligh attracts the
oohs and aahs
but too,
the restless for glory,
opinionated blowhard,
whose critical boundaries of ill will

write on, right on
to be where courage be the
sticking point!

your verbs must be pointy,
your direction true,
adjectives of modest innovation,
craft harder, then harder again,
for the work must be honest
in a manner most delicate

now is the time of
subtlety -
if one must bang pots to be heard,
that you to are but a noisemaker, a loser,
an addition to those
lost in the din

quiet passion,
thoughtful insight
to inside, to the tender parts,
will rule the day

and the blow smokers
will rue the day,
as their pretenses chafe and flail wayside,
and your words,
be like sightings of new lands
where you take us utterly beholden,
willing explorers to places most wonderfully

luminous and dangerous!
  Jul 2020 sir humbug
Unpolished Ink
The months turn slowly
To allow us to reflect
This year wears a mask
  Jul 2020 sir humbug
city of flips
the best thing you could teach two another

is how to love themselves,
so they can return the favor;
now that would be a refund!
  Jul 2020 sir humbug
The High Tender

”for you both once loved that silky guise that so heightened
the high tender,
the match of your (her) pink rose skin letting, no!
making your eyes glisten”

wrote those words,
asking my interrogatories,
from where did I know this truth,
this allegory?

replying lying masking mocking smothering snickering
“you, the great lover, do not remember?”

they, not realizing that I mocked myself,
my cuffed hands that authored those words,
were not so blemished to forget the
high tender
they once contained
#high #tender #hightender
sir humbug Jul 2020
degree of overcast

so the day begins
and so will reman,
the week predicted
the same, only one
variant, degree of cloudy,
mostly, partly or just...

it saddens me deeply for
I contemplate all the lives
with this whether forecast,
or rather,
the absence of
the only variant,
the degree of overcast

9:34 AM
Fri Jul 17
Year of the Covid
  Mar 2020 sir humbug
gently swipes each poem,
tablet formatted, line by line,
upwards, studying it,
thinking on it,
then with another swipe, northward,
falls in deeper,
savoring the entirety

she mails me a completion notice,
with a kiss upon the tip of
writing forefinger,
the same, the very same forefinger,
that swipes her cheek,
upwards studying,
the poem of her face,
the softness of each line of verse,
thereupon inscribed,
savoring her entirety
Next page