"corrugate" poems
Corruption and Seduction, twins living in discordant harmony.
Firstly, Corruption lives in a crowded home, in the lamplit living rooms and in the starched collars and sore legged dining halls.
Seduction lives in the attic, and ghosts from room to room, leaning on others as it passes, like an injured soldier.
Guiding into places seldom spoken of and rarely trod.
She asked him how he could change his mind so quickly.
I think his mind was never made in the first place.
Be it Corruption or Seduction, they live as synonyms and antonyms.
A promise broken, words thrown aside or forgotten, a trust crumbling to dust.
Credit this, not to one or the other, but to both, working for each other to accomplish the objectives laid at their feet by the gods.
Moments of weakness, burdened with fear and doubt, belong to this indecent pair.
Scoffed by most, yet intimately known to all, Corruption and Seduction manipulate and corrugate.
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 1:23 PM UTC
Melting Sarcoma
Cell Division
Warfare Conjugates a mission
And dares the fates to corrugate
Hurricanes of plated windows reflect as they shatter, their torment, drunken stupor invoked by habit.
They congregate as ashes, winnowing.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
early on the dock
the shipping dock
peaks peaking out atop
flatirons and boulders
still holding snowpack
some captains awake in their cabins
others guide their crafts to port
arrivals from madison, aurora, santa fe
hulls of soybeans, corrugate, and lotion
on the dock
reading efficiency and transit reports
quick greetings to the captains
then talk of black coffee
of nicaraguan beaches
of all that is easily accessed
by the regulated echoes
written on each soul
while small sparrows investigate
mullein and hawthorn
in tall yellowing grasses
and towering windswept clouds
move silently
across a dark exploding
dawn’s expanse
revealing the intentions
for the day
and all
start a new rotation together
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 8:28 AM UTC
En garde, grim reaper, Thou art
No match for me; the shade from thine
Wings will not cover my sun; I will not
Succumb to the swath of thy honed scythe;
Thy bony fingers shall not clasp my heart
And rip it from my breast, crushing ribs
And tearing skin to flakes and ***** I will
Not be an addition to thy pendants in
Thy closet; my life is mine and no one
Else’s; I did not choose to come to this
World and now thou sayest that I am no
Master upon my demise either; abyssward
From whence thou crawlest every time I
Charge thee to betake and lurk there in
Fear every time I stride by lest thy Perdition
Desirest thou to find; corrugate and shrink
And be no more thou foul fiend and dwelt
In the most far and unattainable nooks of
Visible universe and beyond and further
To be a stain no more upon the surface of
Elysium; and dare not to come back for
Swear I on the graves of all befallen that
No more shall crumble and resident the soil
To be a feast for worms and maggots;
No more shall deadmen walk; no more
Shall nooses be tighten and edges sharpen; No more shall battlecries of
Chief-tans resonant through the air
By the reverberations amplifying only
More and corrupting everything that it touches;
No more I say nor evermore nor e’en
A hundred nor a thousand years hereafter
Shalt thou straddle thy stallion and ride
With thy kin leaving nothing ye-after but
Decadence and misery and gloom; no
More shall I be the slave to thy sway; no more
Shall thou reapest the spikes of the field
Of Mankind; so hence I banish thee and
Willing to vow to defy every siege thou
Mayest plot; for to defend those of
A-kin to me is my holy duty that I
Determine to accomplish despite all
Thy charges; so ready to prepare
Thyself, Angel of Death, and come
And get what thou deservest from
The hand that wields the flaming sword,
For thy own death shall the very last be
Dec 3, 2019
Dec 3, 2019 at 10:01 AM UTC