"foray" poems
dust cloud heavy
in an apricot sky
cottonwood mucker
under ambrose pale
whippet and shepherd
mill at the earth patch
yellow birch hangs
over red bench park
combine shavings
in crack rust brown
scissors chips fall
at the back stop
whiskey jack looters
sing patented chords
siblings (and 2 wheel enthusiasts!)
give thanks
joyous retrievers
master the criss cross
bare maples stand
at settlers way
barred owl and blue jay
whistle in the fore-wind
ghosts
and goblins
pull on the seeds
wind gusts belt
over the west gulch
a blood rush churns
in the chilling fall morn
hallowed grounds still
at the midday
quiet reflections
of the afghan
and hound
jumpers unite
at the oxbow
route runners bend
(on a sultry foray!)
meadows exposed
in the framework
ball parks empty
with pennants past
barrel dirt favors
the brew house
crimson and copper
find bracken ridge gate
harvest hands savor
the honey and hops
blankets of color
for a winter's hatch
brush fire kept
under steady peruse
bark bites fly
and embers glow
pine cones drop
from the timber tops
3 wick candles
grace the dinner place
shiver and ******
at the piper's call
cob web dew
on the shadowy gates
a chilled mist mellows
the season's return ~
poets and artists
and dreamers awake
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
This world we live in is terribly cold
Stone hearts will chill your bones
**** your soul or so I have been told
By experiences of varried tones
If you could travel through
A mile or two in my shoes
You would lose your mind
And leave reality behind
Just like I did in a devilish bid
To try and find hope,
And a way to cope
With this life so morbid
Dealing with years of abuse
Each time I would reduce
And shelter my mind away
Blocking out the violent foray
The constant concussive ridicule
From parents with a wrathful rule
Their constant battery to my psyche
Has left me with barely any sanctity
Of mind, soul, and heart
All piles of rubble before I could start
So when I wander yonder, I cart
Around my dead childhood
Through this broken neighbourhood
While I wear an obsidian hood
So people don't see the real me
Enough said, it would fill you with dread
Because if only you could see
The face behind the mask,
You might finally know me
In a deeper sense, my task
The method to my madness
That I am acting under duress
I might impress upon your life
What it means to go through strife
You may have done worse deeds
But you didn't have to live your life on Speed.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 3:31 PM UTC
'Today, The Jay...'
I open my eyes to see its a new day.
Today, What's the day?
Is it Saturday or Sunday?
The only thing of which I'm certain
Is that its not a weekday.
So, What can I do today?
Without delay,
The first thing I do is get my tray
Light a blunt to take the pain away.
Inhale and exhale,
Through the passageways.
Chill. . . Then, light another, just because its today.
I'm still in bed, but it's already a good day.
I push the sheets and pillows out the way
Then I get up to empty last night's fluids away.
Then to the kitchen, wondering what I can eat today
What can I do, to keep the hunger at bay?
Maybe some rice and filet?
A little something to kickstart the day.
While the food preps, I go back to my tray.
I smile and giggle as I sculpt my one true love, the Jay
With me at any time, anywhere, in any form, on any day.
Even though I'm already high; 'Hooray'.
I still want another hit of the Jay
The Jay,
Hits, Without delay.
Stays,
When everyone goes away.
Fades,
All the pain away.
My worries, It allays.
My happiness, it brings to the fray.
Keeps my mind, from going astray.
Literally, takes my breath away.
Causes, no form of decay
Keeps me, from getting 'ire'
Doesn't negotiate, doesn't parlay.
Just good vibes, all the way.
The love of the Jay;
Isn't just a single foray.
Its a constant exchange,
Everyday.
It's a feeling, that once attained,
Nothing, will ever take its place.
And there goes the tale of my day,
Spent with my true love, the Jay.
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
For my morning run, it rains again.
I run into town every morning anyway.
Some day they'll be flooding, I think, when
the rain realizes it won't stop my foray.
Oddly, no one in this town would blame me then.
I think that's what keeps me on my merry way.
It's hard to step out of my sunny shell, and let the rain soak my hide.
Yet I'll keep smiling when it rains; that means once again I made it outside.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 8:04 AM UTC
Match, match forward and go, you heroic sons of America
Reconnoiter into the strongholds of boko haram,
And restore our captive girls from the foul custody,
Lawlessly held hostage by the connoisseurs of terror,
Go on and recover poor souls from ribald of religion
Impishly created by Moslem from the satanic verses,
Regulating foray of terror on the poor of the poor
****** mahyeming, looting and executing massacres,
Match on and on yee angels of democracy,
Don’t stop in any haste or in any wonder,
To help in the sham flabbergastations,
About the Igbos who fought the Biafra,
And the Yorubas who federally defended,
Under the aegis of Obasanjo the Sandhurst
General, where are they all to save the girls
Of Nigeria from the Islamist terror
Excuted by boko haram the handmaid of evil.
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
We two boys together clinging,
One the other never leaving,
Up and down the roads going—North and South excursions making,
Power enjoying—elbows stretching—fingers clutching,
Arm’d and fearless—eating, drinking, sleeping, loving,
No law less than ourselves owning—sailing, soldiering, thieving, threatening,
Misers, menials, priests alarming—air breathing, water drinking, on the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness chasing,
Fulfilling our foray.
4k
I cannot recall the precise moment of my arrival at Anhedonia
memories blindsided by a phantasmagoric comorbid collage of cant
precipitated by some newspaper reportage or holocaust story
some creepy instance that breached the precipice between simple sorrow and permanent melancholia
some fatal blow that cinched the deal
some horrid event that could not heal
some dejected disappointment that could not be resolved
some moment of unguarded clarity when integrity dissolved
nevertheless I have arrived at this mangled juncture
élan a mania not even Edison's medicine can extirpate
I was quite lighthearted before the inferno
before my brain broke
ennui now a turgid companion
feeding on gaiety, never sated, seeking famine
esurient unrelenting usurper of happiness
go away, leave me alone, relish some other soul's madness
gone is any exuberance, glee or mirth
miseries are mine, many the days since birth
better I was carried from the womb straight to the grave
a fatuous existence, clamoring and grasping in vain
it's as if I was born into a well
but these waters they burn
the bludgeoning alcohol a liquid hell
Oh florid loquacity, you are an impostor
your verse is an adversary
a foray of jagged rhythm justifying a storm
a sordid verbosity assuring no norm
a plaintive scratching guild of recriminative collaboration
some alliance of fulminating disquietude
the cost for the fare on the adventure to:
the stunning moment you too will visit Anhedonia
Feb 15, 2014
Feb 15, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
---
**i'm here
invisible hand
retching in your pocket
reaching in your face
teaching all
or nothing
blue bottles buzz
round my head in circles
making me dizzy
I pick a posie of dandilions
gone to seed
I foray about
looking for the shiniest
diamonds in aluminum cans
the brass ring
must certainly be
tarnished gold
the forge bellows that is my chest
heaves in another cough
cooling my tounge
the empty wind that echos ashes
spent embers collect
in the cracks
of the
abyss
my bones which were disjointed
oh so slowly reassemble
instantly
but someone
at the factory didn't
read the
destructions
my legs are arms
my hands
feet
i lie under a cold
sky
in july
oh don't cry
when i die
no whitened seplechur my inheritance
my epitaph nonsense
a palm tree o'r my
grave**
soulsurvivor
(C) 6/13/2015
Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphorias of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix are pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
May 29, 2019
May 29, 2019 at 11:35 AM UTC
Lupine casts the shadows
Tattooed on the skins of
Twining lovers.
Their pale ******
Intensifies the purple and violet
Splashes dotted on the soft green rugs.
The two lovers roll
Atop and under,
Aside and over,
Their sweet sweat distracts the bees from
Their honey foray.
Bees buzz
Lovers sigh
Perfection in its abundance.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Noon had barely finished his circuit
when I engaged the Sun in conversation,
wondering if her healing rays were a golden ode to pain?
Abruptly interrupted;
shirts' silk thread dripping displeasure,
at the sudden moistness of its condition.
In return and in much the same verbal position,
I chided this thread,
intoxicated with sticky saline libation,
much less for the distraction
as opposed to the - parley intrusion,
citing;
“My dear shirt it’s impolite to gravitate beyond one's social inclusion”
Instinctively,
back and fingers joined this spoken foray
distancing themselves in unison
from the sozzled garments' argument.
Arching and pulling away,
his company no longer entreated,
whatever beauty he had,
now lost,
in his present
dis - position.
In agreement and sunshine unabating,
I attempted to continue our once lovely conversation.
But she;
her glow unwaning,
had moved on,
no longer finding such small talk entertaining.
© Qwey.ku
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 12:41 PM UTC
Maieutic dreamer, the ecstatic euphoria of cerebral cortex’s ****** matrix is pandemic. Extravagant exorbitances of flirtatious flamboyance and flippantly flighty flit-ness. But what of stint-ness snities? Excruciating exacerbations of laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tediums. Synaptic syntax is fervently intense like a feral phrenic frenzied **** Ruminating humanity’s collective consciousness gives me hysterical deliriums. We’re frenetically febrile, atrociously impetuous impudents who don’t know our id conclusion from our impromptu innuendo juncture. And what of the organizational principles of our subconscious continuums? Do we only dream about dexterous articulation? Can we become the agile acuity we envision or do we wallow in the drifty drivel of dour droll’s dreary? What’s to phatic say about futurity fatidic’s forlorn wanton? We need chutzpah, moxie savvy’s panache. Is there no such thing as a universally acceptable ontological deontology? Probity is as obvious as due yesterday, ethology’s entelechy the omnipresent reward. Elan vital is not subjective, it’s objective. Explicating epiphanies of social contiguity’s prospectus so innate as to be irrefragable. Not perhaps the oligarchies of eclectic synectics, but perhaps the pugnacious audacities of emote to exude aimed imbue. Assay relay’s convey, foray delay purveys inveigh. Perhaps if we are all cogently fecund with our vituperatively vociferous the holocaustial cacophony of our obstreperously abstruse will be just what the grotto grouch gumption ordered. Infusing all with the capability of aspiring to higher powers and yet not forgetting the mystery of self and others. I know I know what an ingratiating sycophant on the introjection. Gambits of alluvium aloof impunity when we all know immunity is Epicurean absurdity, but I already covered that on the phrenic aimed holocaustial cacophony. Seriously of we all enunciate so on the diction of mesomerism's to punctual. Why can’t that be the essence of accidence ambience acoustics, the arbitrational attenuation of actuator's aorist. We are not ethereal, we are corporeally preternatural and the sooner we all learn to respect each other to that the sooner we can get down to the sublimely surreal in oneiromancy’s apotropaic panaceas.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
You were in the rear view mirror of my life
That one chance encounter to last a lifetime
What a wonderful day it was
Frolicking about the pool two strangers in a foreign land
The ocean waves beckoning us to foray into unknown territory
Sea urchins, star fish, and shells waiting for us to join them in dance
The heat of the day matching the rising temperatures in my heart
Overhead the sun baking our skin like a toaster set on high
Glances were exchanged but only for a moment
For any lasting looks into those deep brown eyes and…
All clean fun our laughter speaking for itself
Until the setting sun and a waiting plane ticket ended it all
Back home my thoughts would return to that day and you
Though I knew the city you lived in I didn’t know your name
Or the street you resided on but the memories remained
Like a haunting which would not go away, a ghost only imagined
On that rare occasion passing through your town
A watchful eye for the woman who now held my heart hostage
But it was for not, the years multiplying like an adding machine
Days would fade into night but not thoughts of you
Of that moment in the sun when all felt perfect
And then…it happened
A twist of fate
A phone call from a friend
A dinner
A date
And everlasting love
Andreas Simic©
Jun 17, 2022
Jun 17, 2022 at 7:05 AM UTC
A harsh wind kisses my fingers into sleeping.
Blurring the movement on the toggles of an anorak,
But my eyes dart quick, oiled and fleeting,
searching for my beloved old salt, looking back.
Funny, how in those footprints,
the piercing night that bites the ears and cries
can feel as soft as sheets
washed in the light of the moon, pulled by the tide.
this darkness which surrounds us.
it makes the world one of thrashing silhouettes
And as the earth breathes in gusts
It gives calmness to a mind, to comfortably forget
this, lulled swoon of nature pulsating hits
the windows, we can't help to be animated.
we cannot be closed to it, cannot obscure it
the call of the waves that past fishermen created.
pausing, that sun-baked, sinuous arm rose
and peering through his cigarette smoke specters.
the steam of my own breathing, softly froze
As the sky illuminated my weary lenses.
the theatre of sky before us fight light polluted filling
My mind left wandering like waking sleep.
These gladiators of light bleed ochre from shining artillery,
Their particles drifting into the night's sea, so deep.
Sparks spat by suns lie suspended above me
held like dew in nets of celestial string.
as the sunlight comes peering through these
the intensity in a pinprick, unearthly passion within.
lancing the sky too are spears of my dreaming
as neon cobras strike and churn to flee.
these heaven-borne beings carving visual song
Cutting luminescent pathways into my memory.
The soundless iron giant is now still as a caryatid.
Holding me before that blacksmith showered light.
an artist plucks flaming dewdrops from the wind
illuminating my foray into this night.
I sensed a small piece of gene pierce his yang
a black taint to his overall brightness.
In my black yin a spark from him i hang
and I'm proud of the infections we posses.
As he narrates this landscape, he narrates himself.
a new side to a shape I felt I knew.
As far into feelings as his masculine paradigm delved
like a square’s seventh face, always hidden from view.
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 6:37 PM UTC
I am adrift,
adrift in a sea of self-loathing.
You went away,
I'll push you farther than you ever could run,
forget the feelings.
**** it.
What's it matter anyways?
Betrayal binds me to goodbye.
I will not waiver!
I will forever regret.
I am the architect of my own demise.
I choose sorrow.
I choose inaction.
Until it's too late,
using time to rationalize my reality.
The thread of our Love erodes with each passing day,
wish i had the courage to ask you to stay.
The place of silent serenity I once had alone,
Is pierced by feelings I've carelessly thrown.
So, an optimistic impostor I will portray
As I spring forth into lifes foray.
Never to show the truth of my soul
Will I ever be strong enough?
I hope so.
May 23, 2011
May 23, 2011 at 11:13 PM UTC
Often the news gives me the blues
I really ought to choose
to simply refuse
I mean really, what will I lose
Schadenfreude?
no that isn't it
truth is stranger than fiction
more like a fascination with the surreal
or a blinded self-affliction with the scroungy real deal
Talking heads that speak for work
punctuate sentences with erratic head jerks
nobody normal talks that way, they ask rhetorical questions
when the answer's are known, they’re killing time
“rephrase the question, run the clock out
a commercial will spare us the embarrassment of doubt.”
Take’s a special person to face each new day
with zillions of prying eyes hanging on every word you say
the mendicant voyeurs of utter destruction’s charming new day
the slashing machete melt down of the abject speakers foray
"Oh say, can you see by the dawns early light"
What's become of your people and their obsession with fright
desensitization is paramount to achieve an abeyance of light
Frankenfoods, and "side affects" hideous monsters in the making
high resolution mayhem require victims for the taking
awaking half-dead like Dracula’s each dusk
they'll find a cure, there's another vaccine, there’s always dumb luck
maybe you won't be the sucker that makes that dreadful scene
bludgeon your mind with a another faker, a different fresh news team
fobbing your leery eyes you ponder “they can’t possibly all be the same!”
different day, different month, different year, same game
May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 1:03 PM UTC
he sat with fingers interlaced
pondering on just, what to say
lucky they, it was their day
to briefly miss, this grand foray
he held back, since broken May
now had come his, chance to play
with eyes so striking, deep and gray
and fingers gnarled, from decay
he the actor, this his play,
plotting as they, walked away
blood unmoving, through his veins
but smiling deeper, so they say
it was dark out, in a way
footfalls fell he, found the way
mangled hair so, in the way
he kept drudging, found a way
they were closer, he in shade
shadows deeper, gripping day
leaves blew by, one fell away
no-one noticed, or didn't say
this was now the, time to play
fear so taking, words away
in that moment, shades of gray
as he knew not, what to say
smiling deeply, his voice did say
now that your it, count away
you are lucky, so they say
effort given, so hooray
I'll go hide now,you can play
count fast, just as you may
but you'll not find me,
I'll be gone away
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
The debate is on
I want to perform
but first I must
humidify my guitar
Ate dinner
now there's a lump in my throat
so I'm gonna sit here
drinking tea 'till I feel
paradoxically soothed and energized
hamburger and homefries
the summer dish
perfect for outside
but here I sit in my A/C winterland
conditioning myself for hats and gloves
The water's warming and rising
the mosquito larvae have won
Itching in Yellow Fever delirium
These grassy hollows
were once a worthwhile place
The new wonders are now
grotesque animistic anomalies
Today, face-to-face with rabid rabbits
Tomorrow, the white light angels
with hyper beam cleansing
they could no longer bear to watch
from porcelain obelisks
the human media screen
of indoor inexploration
fail to hide the sins
from the scale holding counters
Justice, the lucky one
with bandanna over eyes
still heard the profit wrenching semantics
get drowned out from screaming harpies
Responsible gods stopped their foray
in fear humans will survive
Dark matter engulfs all
in fear humans will survive
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
you squeezed it from its little packet
onto your glazed doughnut
mindlessly committing culinary blasphemy
without a sound
others did not notice
until they saw the yellow remnants
on your red wax lips
they said nothing
for their rapt attention was on the boss
who chattered on about grand ideas
while you guiltlessly chewed and swallowed
I missed nothing
for your bold foray
into comestible “paradigm shifts”
was of far more interest to me
than the inflated business at hand
like sweet custard on a Frito pie
your mustard caught my eye
and had me pondering
the elusive mysteries
of mind and mouth
while others gazed at our leader’s clean moving lips
untroubled by their enchantment
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 4:18 PM UTC
First impression, first date.
You come late, a major sin in your own lexicon,
tango dancing redesigns your hair to curls atwitter,
despite remedial ministrations in taxi,
you text apologies profuse en route,
but you have been outed, and
I am charmingly amused
A warm December eve,
a local Italian eatery,
table by the window,
red wine floes melt your defenses,
allowances made, you're intrigued,
enjoying our dinner of
charming amusements
But really you like my understated swagger.
I like that you like my understated swagger.
Walk home armed, arm in arm,
your paintings I must come see,
Immediately (!),
You offered this as desert, instead of biscotti,
a tour of your new apartment, sleek/simple,
messaging that this is me,
if you ever want to be invited to stay
Inspection over, my smile is a knowing
that this first foray deserves a concessionary accolade,
So in a mode so gallant at the front door,
Adieu you are bid, and devilishly clever,
I merely shake you hand,
leaving you delighted by this gallant, modern,
charming amusement
Looking at my watch, three and half hours
have passed.
Maintaing that in your ways set,
Early on, I challenge your rigidity,
Turning your hair from curly,
Into spun straight Rapunzel gold liquidity,
By asking politely, humbly, on bended knee,
You give in happily,
Charmed, amused at my ferocious insistence
Looking at my watch,
I too, am delighted, charmed, amused, to discover,
It seems my watch is running slow,
For it is now three and a half years later
Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
Dear World,
I apologize
if this seems like a cheap attempt
at romanticizing
something that is
already dead.
but i must at least
try and put down
my feelings of joy and love
before they are all too quickly drowned
in the sea of bitterness
pain and hate.
I must first write
about how gentle
his kisses were
how strong and tender
his touch was,
how much love i saw
when i looked in his eyes.
(before i turn and call him,
devils spawn,
son of a gun
worthless good for nothing.)
I should mention
his words of love
his meaningful
promises
and how i needed
to believe him
(before i say out loud
how deceitful he was,
lying pond-scum.)
I'll try to tell you,
how it felt to be
loved by him
and to love him back
how strong we were
how we both let this go
(before i dump the weight of guilt at his door,
and sum it all with its his fault)
i will say now and here,
how much I love him
still
and how much i miss him
and wish him well
and want him back.
(then for sure i will walk out tall
and proclaim my disenchantment
and wish a plague of a thousand years on him,
and tell the world i do not love him
and never will)
so world again forgive me,
for this confusion
that i add
to your foray of days
but i must.
Jul 20, 2012
Jul 20, 2012 at 8:54 AM UTC
Powder of ashes like snowfall in winter
The air and army withered in a splinter
Smoky-grey flaky leaves dead and forgotten
Each cobblestone tinted and tainted
Things of dishearten
I stand in the middle of a big large road
With ashen embers resting on my lashes
My coat and tote limp from the bashes
People lay, some far away and some grey,
The death spell cast on all the bay
I feel a tug in my heart,
Shocked at the sight
Cursed fates for a deadly plight
I stand alone, guilty for having survived
No goodbyes or funerals to leave me teary-eyed
The carpet of carcasses in front of me lay
Left me with loud realization of a lonesome foray
I wished I were blamed for their unjustified departure
Or for my survival inexplicable in any form of literature
The sky now looks a faded rotten orange
With the embers settled like a thick mat on the ground
Suddenly the sound of tip tap made me jump
From my lost thoughts.
My coat and tote comes back to life
I feel a tug and around my calf a hug
The most innocent eyes looked up at me
And said, “Mommy, I want to go home please…”
Jan 22, 2010
Jan 22, 2010 at 6:43 PM UTC
And the cicadas’ noise became music to her ears
Throbbing, slowly vibrating
to her feeble pulse
Like some musical nymphs
invading her quietude
A sudden foray into her tangled thoughts
A hearty diversion to her stubborn gloom
Aug 9, 2020
Aug 9, 2020 at 8:04 AM UTC