"jestures" poems
This twisted spine collapsed down on the world with vengence.
Its crooked maw could not decipher the slithering tongues of monolithic men.
I tore away at my flesh until she returned, beaded eyes white hot with fiendish intentions.
Sparatic jestures have been no strangers here, at this abode we endure, witnessing the violence.
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 9:31 PM UTC
I'm waiting for
that blissfull moment
when,
I am freed, from the torment
of the world of wars, laments
of safety, health, protects , prevents!
of the waking world, of
groans and moans and sighs
From the ever
silent smirking
from
todays plan, no more working
simulated twerking
bad news briefers perkin
A respit from, "The Land of
Lovely Lies"
Oh, the smiling
nodding jestures
from
the too-cute empty nesters
the, once we were protesters
the, Winsor Knot and vest-ers
makes me look away No! contact for sad eyes.
With lead lids
steady drooping
my
pace has slowed, now stooping
alone: no more grouping
no chicken, rooster cooping.
It's time to sleep, so, I'll say todays goodbys.
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
i'm thirsting for jacquards and fine stemmed glassware
arias and plain flat violet skies that seem to curve to the clouds
firmness that releases soft edged conversations relinquished doubts
and stubborn stroked outlines of earlier times... peaches in kraft bags
ripened to the sweetness that "ahhs" the tongue and smiles that
linger and trickle down to bebop rhythms and Sarah's songs
tricky stuff said and done with twisting turning resolute
convictions and strained certainties that spoke to truth and
utter passions that seemed to spiral like so many dervishes in tophat
wonderment... look at the fallen trees and lost warriors that happened past histories... ultimate choices when futile jestures seemed
like the oligarch's pronouncements... merriment comes to tamper with
memories and sadness falls into chutes flowing to wide streams
where friends wade knee high over soft slipping stones all placed and counted matched like Orion's special quarter of the universe... stay quietly among the ferns and frogs and pace yourself to the changing monotony or feast upon the first light tickling your eyes tomorrow morning.
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:30 PM UTC