"perishables" poems
White snowflakes fall.
Brown boots break the ground.
Porcelain perceptions
are lost and now
crimson puddles
seed the grounds.
This is what is found
when nationalistic
rhetoric
slowly crosses
from let’s make
this country great
to this is who
is to blame
and who to hate.
Till, that ill suited
nuclear rage
resets the atomic age
and glass jars
of peach preserves,
rhubarb,
and non-perishables
in dusty cellars
are the only things
left of us human beings.
Dec 22, 2016
Dec 22, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
Incorrigible hoarder of the useless and perishables
Fridge full of forgotten decay and unfinishing leftovers
A comforting illusion of plenty and unending riches
To which she nibble away, always leaving behind ten percent
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 12:42 AM UTC
Dad had dragons in his cigarette smoke,
and hummed to dog tags jingling like wind chimes.
Mom has excuses titled “college textbooks”,
and burned her problems over the kitchen sink.
The war ended, dragons went extinct
and the class of 03’ moved on.
Now I christen the silence with Ozzy era Sabbath,
and fill the empty beds with perishables
to rot with me in the teenage years.
You strangle me with your eyes,
and I sweep our past under the bed.
My heart wanders from room to room.
The prisoners of war jump out the windows,
falling like the day’s hundred follicles.
The parachute men die at the hands of their lovers,
with slurs as theirs last words.
I spend dim lit days waiting for the permanent
to change its mind to temporary.
I wait a year to exhale,
I wait two to heal,
and I wait many more for you.
All because I’m scared by the thought of things expiring,
but my greatest fear is to be alone with the rotting.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 8:27 PM UTC
there’s only one place
where you can walk on the stars
just be sure
to keep your face forward
so not to step on any corpses
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 12:48 PM UTC
Dark as night,
her eyes.
Where did the glow,
Go!?
Cold as ice,
her heart.
Where did the warmth,
Go!?
Pale as death,
her lips.
Where did the delicacy,
Go!?
Gone along with
Perishables treasures?
Instant pleasures?
Don't you worry,
imperishable!
Magestic as an angel
You heal! You heal!
Fresh as a rose,
her aura.
where did the pain,
go!?
free as thought,
her mind.
where did the worry,
go!?
Jan 2, 2022
Jan 2, 2022 at 3:16 AM UTC
Habits, are not the self
Customs, laws, nationalities
are not the self
Conventions, language, vision, taste
are not the self
The rolling Georgian hills, the Himalayas
The western Rockies, the eastern Smokeys
The northern forested Canadian home of the white bear
The White Cliffed Isle, the frozen Red Gulag
The cities clogged with motion, the empty vast stretches
the round, wet, green, globe circumferenced, the stars
are not the self
The perishables
are not the self
Aug 3, 2016
Aug 3, 2016 at 2:13 AM UTC
Sunlight's abrasive presence
provokes a heated isolation
stewed together in a
cauldron of perishables,
stoney partitions
metal dividers
bind, slay
serene slumbers
cued by the waning sol,
an aubade crooned
by Mr. Bluebird
shifts crystal puffs
harnessing Skinfaxi
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC
disconnect melded with malcontent
strewed through common intents
durable perishables
in spite of unmentionables
see if they care
to see if you care
if nothing else
at least you know the least
of the beast
in the shadow
of the teeth
the worst is seen
and never felt
and if it was
would you know it
when it happened?
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC
"The Song of Not Self"
Habits, are not the self
Customs, laws, nationalities
are not the self
Conventions, language, vision, taste
are not the self
The rolling Georgian hills, the Himalayas
The western Rockies, the eastern Smokeys
The northern forested Canadian home of the white bear
The White Cliffed Isle, the frozen Red Gulag
The cities clogged with motion, the empty vast stretches
the round, wet, green, globe circumferenced, the stars
are not the self
The perishables
are not the self
Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
Being slowly stripped
of obsessive compulsion,
unable to creature the habits of X--
its greater pains taken by
pains taken.
Volitional deductions, and
inferences...alibis and motives
scarring a madman's template.
Ram-shouldered entries
through paper thin doors, in response
to off color remarks on his meta-physique.
Isn't nature self-regulating, why shouldn't
it produce freaks of like control?
To assemble variables thereof, Warholian
assembly lines stockpiling non perishables
for unseen disasters.
To man, to woman the reins is a most
satisfying illusion...spurring on the tramping boisterousness.
We like formalities, dress rehearsals, the arteries
of maps...to run our fingers down,
nonplussed by their pulse.
We know that we don't know, today the weathermen
completely butchered the forecast, of this wouldbe
blizzard.
Time is already filtering their accountability.
Mar 14, 2017
Mar 14, 2017 at 12:46 PM UTC
Who was that?
Netanya asked
who was whom?
I said
that *****
who has just
dropped you off
in her car
she said
O her
she gave me
a lift home
from the store
what did you do
at the store
that she needs
to give you a lift
in her car?
she said
I work at the store
she said
can I give you
a life home?
O sure
what else
did you give her
to make her
so grateful?
she gave me a lift
because she was going
my way
I said
do you fancy her?
does she get
your pecker going?
Netanya said
in her tight voice
I walked to the fridge
and took out a beer
pulled the ring
on the lid
and took a sip
she's four months pregnant
I said
walking to the sitting room
and sitting down
yours I suppose
she said
she stood with her hands
on her hips
her eyes darkening
no of course not
I barely know her
she works
in Home ware
I bet you've
given her one
Netanya said
I looked
at her frizzy hair
dark but greying
you know I wouldn't
I said
how do I know
what you get up to
at the store?
she replied
I don't fancy any
of the dames
at the store
I lied
Netanya walked off
her backside swaying
like a ship
on stormy seas
thoughts of the young dame
on Perishables
buzzing like bees.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC