"tined" poems
Alien among aliens,
Fanning delicate fins to promenade
A prim coquette and starchy cavalier
Trimmed and tined in ossein finery,
Sipping shrimp cocktails, dancing demure
Circles before blushing coral courts,
Holding hinds in groves of turtle grass
Until the paisley bodies
Bump bellies, and she imbues his pocket
With inklings marooned in dreaming Pegasus.
Aug 15, 2010
Aug 15, 2010 at 11:10 AM UTC
a hammerhead percussion box:
an inert crystalline cymbalist’s gong.
a confession of tined tuning forks
of perhaps a familiar keyboard?
the siren sphere rings of a chime—
brittle yet consciously polite,
composed by nature’s ragged pen:
plinking injections; stymied to tin.
! let it all reduce the klang to mere cacaophony !
a descent of bells, i am in plume,
a riddle delivered in aged runes—
evenheaded shots of ******
cut by the lotto wanderlust:
fractal prism, stormy rhythm,
thunder’s din to rainy hymn.
up those tulip-eared scales, so brisk,
the glugs and gurgles of cosmopolis.
! let it all reduce the tolling to glorious symphony !
a vagabond melody, no metronome,
a metallurgist’s claustrophobe,
an orchestral performance at home,
where i am absolved in the entrancing drone...
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 12:26 AM UTC
Faced back before the field space overrun
of runway's end, rusted spikes of flower'd
dock, the field left empty there. World's
airport flatlined beyond and down the sky
ride planes on turbined mist. The stack's
descent, each air-braked glide to tarmac
draws another on and down the day
I slip off into, drive away
along the curve of it. Before
Haslemere, where a tight hedged bend turns up
to the town, is a roe deer, struck dead against
a van. The driver, in descent,
appalled before the long, spread body
of this two year buck, its twin-tined head
laid to ground, a trickle of blood at the mouth.
It fell to this elegant pose
athwart the van's front width,
white neck flopped from the withers;
Crash landed in a sudden grace of death.
Jun 19, 2011
Jun 19, 2011 at 8:03 AM UTC