Emberace

I have experienced 

so many 

“last moments” 

of my life, 

when I knew 

I was about to die, 

and each one 

was different. 

How many 

more seconds will I waste 

staring at the chasm 

instead of embracing 

the fire 

of all that my life is.

Sailing on the Gulf of Yap!

Golden green-dayglow
upchuck, brittle as it is stale
left flailing next to lovely English countrysides
filled with jazz and memories.

Offal awful tutencommonplaces
forage around Sam Spade encomiums.

Yellowed word salad frobishers
apoplectic as the man behind the curtain
pair with pithy, parlor trick peons to laughter.

What Is It?

The fuse is lit 

but made of water 

it rises, a mist 

and starts it's slaughter... 

...fearing hate, eschewing love 

it's hell is in the Heaven's above 

But still it breeds 

a silent slither 

calls young, weak minds 

come, come hither. 

The media calls it a pagan queen 

but it is less historic, and more obscene. 

Answer: ISIS 

Kiss This Poem Goodbye

Kiss these words farewell
as I throw them on the fence
my troll escaped his cell
to rob my every presence.

What I shall write herein
will quickly be erased
because of his thin skin
my work must be effaced.

So it goes ever onward
Posts-Reports-Appeals
Till trolls turn to kind words
Or Yahell's freeze congeals.

These words will not grow wings
But removal prove their stings.

The Empty Mirror

I am not writing poetry

the moondog doesn't howl 

why call it a new moon

if it can't be seen?

The sun has gone, 

I have nothing to reflect 

the talent has moved on 

leaving pedants 

whining old ladies and pedos.

Reflected light has cycles 

and shines in new and hidden ways 

not every night can be a harvest 

but hope of it ignites our days.

Can we diddle around with poetry while the Ukraine burns?

Standard Bearers

Inspired by Chuck (I wanted to fix it in other words)
The bear has unleashed her claws;
do you face her down
or blink,
or pause?
Can you weave your way to neutrality
or will you face the storm
throw back fury for fury?

Do you toot on the trumpet or answer it?
Are your martial words a prelude
or sh!t?
Can you stand behind one more Neville Chamberlain
or stand at the bulwark
with your resolve plain?

Yahoo Now Hates Poetry

Ghost-Post Town 

Settlers gone

fields fallow

the grass overgrown

roads are narrowed.

Sign is rusty 

population one 

the corn tastes nasty 

wanna get me some 

and throw it idiots who say

marketing plans like thus:

"Run the rail through Yahoo A,

it will help this place so much"