Archive for March, 1991

Untitled poem #103 and 1/2

Posted: March 28, 1991 in Poetry
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the silence of a late night drive.
empty streets of wizened asphault.
my tadpole car rattles from lamp to lamp…

Sleeping in the Rain

Posted: March 5, 1991 in Poetry
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I’m waiting to hear the rain
On the roof, fallen from the stars
Listening for the moonlight sound
Of the ink of the mollusc night
Seeping down through the clouds
To wake me in my sleep.

Only as I’m falling to sleep
Can I imagine the plummeting rain
Supportive of the windswept clouds
Obscuring the world of hoary stars
And in the corners of the night
I cannot hear a sound.

I steal away without a sound
To the land I wander in my sleep,
Dead under the silent night,
Tucked in for tomorrow by the gentle rain,
Guarded by those winking stars
Beneath the halo of the clouds.

Floating buoyed through the clouds
Amidst the growl of thunder’s sound,
I gaze upon the veil of distant stars
Through eyes opened wide in magic sleep.
The tears of wonder fall as rain
To the gods of that wintry night.

In the vaulted halls of timeless night
I wander blindfolded by the clouds
Through my mind the pictures rain
Exploding violent in muted sound,
Rocking my ancient soul to sleep
With dreams of newborn stars.

I pray to those alien stars;
I close my eyes each coming night.
The unpredictable tide of sleep
Rolls thick as stormy ocean clouds.
I was illuminated by the awesome sound,
And woke to the wistful rain.

The stars are hidden behind the clouds.
The night has fallen with accustomed sound.
I sleep, waiting for the rain.


chant under your breath

Posted: March 4, 1991 in Poetry
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O evil we adore thee,
supplicate before thee.
lend us your power, your mighty tools
to split and splinter these mortal fools.
we cringe and cower,
we beg and yelp.
we grovel in obeisance
for your help.

Little Iago Me

Posted: March 4, 1991 in Poetry
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Ha ha ha I squint evil at the sun
Squirmy, chuckling little Iago me
Glass! It’s glass, stupid drops
You can’t get in I sit under you pompously
You see little creature thumbs his nose
You can’t touch this
Hammer, hammer on the skylight
Paugh! Your thunder growl is nothing
To me in my warm, dry cavern
Your flashbulbs only serve to photograph
My mocking sneer.
Hah, I scoff at your puny attempts
To batter down my battlements
And woe be to the drops that do
Drip inside; those we do torture
With the thermostat.
I fold my arms across my chest
And listen to the angry screams
Of the repelled invaders.

rat pack come around

Posted: March 3, 1991 in Poetry
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doan wan be rat pack by no demons.
doan wan no rat pack agin t’nite.
no seven bristly skin wet demons
to mek me sweat upin mah frite.

doan wan no creepy-crawly beasties
to clumb up an’ squat on mah ches’
fo da drool ta come lik dey wuz hungry
an’ fo dem ta steal mah midnite breff.

ah kin heah dem snufflin’ unner da bedside
dey’s laffin’ an’ stampin’ fo dey fun.
ah hopes da Lord heah mah prayer tonite
befo da hunnerd legg’d rat pack come.