To He-Who-is-Not-to-be-Named, I willingly offer up George Bush, warmonger and rabid elephant, to be seized screaming by your awful beauty and stretched into the ever nighted planes of silent shadow.
Posts Tagged ‘Night’
the silence of a late night drive.
empty streets of wizened asphault.
my tadpole car rattles from lamp to lamp…
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.
[sestina]
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.
Oh, what can I do?
Ah, distracted again
as I leave quickly to the night
on my mind:
signs of you,
sleeping peacefully in dreams,
fears gone.
cheaper than anything,
even free
have and hold you forever
tears gone,
rarer than the blue magic moon
even you
grow thoughtful,
aching for someone you should have.
Untitled Poem #100
Posted: December 28, 1990 in PoetryTags: Cloud, Drum, Eye, Night, Rain, Sky, Tree, Untitled
I heard the liquid drums pounding
and the silver sky tore apart.
the moonbeams fell sharp and screaming
bending their rainfall to my face.
I smelled the coming heat
and the clouds were writhing soundless.
the wind chimes swung emptily,
wailing their grief into the night.
I saw the many trees dancing
and the glow from my eyes went silent.
the earth grew faint beneath my feet,
melting my flesh off in runnels.
I knew the serpents were stirring
and my old scars split with delight.
the hum of the land was loud on my skin
when walking with the Lords of the Wind.
Who can stand
Just lying awake at night
Waiting for sleep
To come dust your eyelids
With secret sand
Glittering and feather light
Weighted to keep
Them down without skids.
wandering the streets at night
is a joy I haven’t had
in a long time for a lack of it.
swimming from streetlight pool
to pool, feeling the cold
of the deep darkness between,
tiptoeing past crouched cars
and predator houses, slinking
down alleys feeling extremely wary,
yet conscious that I own all of them.
Serenity
Posted: June 20, 1987 in PoetryTags: Blanket, D'nofrio, Dream, Green, Light, Michelob, Mind, Night, Pen, Pride, Sand, Scream, Sea, Smile, Stream
As I sit here by a stream
I contemplate halfway in a dream
Of things and places and sunless seas
Of gigantic beanstalks and philosophies.
From the profound statements of the D’nofrio
To the mellow flavor of a Michelob,
From decisions made by our head of state
To these lines on which I contemplate.
Subconscious turmoil brings up fantastic stuff
Predominant phrases like “hey, life’s rough”.
Wearing a smile and a stupid stare
I look for ideas of which I can share.
These poems contained within my mind
Are many in number, and some unkind.
Yes I’m sorry to those I’ve offended
Let those faults be well amended.
But it’s true that they were meant to provoke;
Hey, I’m wandering again – this poem’s a joke.
I’m sitting amongst a bunch of rocks
By a small brook whose babbling talks.
With a little creativity it seems to say
Just be patient, let come what may.
So I watch and think and revel in nature
While my mind is really on nomenclature.
Twirling away, I write in prose
Where I am now, nobody knows.
Wait! Focus! I recognize this land;
Billowing waves joust with stoic sand.
The mind pans up like a movie shot
Alas, a Steven Spielberg I am not.
Sky fades to stars as day fades to night
And the horizon is bathed in incandescent light.
Speeding past planets in the universe
I find images of people who have been cursed.
Wailing and screaming, yet making no sound
I’m really glad that I am not sticking around.
Suddenly I’m alone in my bright green chair
With the ink of this pen it’s color it does share.
My feet on my stool, my notebook in my lap
Someone has written on the cover: CRAP.
Yet I still believe, and although I have paused
I take up my pen and I correct my flaws.
It takes ingenuity to live in this place.
Some go insane; they can’t handle what they face.
Just take a look at me for a terrible instance
Sometimes I can’t handle my very own existence.
I can be too foolish to swallow my pride
And I have even considered the aspect of suicide.
Many days in my life I would have missed
If it wasn’t for my stabilizing catalysts.
I owe it all to my security blanket
And now that I have kindly thanked it
One more thing I suppose I should write
Before I bid you all good night:
It’s fun to ramble on into infinity
When you are surrounded with such serenity.
Wandering through a town at night
When lanterns provide an eerie light
That is when the spectres come
And beat upon a silent drum
Overall it is an indescribable sight.
For clarity in the air I wist
I am answered by a fabric of mist
Through alleys I wend
That twist and bend
Looking behind, they do not exist.
Demon
Posted: March 17, 1987 in PoetryTags: Clouds, Dance, Demon, Fire, God, Monster, Mountains, Night, Satan, Soul, Sound, Universe
From a fiery plateau in the midst of hell
Where all the fabled monsters dwell
Came a sound which split the night
A noise issued to God in spite
On the mountaintop within the inferno
Dance a supreme demon by the name of Mephisto
Or Satan or Demogorgon or the Father of Lies
By whatever name, he is one to despise.
Atop the mountain he gleefully pranced
And it was a mocking dance that he danced.
Below him on the burning plain
Writhed tortured souls without identity or name
Up, up, up towards the heavens they swirled
Lashed onward by the demon way above our world.
Towards the Lord’s throne, up within the clouds
While the universe shook with dreadful sounds.
But the Lord was forgiving and blessed each soul
And tore from them, sin, which kept them so cold.
The more Satan called, the more were rescued
And Mephisto’s stupidity cannot more be eschewed.
For the Lord is supreme, he made me and you
And not to be forgotten, he made Satan, too.
Ode to a Saddened, Overwhelmed, Depressed, Lousy, Poor Old Guy in a Sleazy Bar
Posted: March 8, 1987 in PoetryTags: Alcohol, Blue, Cosby, Madonna, Night, Spirit, Van Gogh, Weird Al
A saddened man
Will boost his spirits
By having a can
Of Coors or Schlitz
He tries to thik
Of something else
Not armpit stink
Or prison cells
Not the fourth dimension
Nor Madonna’s navel
Not stress or tension
Or record labels
Not impending doom
Or space invaders
Not business boom
Nor prancing satyrs
Not greasy bacon
Or Motley Crue
Not movin’ and shakin’
Or a shade of blue
Not stuffed animals
Not the Cosby Show
Not new Weird Al
Not old Van Gogh
Not the E.R.A.
Not the Price is Right
Not yesterday
And not last night
So the saddened guy
Sets his glass down
Clears his mind
And has another round.
Nature’s Path
Posted: June 1, 1985 in PoetryTags: Cloud, Fire, Force, Grass, Lightning, Nature, Night, Storm, Tree, Wind
Nature’s Path
Of conflicting forces;
From first to last,
Eternal voices.
A group of trees,
The wind is coming.
A gentle breeze,
Inaudible longing.
The clouds are rising
Upon the wind,
Scarcely realizing
The danger within.
Within the glade
The wind is stirring.
The grassy blade,
Secrets burying.
Pressure building;
Night grows near.
Lightning flashes
Its threatening leer.
A fiery streak
From the sky;
A burning tree
Is the reply.
The storm is passing;
The damage is seen.
Burnt trunk lasting,
Disrupting the scene.
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