A Bang-Bang, That’s My Man
A big bad bang
Shot at close range
A bloody mess
An awful shame
A big bad bang
Another round
A bloody blow
I’m on the ground
A big bad bang
His stranger ways
A bloody shot
The third today
A big bad bang
Like sound-surround
A bloody sin
This gun he found
A big bad bang
He will not change
A bloody grin
Through massive rage
A big bad BANG
My stranger days
A bloody end
Through red hot haze
And She Walks without Talking
And she walks without talking;
Her lips bent in a curl
As she crosses the street
In her fake vintage fur.
And she models a felt cap:
Pearl-white ribbons and lace.
She sports buttons and seashells,
Each one holding its place.
And she’s lost in a daydream
While she sings out of tune;
Her eyes peeled so not to miss
The clown selling balloons.
And she’s spotted him standing
In his weather-worn suit,
With his orange faded haircut,
And elongated boots.
And she greets him with smiles,
A short curtsy, a wink,
Then hands him three quarters
For a parrot in pink.
And she watches attentive,
As he folds and he twists,
And then when it’s complete
He attaches her wrist.
And she thanks him with pleasure,
So he waves “Come again.”
And she walks without talking
As she turns ‘round the bend.
Good Day Check List
Good luck
She gave you strength
—And then some
Big trip
It goes without saying
—Useless
Ugly, bad
Thoughts that stick
—Avoid this
Abandoned
Curious rays revealing a chance,
Filling the sky, and through the trees – dance.
Thickly, with twigs and leaves, it is covered,
To dawn’s early creatures who’ve yet to discover.
Speckled and dull, and painted with earth;
Some layers of shell disguising a birth.
Awaiting a moment that’s soon to unfold;
A breath of fresh air; a world to behold.
Cranberries and Blissfulness
Cranberries and Blissfulness
Pouting baby butter lips
‘Round the corner Edward trips
With tattered knees to bare
Bless the button, sew the stitch
Clean your ears behind the itch
Find a chair to reach the switch
An inch or two to spare
Flakes
Frozen figures found fixated;
Focusing forward, feeling flustered.
Fellow followers frequently freeze.
Furiously falling frosted flowers force forth.
Frustrated, failing forecasts fade.
“Fine fiasco!” finds fitting.
Ode to Autumn
Ode to Autumn’s cold embrace,
Held against a twisted flame.
Loosely blowing wisps of lace
Impossible to tame.
Your masterpiece, in hastened pace,
Is laden with admired fame;
Disguising true, untainted grace
Of nakedness to shame.
Coves of Battered Rock
With eyes, should perish
Empty thoughts upon the shore,
Fore death doth blindfold.
Hardcopy
So keep your distance from denial
We’ll bury it in sand
Keep your face in all its grace
Not buried in your hands
Do not linger on regret
You’re blacking out the truth
Do so love me with forget
To keep you in your youth
Forgive me; forgive yourself
You’ll feel it’s good to choose
Forgive it just a little
It helps distinguish you
Yesterday I saw you smile
I keep it with me now
So let me know when you’re not well
I’ll bring it back somehow
S A M P L E P O E T R Y
"The Reception" @ iuniverse.com