Category Archives: poetry

two fingers

my granddad lost two fingers in the wara clean shot from a Messerschmitt

 

there was a yearly parade

to honour the sacrifice

 

he and his army friends

would put on old hats and medals,

march,

get drunk,

and when everyone had left 

they would go and look for granddad’s fingers along the parade route

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

life

lawn mower

rake

snow blower

 

lawn mower

rake

snow blower

 

lawn mower

rake

snow blower

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

New York September 17, 2017

what service

does the weapon provide

still sheathed

denied by the warrior

the prospect to waste?

 

a fulfillment of a dream

to dip the blade beneath the skin

a recoil

proceeded by full engagement

 

thrust in to the hilt!

 

to quench

the anguished

lust

 

hoorah!

 

1 Comment

Filed under poetry

the sixth ring

my eyes too weak to spread some bullshit words
across a screen
so I am left unaccounted for
on Facebook
YouTube,
or Instagram

strangers with foreign accents
on the landline
which somehow now only
connects me to people trying to sell me shit
I don’t even pick the phone up anymore
it always stops at the sixth ring

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

Replace the Wolves

In the occupation of childhood
nightmares bear fruit
in a fear of unknown weapons
wrapped with skin
adorned with teeth

the civilization in which these weapons were wrought
a “grown up” world
beautifully textured
outrageously detailed
just shy of mythological
replace the wolves of fables

a child wanderer
not ready for battle
with the harsh elements
of the nature of beasts
is separated

apocalypse

Leave a comment

Filed under Outlaw poetry, poetry

my baby

my baby

in white satin

swaddled still cold

 

abandoned heart

sleeping vacant eyes

 

once we were full

 

my baby

a gift

like her mother

 

oh, Lord why did you take them away?

 

spring approaches

life returns

but not all is reborn

 

my Love,

oh my love

you have left me!

 

maybe I shouldn’t have thrown you down the well.

 

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry

When I Left Her

Hidden
like that prick of a dog was in Argentina,
or was it Bolivia?

in a glorious mind screw memory
sits a piece of warm cherry pie
and a coffee as dark as she was.

a whole week by bus separates us.

one day I simply vanished.

Leave a comment

Filed under poetry