Archive for the writing Category

Prelude to The Haymaker

Posted in Blog, Poetry, writing with tags , , , , , , on July 11, 2019 by dustus

Lightning flash shoves cloudhaiku
Swirling wind scythes foam, sea roars

Thunder booms kick start

 

Target of Crossfire

Posted in Poetry, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on June 27, 2019 by dustus

Hurricane like bombhaiku
Razed home we found, framed, & wired

In tent bullets rain

 

Dædalus

Posted in Blog, Poetry, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 19, 2019 by dustus

…I believe that prison tower confining your physical freedom stood stuccoed pale ivory and flaking; drab in comparison to having built a structurally sound edifice—to entrap others lost within its maddening labyrinth—predicated upon your slipping into irony’s goat-skinned moccasins…

Thus made to walk the remaining measured steps of life not unlike your meandering victim’s did in their ensnared shoes…

However; you dream a way out—a series of epiphanies all knowing well the potential catastrophes ensuing possible design flaws…

Having reasoned obsessively; then learning to soar through selfsame determination—

As simple as water flow,
Rivulets turning back upon themselves
Beginning to end one; or nature’s inspiration
Out of the very flight of birds
Perhaps traversing over a security moat
& drawbridge

Such wanton ingenuity ultimately kills your beloved young son who wanted to be like his father; dead at the hands of his old man’s invention.

A few shed feathers floating upon the seas’s surface tension marking the crash site.

Later in life, you attempt to murder your brightest protégé: out of envy for being second woven wicker fiddle chair—that pent rage of being out shined from inferior self-concept (it was all too much indeed).

So, how did you live with yourself?  Your namesake and legacy revered, many times over, most notably in James Joyce’s masterpiece (he suffered beholden & led by your bullshit). Moreover lost in multifaceted holographic air and light, chimeras of meaning and language cast into words through time fashioned hooks, lines, and baited yet reeling back nyet.

                                                                    But when my mother died. Not only did I kneel (non-believing at the time), I soon thereafter heaved that burden of erudite garbage out that pigeon grey smashed window of reality—which held me mentally captive in a tower not unlike the two of you;

a golden red-faced American finch perched upon that ledge the second it reopened, and while secured yet unmoved, my mind finally freed itself.

 

While I’m Still Alive

Posted in Poetry, writing with tags , , , , , , , on June 17, 2019 by dustus

Please bury me beneath a Palmetto tree
No need to mark the site
Perhaps scatter my ash off a tall stilted pier
On a clear quiet starry filled night

I wouldn’t mind if you toss my remains
In a city stamped white plastic bag
It doesn’t matter; leave me curbed
Alongside recyclables of bottles & cans

(Just like good ole Neighbor Dan
Who died of ragging alcoholism 
[as per his quest]
God I miss his dark humor⁠—
Being trash-bagged once dead was his morbid idea)

Any way, I don’t care
Knowing my spirit lives
So who needs some cushy, pricey, satin-lined box
Or grandiose mausoleum outhouse digs?

(Dignity often precludes the worst imaginable)

So let us then take a poll:
All you departed ladies & gents⁠—
Please raise your hands…
Hmm…  just as I figured; not a single response
So like them, I too am unconcerned

I’d much rather you exhume my book
Or maybe undo cancellation of this ‘site⁠—
Either way… All the best
Which is a given while I’m still alive 

 

Sacrificing a Sacred Cow

Posted in Poetry, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , on June 15, 2019 by dustus

Trough licked clean
Lathed scythe poised glinting
Bovine lulls
Ruminates…
Not knowing its blood shall let
Their cloudless sky rain

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Shadorma is a 6 line poem (sestet) of Spanish descent with no set rhyme scheme. The shadorma is a syllabic poem with the following structure: 3/5/3/3/7/5