Archive for poem

Princess Bling

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , on June 14, 2019 by dustus

Princess Bling craves fancy things
But not as much as diamond rings
Her platinum bands do luster pale
From rocks that awe like quarter-sized hail!

Princess Bling loves lots of ice
Give her some, she’ll treat ya nice
With hair flair streaks
—blonde high-lit stripes

Faint glitter-dust
‘Round winsome eyes

Rose sleeve tattoos prove she’s quite tough
And workouts keep the hot bod buff
Though if someone asks what she thinks of
(Beyond selfie ‘grams & who she fucks)
A deadpan gaze and challenged mind
Can’t conjure lines nor sound refined

She’ll protest and claim
You’re too hard on her
Just jealous
To not get some part of her…

Thus, herein lies
Her crux and fate
Not everyone’s dumb
Nor taken by fakes

 

Bar Stool Pigeons

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , on May 29, 2019 by dustus

Bar Stool Pigeons do not fly
They only get the runs
They’ll pace and squawk
Peck morning meal
Take cover from the sun

Bar Stool Pigeons flock together
Fight over biscuit crumbs
You seldom see one out alone
If so, that one is done

Their heads swivel ’round; bob up & down
Some turn on their sisters & brothers
Because once Bar Stool Pigeons lose their will
They spend life cursing the flight of others

They’ll look toward the sky (with envious eyes)
Then dismiss what they see as insane
Humans can’t understand what they say
And attribute this fact to bird brains

 

Muted Sirens

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , on May 24, 2019 by dustus

Ulysses stuffed both ears with wax
Stood up with body tied to mast
Muted Sirens floating past
Homeward to Penelope

To face a lot of drunken suitors
That bunch of pillaging fucked up losers
Who knew not what he had endured
While she remained his life’s reward

Through bloody war
Held captive plight
His missing piece each lonely night
Kept him determined to reach his goal:
A joyous reunion of two lost loving souls

 

Artistic Freedom’s Waive

Posted in Poetry, Short Poems with tags , , , , , on March 1, 2019 by dustus

They shall claim self-defense a joke
Having drawn-up silencing guns
In taking acquisitional aim
Subject to defamation lies for protection
Behind the rub of tarnished legal cloaks
Nondisclosing their collective loud mouth
Whose soul remains forever sold
Alongside artistic freedom’s waive

The One That Got Away

Posted in One Shoot, One Stop Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on July 16, 2011 by dustus

I loved her, honest
Warm shoulder, face, soft eyes
Mostly imagined, as well as initial
Surprise pet names
Rats make for a stupid hat
Dancing spastic to Sinatra’s pack…
If like-attracts-like
Then I am insane

Benighted cotton balls, human
Upon magellin’ hair
Sniffling through catacombs—
Their ancestors spared
Licking skull eye sockets
Smelling condensed blood
Without squeaky pre-flights
No airline cruising bag of nuts
Nor fearing yawlps from elephants
Over cobalt blue tears
Coloring Ulysses butterfly
I’ll never tell—Pinky & Brain swear
Because one never really knows why
Some cast a wicked spell
Knowing it’s not healthy: staring into glare
Though rodents tickle smile growth
Your left side looks so dark and scared

Like unto her, recognized one
Took held breath from my yesterdays
Making me finally cut; the bleeding runs
Strolling edit, weekends come
Always wanting, aching fade
Craving thrills, smelling grave
Fair nuanced shake
I’ll squeeze that sponge
Drink lips, fears, spiked pain
As tales trail sensing time frames
Independent journey pines for nothing
Now, except sapling splinters— 
A privilege being a writer
Fucking sue me; one-shoot-me
Looking past this, future smiles
While mental illness crying fire
Patrons trample burning aisles
Saying cheese, final friend
When love is all I want and need
Until we meet again—

From Skinner’s lair to inside trees
Panopticons and lakeside springs 
Postcard composure
Photographs, dreams
Through notes, held keys
Wind-song through reeds while
The one who kept me up at night
Feeling nothing except history
That part of me… faux enemy

Died today
Remembering with a sigh
Will never be the same

Goodbye, One Stop

___________________________________________________
Care for a reading of The One That Got Away?

*spectacular photography by Rosie Hardy

Chris G… wish you a fantastic new beginning, my friend.  Learned a great deal from you, and have high expectations for your future accomplishments. All the best for a great start in CO! Don’t be a stranger.

Final Words of Thanks….
I really don’t know what to say, and I’ve thought about it obsessively, go figure…. Guess it’s kind of hitting me all at once now. To sum up the journey, I’ve learned more about writing and poetry from real writers—dedicated, intrepid blogging souls— who bring their best efforts forth just about every week, even when they don’t link up, or opt to send poetic tweets. Through One Shot Wednesday and Form Mondays (each day really) I feel like I received a poetic education—gleaming gems of knowledge and inspiration prompting me to experiment with varied styles, take notes, make conscious decisions through my work. Those lessons prove invaluable; and Sundays, well, I never expected it to turn out so great. Big credit to Chris, and to everyone who posted and shared their thoughts with us. I’m grateful for your heartwarming kindness and encouragement.

Cheers.

Peace.
dustus