Caveman Theatre

Scapish hollows
prying, waiting, and
elementary math
the devil’s calling.

See Entire Poem HERE

First Published by: Squawk Back!
Publication Date: Oct 3, 2017

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Yester

 

Sun seated low,
a fading light dulling to dinge
When suddenly,
sparks and dynamic hues erupt
and cross our vistas gazing
This makes one think,
but for a moment, mind you,
that there is more to life becoming

And then, in drifts a weary frost,
settling down between gnarled joints
propped askew for balance
All that heat and life,
once baked into each and every ebb
and furrow, released when vision mattes

I can’t see too clearly now
but. . . .

Doesn’t this seem familiar?
Haven’t we danced this path before?
I seem to recall. . . .
No, no maybe not

But what about that firefly arcing
there?
And that brilliant snap of red nestled deep
into a carved hollow of evening dew
here?

No. . . .
I guess you are right

It is only a reflection
of an old man’s northerly departure
from this landscape inhabited by repercussions,
stamped with regret and a yearning
for just one more cycle
of season

 

First Published by: Scarlet Leaf Review
Publication Date – August 2017 Print Issue
Issue # – No, 3

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Flood

 

The miles pass by
in the pouring rain

click – click – click – click

To roads unknown,
roads not known

In this hazy realm, I can almost
hear your whispered petition to

Come here
Come by
Come be

But you’re not there when I
arrive, for you’ve left for
other roads without me

I’m left stand in front of an
empty house, wondering if
I should follow,
standstill,
move on

So it’s back to the road
and the pouring rain

click – click – click – click

Pouring in,
flooding the car,
flooding my heart,
flooding. . . .

Where the fuck
is Noah
when you need him?

 

First Published by: Scarlet Leaf Review
Publication Date – August 2017 Print Issue
Issue # – No, 3

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Vast

Beneath the boundless firmament,
the measureless leagues
of the grassius inland sea
ponder

Which way is up?
Which way yon?
Tumble and wreck, and
you can’t distinguish
where the pririe ends
and distance begins

Through the forests
of bluestem and switch,
sedge, isolation and
illimitable golds,
you will find the kames
left jumbled and forlorn
where glaciers swept
rock between pannes

A tinder strike
agitates the red buffalo,
but the race to devour life
is expected.
Hidden motives bound
from the inferno
as it devours tender stems
that wait with longing
for god’s tears

Everything is reborn
that dies again

 

First Published by: Scarlet Leaf Review
Publication Date – July 2017 Print Issue
Issue # – No 2, Vol 1

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Human Patterns

The sound vibrating through the medium of my dust
pulsing, binding to my conscious shell
of a vitality, leaking

I can’t grasp hold of these fleeting notes
I can’t hold them close
to love or hate

They slip through my fingers like silk over rock
too fast to pin down
too fluid, they won’t hesitate

My thoughts skip away over input gone imperfect
my moods, reflected in the silver
lining of the glass of my ego, stranded

And yet I see, so I am blind
to the tidings received

But I wait for the cue
just to feel. . .just to wring
every last squeeze of a gasping pitch

Still, it always passes over me
through me, escaping me
ever, always, always. . .gone

As I watch it flow
in an ever expanding pattern
ever farther, ever out

Past my bleeding shell
into the pool,
into an autonomous species shallow
with shadows sharp to cut

 

First Published by: Poetry Repair
Publication Date – 08/13/17
Issue # – 240 v17.c08
Link to my Poem

 

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Bethink

Eyes gone to the expanse
vaguely focused on the mirror before me
The window aft, reflected in
an external view turned inward to
open traces of the past

Curtains billow
obscuring, then clouding
But for moments, a clarity

The curtain shifts. . . .
Then there, there is a memory

– – A wistful child
bewildered, alone
uncomprehending
no one to succor
no one to hold
 
– – Breeze blowing
leaves softly swaying, whispered
through an orchard full of hope
Lolling in the shaded grass
dreaming a tomorrow
 
– – A smile, a laugh
pure joy unadulterated
freedom
abandon,
Oh, feel the abandon
 
– – A loss, so finite
so vast, eternal
as to make you want to follow
in its wake
 
– – Connections, friends and loves
enter, then leave the vista
always leaving. . . .
always, away and turning
 
The longing to go back
leaving the now, to former reminders
so strong and deep, misplaced
But for one step, desired. . .and taken
. . .as the curtain caresses my back

 

First Published by: Poetry Repair
Publication Date – 08/13/17
Issue # – 240 v17.c08
Link to my Poem

 

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No ticket needed to travel between moments

My hand reached out to
present my ticket to the
conductor standing right
across from me, not four feet
away from my bag.

Yet before our flesh could
press he is across the
horizon, rings of dross
surrounding us both,
the moon hung in stereo
against an unfamiliar
sky. Which galaxy
is this, with black
entireties and alien
consultations? I am lost.

I reach out my hand again
and my body is tossed across
a surface pocked by craters,
those violent contacts
made by mad comets and debris.
Yet it is still not far enough.

How can I reach this
stranger, an unfamiliar
silhouette beckoning?
And should I even try?
Is he the cause of all this,
my mislead through place?

It seems I must attempt
this journey if I am
ever to reach my destination.
Try and hopefully succeed
before I drift off to that
distant red dwarf over
the curve of my sight.

But without gravity
to assist me I may be
visiting other oddities
on my way, an involuntary
tourist unable to ask
for directions from my guide
on this the universal
jaunt through spectacle.

 

First Published by: Aphelion
Publication Date – August 7, 2017
Issue # – 220, Volume 21
Link to my Poem

 

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