POEM: POEMENTS FOR YOUR PERUSAL OR A "SHORT, SHARP SHOCK"

click me!

I Saw an Open Window

I saw an open window.

I saw a sky so blue.

I saw there in the distance

The line the bomber drew.

I heard the earth still breathing.

And then I heard it sigh.

I heard its heart stop beating

Beneath the azure sky.

Clouds

He had his hand on the ripcord.

After all this time it was still there.

Like fire on ice.

She thought that

perhaps it was the weather,

or a change of seasons,

or some waywardness of soul.

Perhaps it was her. She didn’t know.

In the end there was just a cloud,

small and puffy,

drifting away from all the other clouds

in the breeze.

Finally!

(A Poetic Moment)

Thesingleword—

purrr-fect!

Fall Meditation #1

Wet leaves

on wood—

fragile,

as the planks creak.

Eternal Critics

The dream announced the world.

The world pronounced the vision.

Then the gods denounced the upstarts

with caterwauls of derision.

Fall Meditation #2

Leaves like flames

atop the shallow graves.

With so many,

what’s a poor world to do?

Silence

Crows.

One or two calls,

in passing.

click me!

Crime Scene

The smell of decomp,

The smell of kerosene,

Of burning books and burning hair,

Coffee and nicotine.

“There’s a body here, I know it!

We’ve got our work to do.

So break out the kit, dear Danno.

Bring me that footprint too.”

The smell of old law office,

Old books and older wood;

The smells of ink and leather,

 And all once understood.

“We will start our dig right over here

Instead of over there.

We'll not confuse the going up

With going down the stair!”

Chair seats shiny with thread-bare cloth,

Like an immigrant's new best clothes.

 The cemetery’s final office—

 The gift of a plucked rose.

“Those two holes. The blood’s been drained.

There’s not a drop that’s found!

I think we’ll find that our crime

was done on other ground.

So pack up your kit, dear Danno,

Some other place we'll seek.

It may take us both a lifetime,

Or just another week.”

Dear Hopeful

Regret came to visit

Despair who was at home.

Reluctance answered the door—

Bile was on her phone.

A Little Hopeless took his hat,

introducing him to Fear,

her beau and new acquaintance

(she’d broken up with Sneer).

Tea was served in the parlour

by Endless Without Omission,

an uncle from afar away,

who took Reject’s commission.

Dark Clouds then came racing in,

followed by Blind Luck.

The two were co-joined at the tale,

and positively stuck!

Inhibition clucked and frowned

at such a childish folly,

meanwhile cutting heart-shaped flowers

to make for Whimsy’s dolly.

And gathered round the tea tray

were guests and host and all,

in an awkward socializing

or else a suicide’s ball.

I DON'T KNOW ABOUT THIS BATCH. Oldies but goodies? I’ll let you decide. But you’ve got yer crime scene investigators and the poet having spiritual orgasms. There are critics, as always; there's always those types. Then there are the world-destroyers, the social misfits, and the good, the better and the best. I hacked these poements for you from the digital archives in one batch, like a big,  fat dumpling. I hope CSIS doesn't come after me! {Remember Snowden! Remember Assange!}
I like the haiku-like types that capture a single thought or moment— those times when you focus on something other than yourself: birds overhead, fallen leaves, loss, silence. Sometimes I just like how the words sound together. Sometimes I want to say something very specific. Sometimes these poems just write themselves. They do! (So I can have plausible deniability.) I find rhythm and rhyme are a great help. Free verse is Freedom-Plus! but it sometimes feels a bit much, especially when the words seems to trail off in the distance, and I don’t know where to stop or when, or whether to continue on. But, no matter. 
I like detective stories and mysteries, so I couldn’t resist putting in “Crime Scene”. We live our lives often puzzled and confused. Clarity is welcome whenever we run across it, and though it’s necessary, on occasion, to uncover a body or two to help with our understanding of things, one with a pulse is always preferable...

Cheers.