Poems

Poems From Somewhere

Out of the gaslight

Of ended existence

Emerges a rhythm of

Courts and kings.

Hamlet gesticulates

Madly, more madly

Ignoring Ophelia

Who's dying alone.

The dragon arose from the dregs of time

And laughed like a pink-lipped rose.

There once was a fellow

Who felt that his poems

Were terribly bad and abysmal.

When he was good he

Was better than Shakespeare.

And when he was bad he was dismal.

State Of The Art

Yankees who can barely manage

Any tongue or language,

Archaic, new or civilized

Are thinking up their own.

From Oregon to Maine the monkeys

Rush to imitate it.

And tattoos made the cover of

Expensive magazines.

Christians plan to rule the world.

And blacks are lower class.

And gays whom blacks despise remain

The lowest class of all.

7-20-13

 

To Be Published

I left a silver trail

Of madness, love and rhyme

Behind me like a snail

Leaves a streak of slime.

Now I'm on the crest

Looking off the brink.

I've written all my best.
My frigate will not sink.

I must get in print.

That's the purpose of the game,

Earn a wholesome mint

And equal Junkets' fame.

7-19-13