Cold

In the cold room, in darkness they celebrate their fare
A menagerie of phantoms who whisper
And titter and howl and swear
Hoping, their host abandons his earth-bound chair

“Enter our realm!” they say with delight
The church bells suddenly ring – they sing, they sing!
They hearald the end and beginning
Of perfect twilight- the time between day and darkest night

The fire in the hearth has gone out, and the table is bare
The crib is empty and the children aren’t here
The flaming desert is served on a silver plate made from linen and tears
It grows and feasts upon the neverland's tears

Wolf & Fog

The lone wolf howls
as the mountain does in spring
that thief steals its crown


Surrounded by fog
That steam whispers sleep, sleep, sleep
The last oasis

Pale

The pale
The pale, pale tent
Buldges, billowing inside and out

Tickets never expire
Inside the haunted buldging and billowing
Billowing and buldging pale tent place

Just visiting, for just awhile
Going to leave
Real soon, real soon

Back again, and again
Inside the pale
Pale, pale place

It's billowing and buldging
With flaps whiping
In and out, in and out, in and out

Can't stay,
Back inside
back out

[Yes, I realize this isn't a conventional poem; these are my attempt at composing lyrics...]

Wagging Tail

Wagging tail

Back and forth

A hurricane upon a sail

Heading straight

Fast forward

Toward the falls - too late

Hunger inspires

The mad dog's open maw

That frees the moth that flees toward the sun's fire

Britney Spears, Hilton Poets Indeed

I discovered two masters of lyrical prose on Google today
Britney Spears and Paris Hilton - Two Naked Poets - that's hot you say?

Yes, it's true they're beautiful, but they don't write
Or even type, unless you count texting on their iphone, yes its trite

Their rhymes are made by their swirling,
chaotically gyrating lives which billions find so enduring

There they run, they try so hard to hide
But they fail, how strange -- aren't they lithe?

And then they squeal like a bear in a hive
Who's caught eating honey and then stung in the behind

The camera clicks, and clicks and clicks like a Zippo pyro whore
Stop the poets scream, but the camera pleads - just four more!

The sexy sycophants of fame - oh how they writhe
The life they chose, with glimmer and glitz, it's madness they confide

When the lights go down, and their dresses become rags,
Who will love the Google/Utube/People Magazine Goddesses when their poetically perfect breasts sag?

Curse

I don't know why
But this morning I realized I'm cursed - hear me sigh?

Rudolph's blight - his curse pained my sight
When it became evident under the bathroom light

By Rudoloph I don't mean the Roman who played THE sheik
the one who made the scantly clad princesses feel meek

My Rudoloph, and he's the one you absolutely must know
Is the fabled reindeer who pulls the fat man's sleigh through sky and snow

But my nose doesn't gleam
It's worthless, just red and no it can't be cleaned

How can this happen to a 36 year old man?
Damn it -- this curse can't stand

By next year this time it'll be fixed
Because Rudolph will meet my brand new .30-06

Even then, if it's not really better
Someone has to take the blame, I'm American, remember?
chimney, an ambush I will fix

Craw

Craw

It’s back there, deep in the craw
On that island, that damnable squawking insane macaw

Like a loose tooth and that very last drop of vermouth
It begs to be pulled and drunk and then it promises to soothe

That pang that clangs with every move
Like the stomping feet of Frakenstein’s boots

It’s ever so deep, too far to reach
With dagger or feather, it’s soul can’t be breached

The java bean makes it scream
But that potent moonshine makes it preen

One more drop, there, and so it flees
And just one more – it’s better, so it seems