Extra Terrestrial or Amphibious
the inauguration
a flattened tail
swimming, lateral undulation
twins syncronized
vegetarian dish, a prescription
mate with dark gonads
a burning to inquire
no fear of fire, but to rebut
ancient terrestrials
gradually growing limbs abut
seeing flaming planets
retrocede, the parasite, residue ajut
these wiggling slims
then, gradually growing limbs
absorbing a tail, appendage nil
the noodles transformed?
ah!, the telltale external gills
apoptosis, death, of sorts
a metamorphose tail
shifting life in anxious prevail
commence in breathing air
smaller intestines, transmutism,
choosing carnivorism...
Thank you for the visual presentation of Becky Hulit
DBP 4-25-14
The Legend of Foghorn and Puffin
woven...white
textiled feathers
big green hair
golden throat of heather
a treasure within
threads of wisdom, foregone
hidden within
as dim wittedness beak-ons
two-heads
shining behind
from the glaring sun
royally crested
sharing tail-feathers so spun...
Puffinish and crafty
subordinate, one
devoted to it's twin
a military artist
flying into the light
to avoid hunters of dread
"There comes a time,
the possum said,
when if all else fails
just play dead"
to Trudgalong...
challenged by attachment
everlasting love
or resentment
damage in the attic...
"That's a joke, ah say, that's a joke, son."
overbearingness creates static
self-amused but foolish
Camptown Races...tone erratic
"DOO-Dah! DOO-Dah!"
as his boxers fall....cinematic...ly
impatience...hissy
fit. "Aaaaaahhhhh, shuuutupp!!"
no chance for Miss Prissy
an Amphisbaen conundrum
of axial bifurcation
Thank you for the visual presentation of Becky Hulit
DBP 4-26-14
Rain and Fences
Coming rain,
water, and a fence
barriers hence
people run
fences confine
lands beyond
seem further
kids climb
shallow or deep
pools of glass
reflection, laughter
thoughts seep
no death, ideally
infinity
but not really
water should last, intrinsically
but it might not
but kids will
in our hearts
no fence.
Thank you Marco Pucci for your visual creation
DBP 4-26-14
DBP 4-26-14
PHLOGISTANS
sultry
and resplendent
the gift of conflagration
to receive with bewitchment
and then celebration
to be lit within...
an arrow points
to the "It" girl
bowing, as the arrow swirls
to ignite...platinum combustion
of the sugar kane...
a confectionary itch
of torrid rain
the kindling catches
over red dust, as the bombshells
blaze a pyre
Carnal stirrings...
the live wire, smitten
that soft-shoes and burns
the sound of a whipping kitten
the streaking flame
of the Black Venus
forever extremous
later the suttee
of the luminous spitfire
a Mexican desire
the fire-trap,
an ever spinning ferris
of misery, a waif's home
broils with the cries
of Satchel Mouth
telling of the skies
of mosaic habitat patches
from Storyville to Paris
as the pounding
and chorus strums
of Chick's drums
and the tiskets
of the Queen's basket
points and aspires,
to a Brazilian wildfire,
of fruity hats
rising higher
charcoalified cotton
from a voice, that
the Duke decries
Ivie's glow...unforgotten
as Blossoming,
a virtue orion
the arson in love
a minivering siren
and a raging Pre-Raphaelite
incandescent Magdalene
a penitent sheen
the miracle of Saint Peter Martyr
Vivarini vivated
crucified, inverted
but still ablaze
a courageous raise
the Black-body radiation
fills the emission spectra
as my firestorms elate
hitting me me like a Molotov
a passionate resolve
and restoration
DBP 4-26-14
SUSTY STAIN
the wealth of wine
velvety richness
the texture of kisses
a lover's bouquet
golden Chardonnay
or Mourvedre red so gay
sprouting calmness
to celebration, gathering
a bottle of white so fine
bottle of red divine
the exposition of jive
rhythmic excitement
the impulsivity of improvisation
harmonious freedom
comradery and distinction
and brassy interlocution
segragating blues
a raggy time
and fusion of cool that derives
a syncopated unity to thrive
rich in composition
Dicken's delights
satirical reflection
lakes deep with dreams
portraits in language
erotic passions, in adage
the triumph over tragedy
by its cover
the ignition of inquisition
inside a truth revelation
vintage celluloid
elegance and dignity
a journey in time
slapstick fruits
devising humour
star-crossed amour
and the victory of courage
over wrath
romantic confusion employed
the barriers of euphoria buoyed
the infinite wine
swings with paragraphs
reeling with
faith, and a sign
of humanities vine
4-27-14
Afternoon Delight
a calming celestial afternoon gonebye
in the quaint dehiscence of a misty meadow
the dew has long-since waved goodbye
the sun announcing a rest from pageantry
A lone white flower
standing so strongly in swoon
it's defined and proud festoon
poised to dance to Okawari
rich and polite leaves
placing their hands in adoration
two kindred spirits
painted in the darkness of isolation
awareness of effloresce sibling
a simple white aven,
an ant-laden Drummond's Dryad
or the Wild Calla, spinning it's magical haven
the long and stemming tower
girdered with stipules of secretory canals
as the sun disc absorbes the evenings lambency
...the nocturnal slumber in destiny
the tranquility and enchantment
of the mystic haze
and the singing choral clusters
of halcyon days
a/
DBP 6-9-14
"No Impediment Within the Sediment"
What does it take to flourish?
to grow to only exist, or
to luxuriate to inspire and nourish
the sun rises every morning
and the rain does fall
the earth feeds
and is nurtured in mead
I could seed in any place
but I choose to take a path
that I have carved from no trace
through rock and in shadows
where the water comes and goes
like a rapid stream
where the winds might embark me
and the heat of the sedimentary beam
might spark me
my leaves may be few
my colours not vivid in throng
and my size miniscule
but my roots are strong
and determined in dual
and as each season passes
I wait for my chance as a purveyor,
to blossom and never foresake
sharing the Middle Jurassic layers
with tiger beetles and snakes
the wasps and the wildflowers
I choose no pasture
but the steep slopes
that delineate the valley
I reach with my pulpy fingers, and crawl
as I boast with humble courage
DBP 6-7-14
Friday's Lost Socks and Saturday's Needles
Interesting isn't it
one day lost socks
the next, needle and thread
Fridays and Saturdays interlocked
so hemmed inbred
presupposition
a sock has a toe-hole
but which one needs darning?
the lost stocking unconsoled
or the one hanging on the arm chair
looking sad and forelorn, so unfair
I don't mean to needle
but the hole is beckoning
as well as the minute one in the pin
threading it's way through perilous repairing
pricking fingers on it's way so daring
the mystery must be solved
for until I know
which sock to bestow
I will be impelled
to do the laundry
in a state of quandry
DBP 6-6-14
A Lost "Sock"
What is a lost sock?
a punch gone awry
or a unit of apparel
missing a mate to dock
I did engage in pugilism once
and amiss my delivery was
but such a wonderful jab it was, acrunch
never to be found again
but there is a piece of injured air
floating somewhere
wondering how to reply
whatever round it is to ply
no one knows
the crowd is gone
and as a matter of fact, now foregone
the anger has been annulled
so I remove my protective wear
and envelope love so bare
and proceed to a turnbuckle
to embrace my inspirations
I am matched to my calling
a knitted friend
the toe so darned
alluding to odor, appalling
through thick and thin
we are akin
DBP 6-6-14
ENCHIRIDION
such a signpost to long-rooted faith
by an ancient trellis of centuries’ stature
new life breathes into this endless portrait
as new artistry frames to blossom
It has it's roots to hold it
and life to live amongst it's challenges
even thorns sarcastically adorn
the frontyard espalier of faded wood
oh where is the ivy that it captured, that
eventually, creeping up the thin but sturdy slats
as the grille boasted with Monastic Wisdom
so sturdy, orderly, and timeless
to be reborn with wild plants
comforted by the sun in daylight time
growing into their beautiful serendipitous jewels
teased by the weeds that dare to climb
but cognicant of the humility, humanity and hospitality
telling the truth of our Earthiness
under-walked by women upon the coattails
as the patriarchal and religious legend avails
the humus and the rooted
and the touch of man
so grounded in tuition
Knowing who you are in fruition
and accepting one’s limitations as gifts
and not just as sad statues
of our finity
Ordinance No. 13,032
discovering a new world, ...of the past
a Storyville of caste
but breathing fascination
so long ago, allowing such vices
the village illuminated in red
sixteen blocks of recalcitrance
the rollicking train station, a thread
announcing the District and the Quarter
"Order of the Garter"
Honi Soit Qui Mal Y Pense
cheap fifty-cent "cribs" for the decrepit seducer
the unhidden dishonor
stone throw to the mansions of Basin Street
twenty-five cents guides you on beat
the anthem of the Blue Book
full disclosure, and racial division
The philanthropic Tom Anderson
and Lulu White's Saloon
the octoroon hall in bloom
forty girls in the hall of mirrors
stained glass and solid marble
five floors and fifteen rooms so suite
chandeliers, potted ferns and elegent tufted furniture
stomping on the mohogany
with steam heat
"But I can't get warm
without your hand to hold.
The radiators hissin still I need your kissin
to keep me from freezing each nite"*
a facade hiding the indignity
the black men barred
the show can't be the ticket...
and the jazz the bordellos picot
piano, maybe banjo, maybe the blues
small bands in the palaces
in saloons, brothels, dance clubs and cribs
improvising a mixture of roux
lyrical de-segregation
trapped in dementia praecox,
Buddy Bolden asylumed
the King dethroned from station
Jelly Roll Morton lies and brags
and Pops Foster's slapping bass
the shut down in '17
as the dens crawl to screen
"Thought I heard, Buddy Bolden say
The nasty and dirty, take it away
You're terrible and awful, take it away
I thought I heard him say"**
*Richard Adler and Jerry Ross. "Steam Heat" 1954
**Buddy Bolden. "Funky Butt" or "Buddy Bolden's Blues" 1905?
DBP 5-18-14
The Lion of Admission
The magnate
a small mining town
no diversions abound
no impending hope
college and insecurity
no love, no aspiration
counting and processing
step by step veracity
making decisions and imposing
savings and prospering
as the desolation is slowly dissipating
the unscrupulous are the summit
the snowy peaks of detachment
he is now in a manor
a high wrough iron barricade
spears to attack my curios investment
matching imaginary fenials
if the gate allowed me so congenial
to approach with a tangible inference
the shallow boxwood hedge
a wide stone walk of crushed white slate
my eyes aspire to the
proud flat tegula
as I pause to trepidate
I succumb to discernment
..."Fear is the highest fence."
lofty shuttered casements
and the stunning segmental Farajan arch
encasing the oaked castle door
expecting a refuter or
dog of device
but the story, not so vice
as my chronicle
tells a different truth
of accomodation and reparation
DBP 5-17-14
Sunday
The Extricated
Am I river kill?
...am I rooted
how have the tributaries
routed me
those hikers passing
look down upon me
and stories they tell
my life as a tree
proudly reigning over
a Muskoka grove
felled for firewood
then displaced for a portal
to mortal resource
will I ever dislode
or become a gradually
eroding pedestal
to become locked the ice
the visits per annum
maybe some savior
will savour me , a device
for their conservatory
a symbol of rusticity
and heroism!
DBP 5-18-14
SILENT STAR
the memories as I walk
from the boulevard at sunset
my playful friend
the legend in emerald frock...
our Connie-Mae Greene
she was a celluloid Queen
as I ascend, to what was once
the servants quarters
but behold...
she partook in them
for an attendant of gems
reticent and permitting
adulated by her obedients
so sweet and adored
congened in Baltimore
the same moment as Lady Day
a gloomy sunday
taken away
to a heartless home
that exhilerated a westward roam
anon a child icon
"Stairs to Babylon"
as I touch the mildewed stone
and feel the overhanging pepper trees
holding those rails that suspend
I am bemused by the mansardian facades
and bequeathed by a collage of colliding shadows
did my princess fall on descend?
or pushed by a drunken disciple
some say a seppuku
an almost demonic dress-rehearsal
no reason no rhyme?
alas, it was her time
the pictures of dissertation
bid her farewell
we live in her heavenly dreams
where we are closest it seems
to her infinite bewitchment
our bobbling little blossom
APPEEZE
I was standing up in my hammock
wishing it was elevated
to a position of potentate
but the trees were towering
as firs often do
so I searched for openings
but none were found
so I looked to the sky
but the sun was too bright
discouraged my plight
so I gathered three lawn chairs
and stacked them with flair
positioned but rickety
I climbed the slings
an improved view to behold
but I yearned for a few feet more
"Mother", I implored
favour please
"Gladly" she replied
"But, what?" (with no chide)
"Two thick books, please"
she brought them
thick they were, and like concrete
I leaned and grabbed them
and slid them under my feet
now this was cool!
I stood and scanned the entire day
at dinner I would descend
at least I contemplated such a way
when it was five PM
I prepared to dismantle
but then mother came hither
"Would you hold the Hibachi, please"
so without dither
I surrender to appease
DBP 5-12-14