just paisley….

my darling, and ever so talented friend sue from tumblewords posted something called courage haiku this past monday,,, and immediately as i read it,, these words formed…..

strutting down the street
like shark bait, she trolls for tricks
…each,, some mother’s son…..

photo courtesy of someone that calls themselves, pafun on a forum site called ugly brittian

Yourself by ~pixshatterer on deviantART

sometimes,
it scares me to think
that something they say
came into existence
to protect me-
has spent it’s whole life-
trying to devouring me…

scarier still,,
is that i continue to allow it..

exhausted,,
i sink. heavy-
i bury my face
in its warmth.
breathe in
its ever familiar scent.
succumb-
to the gentle reverberations
of its voice,,
as it resonates
from somewhere deep
inside my own soul,,
“ssshhhhh,,  its ok,,
stay here with me..
you’ll be safe here..
you know i would never leave you…..”

Dream by ~G-i-n on deviantART

its like
one of those dreams,,
where you are naked
at work or
school or
on the bus,,
and no one seems to notice..
but you..
anxiety
mixed with nothingness
the kind of feeling
you can’t pinpoint
but cannot deny either..
like a knot
in the pit of your stomach,,
that no one can see..
“act normal”
you say to yourself…
but then you realise,,
you have no idea
what normal is..

crepuscular rays with reflection courtesy of wiki commons

crepuscular spires of
stilletoed sunlight
slash the barren corpse
of the bay.
winter willows weep,
as aurora
adorned in
her decadent
noose of nebula,,
exhales….

since uncle sam was mentioned in my post on …why paisley??? today,, i was thinking it might be a good time to pull this one out of the archives…….

*******

if uncle ben was here he would tell ya, why its as clear as the white on the rice. we uncles have always been there for ya… and for that we have all paid the price….

uncle remos, had an in with the children, with his stories and lessons and such, but that brer rabbit got one over on him,,, and after that we didn’t think of him much…

now y’all know uncle tom took a whippin’, and like it or not,, its no lie, that we made him the scape goat for many,, admit it now,,, even you,, even i….

so what about them men from u.n.c.l.e.?? they had a good thing for awhile.. till real truth got stranger than fiction.. and they took their bow and left with a smile….

as a boy i had uncles a plenty,, there was jim, john, bill, and old dave… but it turns out my dad had no brothers, and neither did mama,,, god save….

i heard tell of an uncle called kraker, i’m a guessin’ that he’s all the rage,,  i hear he lives high on the hog- double wide style… don’t know if that’s his pant size or - age…

And then there’s my very own favorite, t’was the sitter from hell, you’ll agree. uncle buck was his name,, and tho he came in a loser,, he come out,, way ahead of the game…

now i know your all just a wonderin’,, why i’m talking all this to you today, and just who i am and just why i’m a sayin, i’d like you to see things my way….

well it seems that i am your uncle… not your mama’s brother, nor dad’s, seems i have fallen quite out of favor-  by the way side,, with a bunch of them fads….

i started out as Americas darling, you were proud to wear that red, white, and blue,, and prouder even to offer yer own sons and daughters… when i pointed and said “I Want You!!”

but my time in the limelight has faded, there is shame and guilt to be worn, i am no longer in your favor it seems, and that sure has left me forlorn..

there was a time when i glittered like diamonds,,, spreading pride and hope all around,, but now with the current administration, a friend of mine is quite hard to be found….

the mothers they call me a killer, the fathers they call me a dope, the children,, well,, they never knew me when,, so to all of them,, i am just an old man… just a joke…

in closing i just wanna tell ya, that i’m not so old i cant see, that bush hasn’t just made a fool of himself, but an old gray haired jackass outta me….

since i am going thru a ‘not at all poetic’ stage,, i thought i would drag this one over from …why paisley??? it’s one of my personal favorites….

Big Blue eyes by ~lilly83 on deviantART

t’was “her eyes of porcelain and of blue”*,, that ensnared me from the start. like daggers edge they cut me thru- thrust passions blood,, into my once cold, dead, heart..

they seared past years of frozen flesh, piercing sinew,, shattering bone.. carved out a place inside my soul, eternally etched,, internally sketched,, my will,, now hers,, alone..

to be granted admittance to breathe the air,, as she exhaled it into the night,, i sacrificed my every need,, went against,, no damned,, all that i knew to be right…

tho’ filled with child like innocence,, those same eyes,, too soon contrived,, to stealthily dissect from me,, the one thing,, the only thing,, that caused me to be alive…

soothingly they sucked me in,, entangled me,, entwined… lost in greed full, lusting, flesh, till now,, known only in the darkest recesses, of my merely mortal mind..

she arched and curled around me now,, sliding her lips of scarlet silk,, over lips,, past chin,, down curve of throat,, soon suckling life’s heady,, crimson milk…

as she drained from me life’s sweetest succor,, i felt it anything but cruel,, my bequest to her,, my own life’s blood,, to revive,, her cursed immortal renewal…

Senescence by ~Renegadellf on deviantART

devoid the phosphorescent glow
yet emanating the same acidic stench
the effulgent glistening of youth
sputtered softly and then expired

like a sparkler lit
with kindle last
on a rainy forth of july

sanctioned shattered chimera
vanquished joyful verse
forever muted memory
silently surrendered

senescence…..

***

Senescence refers to the biological processes of a living organism approaching an advanced age..

with the halloween season swift approaching,, i was thinking this might be a nice verse to share…..

Dance of Death by Michael Wolgemut

rattle me bones and shiver me timbers
it’s a dead man’s jamboree
from dusk till dawn
around the graves
a dancing they will be

the eerie sound of woodwinds howl
the drums are banged with bones
and out there in the mist somewhere
just out of sight-
another dead man moans

with but one night, the whole year thru
this gay thread to weave
they dance the jig,, and tip the jug
in gleeful toast to moon above-
salute,,, all hallows eve…..

this is my first (and to date only) attempt at form of poetry called a sestina……. it was originally published 12/4/07 on    …why paisley??? however, given the fact that we are, as a nation, being forced to really look at the extent of our own racism every time we approach the subject of the coming presidential election,, now might be a good time to revisit this poem…..

Fuerzas Irresistibles by: Brian Dube …. on his website: NY Daily Photo.

Irresistible Forces

was there ever really a time,, when this beloved melting pot,,
was not a raging inferno of racial supremacy? a boiling cauldron
from which the very perfume of her heady divine steam
was not weighed down with the ashen effigy of cursed fog??
when republic, democracy, and indivisible were the irresistible forces
on which we stood together,, strong and proud,, without irrevocable fear??

or is it more accurate to say,, that it is precisely that irrevocable fear
that has been keeping the fires lit below this melting pot??
becoming consumed by self, thus incinerating our own irresistible forces
foaming like molten dross,, just below the lip of this boiling cauldron
spewing forth-hateful epithets like bits of spittle through cursed fog?
adding the stench of fatted sacrificial calves to the sweet perfume of divine steam

steam which should be rising. steam that should be enveloping us. divine steam
that would forever cleanse us one and all of the demon of irrevocable fear
release us from the social darkness that has entranced us like so much cursed fog.
obscuring our vision,, pelting our senses,, polluting our beloved melting pot
inciting fires of cultural difference, racial segregation, fueling the boiling cauldron
until all good has been boiled out,, and the residual salt of the irresistible forces

can no longer be reconstituted. until the soot of these irresistible forces
has become so ingrained,, so inbred,, that not even the heady divine steam
can extricate it,, can separate it from the deep pores of the ever boiling cauldron
sitting atop the hate fueled fires that burn brilliantly, stoked by irrevocable fear
evaporating any real dream of ever being able to salvage this melting pot
much like the light of a single candle is forever lost in a sea of cursed fog

who among us will be the first to slice through the blinding cursed fog?
to harness the power,, the spirit,, the truth of the irresistible forces
to inculcate in the minds and hearts of those who make up this great melting pot?
to share with the populace the sweet smell of perfumed divine steam
as it sears through the very soul of that which causes our crippling irrevocable fear
and at last, returns to molten metal that fear, full to overflowing boiling cauldron

or will we as a nation continue to wallow in the blackness of this boiling cauldron?
gagging and choking as we attempt to breath in the ash laden cursed fog
filled to overflowing with the ghosts that have succumbed to hates irrevocable fear
denying in whispered tones so much as the existence of the irresistible forces
that might bring us all together like so much perfume,, amidst the heady divine steam.
the sweet smell of our combined souls melded together in this beloved melting pot

irrevocable fear can only be conquered,, if we unite all of our irresistible forces
cast off cultural supremacy, oh cursed fog, breathe our blended divine steam
liquidate once boiling cauldron,, forge one nation indivisible,, yours-mine-our-beloved melting pot……

originally posted 7-30-07 on …why paisley???

Hand with Bouquet by Pablo Picasso

we are a bouquet of contradictions,
held together by two hands..
we all need,, and want,, and feel,,
tho’ we hail from far away lands…

you are there,, and i am here,,
each of us, safe, in our own little shell…
basking in our own triumphs..
enduring our own personal hell..

yet, all the time that i’ve spent staring,,
into your world,, from mine,,
has made me feel whole again
i have found my own way to shine…

we are a bouquet of contradictions,,
yes, i know that it is true..
because it is so much better being me,,
now that i have found myself, in you..