Digest - I
Collected Poems
Jester’s Gambit
Scorn my name if you will,
Spit upon me your sour swill,
And render grievance fair and bold,
If angered rage the heartbeat holds.
Spare the rod at your shame,
Lashings accrue your rising fame,
To bolster promise with empty slough,
And paid in full to far and few.
Lash you back, this I will,
Blistering stripes of bloodless spill,
With spike of tongue and drub of word,
And howling curses hurled absurd.
Give you lies, cross my heart,
Little white lies with blackened parts,
Slip gangrenous whispers to the ear,
Till lies you love and truth you fear.
When in doubt give the lie,
Kingly command or peasant’s sigh,
A heavy hand will never whip
The Fool of fools of foolish tricks.Let Dead Hands Die WWII “I walk the corridor of twisted flesh, And sneer, You people were never here, Let them never lie at rest.” See the terror in conceited arms, Which grab Pen and paper to quickly add Up the bodies like carnal bards. And let the dead wear neon graves, Around Their necks, mumbling, moaning preening sounds, An electric albatross on blood-dimmed waves. Like dolls on strings in master’s hand, Play them, Each man his death, a marionette, Strung up in graves on puppet strands. “Remember well their sacrifice, Or die, May our worship not subside, For I am their icon, their hand is mine.”
The Exsanguinated Rose
The rose’s thorn
Sharply adorns
The twisting turns of the flower’s shrub;
At times my heart has grown forlorn,
So I prick my fingers to watch the blood
Ornament the petals
And sprinkle the buds,
With drips of my vessels,
Red upon red,
Until all has been said,
That I, when grown bereft
Have sanguine blooms to bleed in my stead.
Let the scent of the rose
Be fast to the nose,
And when its red does not remain,
Let the rose remember,
This red, red stain.
In the day of the pale, bone-white rose,
When the pure and the dead have grown to the same,
When nature forsakes its flowery members,
May the red of the blood still show.Clowning
Welcome to clown world, hope you like
The fairgrounds full of grease paint freaks,
Better run home before the night,
Or get stomped flat by big red feet.
When life is like a thousand pies
Straight to the face, it really sucks,
So drop your drawers and drop some dimes
To step right up and shoot the ducks.
When clowns are out, you play the games,
And laugh it up with gasping mimes;
After the fun you ain't the same,
Your bell gets rung, you’re out of time.
You bought a ticket but couldn’t pay,
Now painted faces won’t wipe away.21st Century Faustian Man
A man once wanted to be genius,
So he called up the devil for convenience,
The demon said son,
This won’t be fun,
And the devil tore off his penis.