Friday, December 20, 2024

Angel, poem by Dr. Melanie May Bloodgood 1976

  

Angel,  

(poem by Dr. Melanie May Bloodgood 

1976) 





Especially she was starred:

above her pink points of her breasts

a mark fearfully bright

was confirmed by the elders of the tribe

after having been thoroughly tested.

She counted on them to clarify

all those who sent caskets of flowers,

but the elders (biblically lecherous)

dilly dallied the score.

With still lifes of candy dusty in dishes

she fortified her door

until no one could phone.

Too far forced, the number was lost

in a box of lacy underthings

and soon they allowed the glass

in her house more strange than ever.

Assured she stood still

all the white cars

long in the drive turned around.

An angel, the ladies over thin red tea

agreed, crossing their ankles at the knee,

smothing the fine print of their dresses.

A nesting bird greyly shook itself out

and commenced again its regular breathing.

 


 


1976

Stillwater, Ok 


Thursday, December 12, 2024

Story poems for d'arty kids (2015)

  

*

out of music, fire once born sprung soft furred creature looking like the protector

of the land, catlike only greater and more stealthy than bear by far, covered in

thought-mists golden to find present. as it were no phoenix but rather a unique

and hypothetical phenomenon, it bore great glory in how it assumed the first paragraph

and longest sentences uttered by man. unrelatedly, unleashed on future tangled now;

*     *

                                                                                    There was a stinky little skink

went rambling thru the alley and over a hedge

into the living room of some giraffes

who bent their necks, again, again, again

to inquire? may i? help you?

there were cashews in bronze boot mugs

"have some snacks" offered the giraffes

"climb on in we do" harrumphed  the unbathed skink

eating his way to the bottom of the boot.

luckily, there was a rocketship

waiting for him there

it would take him anywhere and It did

*   *   *

rabbit rode out on a train to meet the mallard delgates

there by the Of Course Lake

near a colosseum made of mallard wishbones

and wattle and daub assorted-styrofoam boat seats

they were convening to party like mockstar

quite frankly, and share grog of peat juice

their favorite colloboration

selling well in liverpool and quebec too

when along came fox in his auto mobile

wearing a scrappy smirk and a bib

"hey fellahs need a lift"

"quack off and bite my long ears"  they told Fox

he puttered off over a cliff with no impact

and rabbit and mallard entered the great colosseum

filled with giant carrot sculptures and lilly pad sofas

it was a rollicking good party

they wagered and indian leg wrestled sealed handshakes in spit and hugged,

it was a partnership of groggy prominence

and unstoppable sales potential. at the end

rabbit hopped off home under the grounds of a thousand trees

and mallard took wing with hundreds of others

to galaxies of water and nibble fish and even muskrat

                                                              is nice on thursdays

*   *   * 

tiny leopards do enormous leaps off an endless tree

they land so softly the ground signs a check

to mother nature, gravity makes marble dust freeze in time

                                                                    tiny leopards do that.

*   *   *

mice do their business down by the baseboard

under the sink and lick the dripwater and

do harvest dances wearing the regalia of their ancestors

and hold sunday school with free lunches and boxes of bellyjeans

mice form unions mice go sing bawdy songs mice

                                                             mice mice mice

*   *   *

terminator the worm gnawed a hole

thru the gas can and went to bed over a painted lovely sponge

there was moonlight thru the rustholes

he could hear cricket playing fiddle down in the bog

he could see the shadow of egret

he could be more still than an unrustable love

he could hope to go visit the full moon of no fear

or grow some wings if he was that kind of worm

and not the intergalactic robot kind

sent here to run for office, very slowly, and only

by rolling there in an okie-gypsy can

*  *   *

recall ye the salty old sailor and his unspeakable prowess

on the seas of most of his life never barfing

only barking orders thru waves of sloshy ocean stuff

at men men men used to taking it

with a smile and splinter remedy of octopi tears

they were setting net for the

gold mermaids however politically wrong that may seem now

recall the salty old sailor was a classic jerk

with insatiable prowess of which the gold mermaid

reluctantly and nervously dealt with

by stealing his sardines

what they were good at was ship wreck howards, so

the salty sailor would sign them up

for the tycoons on land too busy with hunting or war or football

who would escort the mermaids in their own

submersibles of fortune hunting caricatures

the salty sailor wanted nothing to do with anything but the

sea, but ya gots to pay the piper he says and

the accordions go wild and stupid stunts land blows

they sleep like dogs in a pile of rocking boat water

mermaids prefer to swim alongside,

telling their romantic tales and warning of octopi fans

in the mall and around strange sturgeons

but the salty sailor he has told them the nightmare to boil ya in shivers

                                                                                 make yer eyelids go peely

                                                                  have ya a blister on the nose from

                                                   laughting up a tornado of slobber

                        while learning ya the betters

if ya'd only soak it in( thats a tough sell)                       but nature makes it.

*   *   *

they were tweenage minks, looking for trouble in rainbow land

they had a truck of hot candy at the ballgame

they sold it for a thousand gazillion double helix sand dollars

they bought mink coats for their friends

everyone was their friend

they all looked like

successful

minks, as you can imagine. slender, regal, and bathed in rainbows

they made music videos, they got old and wrinkled,

they became philosophers and said really odd things

but the rainbows had permanently colored their eyes

they were So Beautiful

that is why they became President.

*  *   *

"rollerskating derbies are always fun" she screamed

going faster than the spool of candy around her mind

boys boys boys tight fast lanes

curves around the rink i don't look stupid i'm a dork i'm just

a blur who sees me sees a going faster than

the silk of a coccoon

in the most instrumental transformation

where others become right in laying at your wings

that perfume the air with grace

like a flirt that goes well but vanishes into the night with friends

everyone was laughing that look

off the ground the skate wheels slowly rotates

there are pieces of crushed boy hearts all over them

it's cute as heck

*   *   *

baby one and baby two went on a voyage

it was reckless, it was bizarre, it had the best burgers that babies can buy

and it went to a valley

baby three, baby four, baby eight and baby forty nine all

had guitars and learning disabilities

it was so far away from everyone else, it didn't matter. they

rocked like bad baby guitarists and made no one

cry. then, at the motel, they trashed the pool.

they made international news go beserk and rich

ads sold their logos on baby apparel for gangstas

wah wah and a thousand decibels

of hammered baby claw notes

they made a mess. they were babies gone mild, spilled milk

reflected the getaway stroller bent from  tantrums and digestion.

*  *   *

old turtle craweld over the vocabulary of night

in a olde waye of knowledge

riding a hammerhead and brandishing a volleyball

there for the kingdom he would visit were he able.

old turtle made merry

he sang and whistled to the oak trees

he kissed the dew instead of blinking

had three daughters of perfect turtle heritage

glossy shelled and stubborn as granite pillows

well they had gone to a dance

without him, he knew they were sure to be

courted and so olde turtle hurried his step

and quit texting while he walked

over the dictionary of day in the veritable use

of wordjewels as bricks or fire or atomic sky glimmers

olde turtle never seemed to get there

the oaks were happy his voice was as old and soft as rain

the world knew he was forever atrudge

the moss under his ears had its own wikipedia page

his nails were worn down as the basins of waterfalls

his tongue could lick flames off his eyes

were he to walk thru the middle of volcanic activity

in the alphabet of creation olde turtle

were a mighty pawn and the mover of mindsets

his pattern made sense with a stare of ten zillion smiles

so deep the ocean calls him amigo

*   *   *

hippo child in his wallow crib made a lullabye

out of sheer algae inspired delirium

he wore a scarm which no had ever ever seen or heard of

it was made of sticks vines dental floss and marsh bits

he called it a scarm but it was a bad jewelry

hippo child had no fashion sense. his daddy was

a hobo hippo on the moon, sometimes visiting venus.

hippo boy had made a good living on his own

despite his adorable scarm (kind of like a scarf

dragging across the wallow zone like an invite for ridicule

the othe hippos had a field day his lullaby over came their old fat hippo hearts one day

 we can't know how it went they were underwater

it was during a rainstorm and they were

scared, too, so it helped.

*   *  *

the fuzziest thing ever to walk on five legs

did handstands for a living and had a gig at the rodeo

there were also feats of stupid strength

the fuzziest thing could win blue ribbons all day

it didn't matter he felt like a baldy

he was the fuzziest thing:                                             ever.

it was never enough, the hall of mirrors, the extra hats.

the walking on our hands to make our hair frizz and touch the earth

it seems to fly off into space

stolen by space snipper-bots, little twerplings

INVENt your own Hair, please. the fuzziest thing

jolted the crowd, using the character acting classes

he'd learned from videos in the library trashcan

*   *   *

sometime galactic space weasels go speed to the little novas

that want to be left alone, there under

swingsets of sweet night


give us space you flippy little space weasels with no manners

and ability to blend memory into carmel soup

i know there in the hammock of celestial bodies


we see forms

creating new forms

developing perfection as a work of time carries truth


in spite of ferret looking space weasles with rabies and bad breath

that solicit one for long business deals

under the toy train nostalgia for days devoid of dumdums


skipping merrily in tandem with nonsensical

visions, germinating, washing off,

running off into the love of animal  frivolity licking growling


huffing preening cleaning dining

animal brethren all the neighbors digging

scratching hunting raising young

*  *   *

the nest gets bigger every day as the bird shaped movie star

takes every twig from the tree until only a toothpick

holds up the daydream he has made

a definition of unsustainability look like a cakewalk rigged with cakes

the cakes go every direction one can imagine

it is a real mirage

the nest glows with frosting, the diva has a party of one

its huge. he goes to work, and escapes as the salty sailor

he puts the nest in storage in a cloud

he finds the boat over where the water starts

he gets in the boat named after his favorite storm and grinds up the starter

his anchor is encrusted with valentine candy and seals

don't want to let go----they're heavy enough to sink us!

he reekingly cries in overstatement deluxe.

the actual Poseidon intervenes,

arriving on a seahorse named dolly with flames of nostril exhaust.

the sea lions consider taking on the lord of the sea

and say nope by flipping away with candy powered flops

the salty sailer gives Poseidon a hug

as the god recoils from his lacquerd smell of Land

as the ship clears the harbor the salty sailor swells up like a pufferfish

connected to a pneumatic machine run by ocean power

the sea says hello to the sailor

another day making dolphin jokes and carving narwhale tropies

*   *   *

sleeping in a sweet pile of kittens

a kitten so small

it got buried and lost

the mama found it and took it aside

with little licks

it was all better

it mewed and had milk

life made it happy

it slept and got carried

it never opened its mew in anger

it left it in the bottom

of the pile under the sweet sisters

and brothers it stayed warm with in their relativistic

digression toward modernistic analogies

involving non kitten philosopy

and cute trite tactical purrs

a kitten so small

it found a lion's share

*   *  *

angelfish eating daffodil salads, how random.

they're everywhere these days, the salad palaces we call them.

around every fishbowl on every street in american random.

raccoons try to say hello to the angelfish

but of course, don't get eaten or mauled was the golden rule

under the big dark rock. more dressing for the salad!

the bitterness calls for angel-honey

next time, give the raccoon a chance

*   *   *

skunk and toad and sallymander went on a rollercoaster

made of a a leaf stitched to a pine needle

it didn't work they waited to frolick to no avail

but had a great philosophical discussion

on the best kind of weather: dry, or wet.

toad says i love windy weather when i'm around skunk

skunk says i love wet weather to keep toad from looking like a gross rock

sallymander says i love weather whether weather seems or knots

and made the rollercoaster real

it was called The Seasons in a dream before the machines took over

and grew the nature all down

*   *   *

at the bottom of the lake the rare whale

gave a concert concerning celestial laws and omens

following which a raffle for a pile of kelp

was meant to fundraise the sewer system feeding the lake.

dignitaries were bussed in by eel fleets

there was zapping all about and a bit of extra

haze to the water if you get the drift

the rare whale had to deal with it, what else?

go park in nebraska and do husking? with these set of pipes?

if the comets and asteroids and space junk

start to look like the ocean

i'm shopping for a cryochamber swears the diva whale

the omens are fair to partly spewey with spouting

he thinks he's a elephant with flippers

he thinks the lake is the sea

he knows sewers are supposed to go out not in.

with these pipes?

*  *   *

three dandelions woke up the sun with a soft song

three robins threaded a curtain around the puppet box full of silk

three bears on their hind legs find their tiptoes on the shelf

three plinks in a pond go wide and interlap

three beetles ride three ants in a first time ever miracle

three blades of grass next to the dandelions rub shoulders

we're all in it together, all ten

*   *   *

a rodeo of snails dipped in television magic

can easily get out of the box

of control and take over the universe of comical lunacy

they can hitch rides to the moon its a bigproblemlately

it is getting slimed and their spurs leave scuffs all over

they sure know how to ride that rodin thinker brow

they have the promise of moonworm

the buck stops bucking in free gravity heaven

enter: the dragon. it has a costume, and is

allergic to television magic.

the sneezing is tragic, and much debated

by shock jocks most everwhere.

*   *   *

sorry boys boys boys

acting cool, looking great, acting tough

breaking out, feeling hurt, getting lost,

boys boys boys

denim polyester sneakers

no coat, no lunch, no comb.

boys boys boys.

*   *   *

a flight of donkeys or a coven of lemurs will suffice, pig.

get the cranberry marmalade, an olde turtle book of proverbs,

four jars of dally dally, a flowervase of pure energy,

a trough of applesauce to bathe the donkeys

a pew of pillows to pummel mid late early morning

otters may get involved, even a spare vole.

they usually have commitments, but we'll see. if i can get a vole,

you have my solemn bray, as witnessed by

retired turtle volunteers with rotten knees.


*   *   *

under the wheelbarrow, a manger of kittens, a sleeping

pile of unopened eyes only days old

i put the barrow back down

and later saw mama come back

she move them as were her wont, refugees

under a woodpile, near as good as a barrow

or better if there be mice

the pile okitties start exploring, the world

is their wheelbarrow not their crib

it isn't olde turtle's heavy shell

it isn't any more a manger it hauls catnip and smitten rhymes

now they're all in managerial positions

i. like zeus, let them go.

go my cat babies, and be feral and charm the other fearing beasts

small enough for your pounce and play

*  *   *

polar bear had a dream of climbing the stars using igloos

already full of people so he stacked men and ice

interchangably in a blind frenzy, and even a few huskies

got thrown in, and one or two oil guys, and i heard even

some missionaries but that is not confirmed, polar bear

climbed up to our first star the moon

and had a bad case o hunger

he ate the dust and even the astronauts footprints

he used the flag to hunt non food items of rocks

polar bear bounced slow over the dream stuck

on a fake star with no food

he was crushed into polar bear jelly and the moon

gave a toast to mankind

*   *   *

princess clothes on sale for free and cosmetics bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

that make you feel good about earth and shoes from recycled nouns

princess gear get it here bags and galoshes and crystal earring chandeliers

princess rides in steel pumpkins along for the

pomp and procession an animal non princess gives her a kiss

and is transformed into a rose garden

princes are invited, that is the variation. otherwise,

flipped shell game the animal was a spelling bee

*   *   *

mountains with legs stand up at night and take a stroll

no one notices they're super asleep

saint helens meets hood by the columbia

they are super huge so they don't have far to go,

with that mature base and all. legs of diamond muscle

do the trick, you'd think footprints would be found

you'd want proof, would you not?

they got a load of snow with the wettest december in 70 years

they really have to want to go out, it is no easy task

especially unseen and leaving no tracks

wearing magic slippers over feet

pure carbon squooshed together in strands brilliant

moutains with legs& foothills that know

*   *   *

wren flitted about the window of the ogre

trying to get his notice, she had a special egg to lay in his ear

he awoke from a century wide nap as the wallpaper

sagged from the still shaking plaster walls

he went to the window and lifted the wren onto his foot long finger

she gives him a peck on the cheek and hops hops into his ear

with hairy vines strong enough for pelicans to roost

she doesn't go too deep into the ear and it isn't fear

she finds x marks the spot written in neon in the ogre's eardrum

she pops an egg out so fast one must say: wow

wren is flying out of a mist of wax and batwebs and newyears confetti

she makes it to the window with a thud

the window had been closed, ogre lifts her and with his all powered

breath revives wren, she gives him the peck

on his cheek he opens the inch thick glass, breathes her good tidings

the egg and the eardrum are one

*   *   *

chattering squirrel and loon loon made a massive fort

and brought their snacks in clamshell cases

to celebrate the solstice and have a real good time

the woods were still as others were all on a cruise ship

the woods were abandoned to only chattering squirrel and loon loon

as the rain began and the rivers swelled

they went higher into the tree, saying goodbye to the massive fort

it was neat to watch it drift off until the river made it

to less chattery squirrel's doorstep

Halt he Cried! and nature complied! loon loon did a double dance

went diving off the doorstep into the murk

he came back with the cruise ship! it was inside a sealed bottle,

and all the lilliputians came billowing out like ants

following no queen but their old star codes and pre-printed

directions.

*   *   *

your dolly has old clothes your dolly has a sweet face

your tongue is green can i have some candy

your messy room your good grade your slumber party your life

is such a beautiful gift your presence

your dolly is the best your existence hath improved all reality

born of our children your perfection makes all good

*   *   *

toy nails and hammers and kites,

real steel cars, balls to kick or throw

new bike new ribbon new mirror new stuffed friend

before mom and dad wake up

a fancy huge boot nailed to the fireplace

full of candy money candy figurines

the tree what my parents call gaudy all blinking in every color they make

with chains of silver and bells of gold

and globes of shiny strange reflections i see myself stretched

eating the last cookie wearing a snow moustace i am older than santa

toy this toy that, the time and the mantle and the moon fades with morn

*   *   *

billy goat had an idea, and went to visit the wizard to share it,

so the wizard took the idea and changed it into a mouse

with human legs and a perfect set of teeth which spoke english

better than the king. mousemanking found riding on the

goats head difficult , so he made a kite and rode it trailing the goat but above.

mouse could see far ahead, that was the perfect idea

and had senses you wouldn't believe unless you visit the wizard

and your great idea allows it like billy goat can.

*   *   *

chipmunks at a comedy club, with glazed eyes and a bowl of captain grunch

they have seen this scene before, last hibernation. down in philly.

back into their hotrods, the road is exploding behind them.

industry could care less, they're at the comedy club with the seals of approval.

chipmunks come across some chimpanzees at the waterhole.

they try to shake hands but end up getting tossed into the kitchen soup tureen.

it is luckily gazpacho and they emerge most refreshed.

they laugh it off, the chimps say sorry and buy them subscriptions to acorn digest

its all good, at least better than last time, up in newark.

*   *   *

learn how to type, aladdin's mom yelled as he ran off to ali babbas cave

but got waylaid by a dreaming lion on a dune

who playing a mandolin by an oasis seemed the most brisk form of enlightment

aladdin had ever seen. by the way, the lion asked, would you like

a typing lesson? before hearing any reply his tail did a swoosm

in the polished glowing sand and it was his: perfect fingerstyle stenograpic chops

at home his mom was dazzled and said this is your treasure

that opens the world, it is never the other way around . the type learns you,

the sand and swoosm are your dream. aladdin was pretty worldly, he knew a good

swipe of luck when it brushed his dusty self off.

*   *   *

whale told a short story in long song form, it were too beautiful.

the water was moved, rippled off into space

the whale was soon dry

he inhaled half back

and ocean returned, with bits of star crumbs all over the spinning wheels.

cute as moonbeams, but not as beautiful as creation once swam.

*   *   *

frog was eating a sandwich by the lumber mill

along came beaver and his family in a cart drawn by bart simpson

ruining frog's perfect( beatrix potter) dill pickle.

start over: frog jumped in the pond with his webby fingers

full of sandwitches, and up swam beaver ready to help hold them

on his paddle above the guaranteed water.

frog loved beaver and would trust him with his very own tadpoles

so of course he tossed his halfsogged sandwichz

onto beaver's tail. why'd you do it, frog?

wasn't paying attention. i saw ralph nader by the lumber mill

and got jinxed heebie jeebied and sphinxed.

*   *   *

a buffalo stood knee deep in the light from past the sun

it made buffalo strong and lasting

in a wind of men with fired eyes and women hungrye too much to last

the buffalo rode salmon upstream into mountains unbroken

thru tree hewn rugged earth swallowing shadows

where bears fear to forage the buffalo withstood embrace of man

until a girl so small wearing only a dress and boots

grabbed herself off the bank she washed up on

and climbed the shag of the buffalo to his hump and nestled there

as buffalo went over the mountain's glaciered stone terraces

when she awoke the buffalo was gone

overlooking a metroplex

an industrial center, three quick marts, and nine coffees in two hands

*   *   *

hello lark, hello robin

whatcha doing besides the nest

laying eggs on the inside

well when you're done want to hunt worms

sure the rain makes them juicy

if the mud doesn't ruin the flavor

i'll see you by the park bench

ok unless that dogs there

thanks for remembering that or that old man with the cane

oh him well make a good strong shell and get your rest

oh yesdearie and mind the drones its xmas

*   *   *

porcupine wears the free hugs cardboard sign down at the saturday market

he waits by the elephant ear booth all the cinnamon and sugar

keeping hands occupied as porcupine goes in for his free hug

until the ballon artist is pulled in on a tractor beam

to mr pincushion its just a skit. the public is fooled.

out of the porcupine suit comes three twins in amobea suits.

they are famously known and fooled the world again,

the clapping goes on for a few months. the three twins go hang with banksy.

the fooled public goes wild.

*   *   *

nine minnows had a school under the leafy banks of

an oklahoma creek and told math stories and learned history sports

drew hook lines sinker diagrams on tablets of mica

named the various outboard motors that chop and dice who generations

nine minnows so serene with rulers and rules

with knowledge and vice and staring out the window at clouds above

passing notes two minnows in minnow love

 no teacher no principal no bells ringing just a minnow jedi

making the banks leafy making the lines break and hooks melt

nine minnows using their minds, tiny items in moving

winter streams turgid and cold for nature's way

*   *   *

the salty sailor took a hurricane speed bath out on deck

lashed to the mast as usual by his crew for wanting to go over the

sea serpent straits without any escort from the office of lucky glides

he ran into odysseus who stranded on a lump of clay

out off the coast of maine was in sore need of a clam chowder

they took him in and gave him the galoshes of the times

 and explained calendar art and as Odysseus warmed he came to sense

and went diving back off ship, the salty sailor took it in stride

and consulted the nearest mermaids who explained odyessesus

longing to return home. the salty sailor made some mac and cheese

in his microwave as the hurricane pitterpattered/ his oh whateter boat/

i have lost many marlin/ in me day /says the salty sailor

and put si racha  on his dinner to later spew back at the sea serpents

the salty sailor thinks ahead, for his ship and his crew.

*   *   *

the babysitter had eight girls, three boys, two poodles, a spaniel,

and an iphone thirtysix. they were coralled like beasts of disney.

they were aimed at a set called television which beamed

correct happy things alternating with things to fear or confuse.

babies wet each others, had fights, rolled happy drooling,

the iphone thirtysix was lonely but had fun beeping in stupid ringtones:

                                                                                              it got a life of its own.

the babysitter took a bath out on the deck

while the poodles sat the spaniel who was watching the

iphone thirtysix videomonitor the eleven assorted infantry.

the bubble bath was perfect under a blaring stereo moon

it was modest and helped out her sister's sister

all the tomcats in the world meowled at the big party on the roof

it sounded huge but was just another day in baby kingdom

*   *   *

the smore hovered over the earth lake and drank up a portion

before reappearing over the home of  the boy chosen

before time, to be there as his first zit bloomed and hold his hand

from outer space during the agony of that first zit

then it went back across veritable tarmac of time/space

in a popping motion that let loose a warpdrive

to excel at animated productions of feature programs

drinking up the attention from punts, runts, and grunts

*   *   *

bunny, bear, and horse were playing tennis at the park

when a storm blew in and ruined the game

they packed their balls and rackets in backpacks and ran home

cold and shivery. it was in the middle of the day.

there were crickets asleep under the floor boards and bread in the oven

bunny wanted a carrot, bear needed some honey, and whaddya think

horse had for lunch? honey carrots with alfalfa. they watched

the storm go away, goodbye storm hello smaller and smaller

raindrops and then no wind rather a blue crease of sky.

it was too wet for tennis, but not too wet.

*  *   *

a rowboat of glass

a totem pole on top of a chicken

a game of laughing to find the biggest and bestest friend

a tree to scale with fingers barely more open than acorns

a wave of air capable of wishing stars weren't fireflies

a taste of mom's food after hours and hours

playing ball with dad shooting hoops or catch much younger an

anchor made of sandriverleavings

a smile reaching past the laughter willing limb handles

doing skin the cat having the bed made over me

creepmouse daughters diving off my shoulders as i stand in the lake

*   *   *

acting out westerns with toy cap guns in the woods

never got me shot by the cops in real world our skateboarding

around campus wasn't hooligan behavior neither was

walking around town after midnight if we wanted playing tennis

middle of the night with all the lights on

taking the bikes down the highway to the minnow and candy store

going fishing at friends ponds for hours unattended most surely

playing sports for years playing the violin

being a semisuperhero before that drawing soldiers and tanks during vietnam

acting out acting out acting out boy boy boy

*   *   *

longhaired snowbunny with superlong feet met sasquach

under the sequoia on a planet not far away, and asked for some foot

advice: trim the nails with tools, or chew them off?

sasquatch: i never chew mine off, thats nasty. i use obsidian shears.

snowbunny: it figures

they lead a charmed and solitary existence, so their banter is often curt.

snowbunny: want to see some frozen huckleberry bushes?

sas: you mean the ones behind you stained purple like snowconemen"

up flew a cardinal as red as a jfk xmas in france, she had

a foot question too: leave your tracks in the snow, or eat them?

*   *   *

all the wee bumpkins in their iconic villager ruffles and d'arty kids

preamblin' thru a picture of america the beautiful

warts and all, horse trough handsink, lodging with foes of renown,

getting taken to sea hogtied to work for eight months

better to barter one's larder on shore for sure

free trudgingly stumbling from pal to pub to log and stove

dressed commonly in no uniformity forced to kneel

but for beknightings of treelimbs as one works ones way home

thru dense underbrush never destroyed

untamed terrains unterraced or terrorized domains

bloomers kilts& lorry sleds, the marking of america

well hitched in burlap knickers and cardigans

kept clean enuff to leave finally to the d'arty kids

*   *   *

born a pony

never once

mule by nature

ever dunce

pointed wonder

pulling weight

unicorn power

never late

*** *** ***

in the treehouse, sallyjo and buster had a pretend microwave and a box of food toys

with vines plugging the treehouse into the beginning of the morning

and the sun doing extra good warming them and making the cutlery user friendy

for four year olds, sally jo and brother buster mixed a tub of dust and twig chips

with three driblets of spit from buster and set the microwave to high

using a dial made from a soda cap nailed on, in the treehouse three feet seemed

to be in the upper clouds if they dropped pizza off the rail it took

a good minute or two to bring it back up the step with olive-rocks on top

of the mudsauce and dirtcheese boarddough, in the treehouse a binoculars

helped spy good cats and bad dogs, and rotten old neighbors, in the

treehouse there were only stick walls and a roof there was only a pretend

address and a pretend skull and crossbones chalked on the floor

in the treehouse we can leave the faucet running

door open lights on fridge open but never laugh when leaves

blow off into piles and months go by with nary a bud nor flower to mircofry

*   *   *

cheese mouse sat near the great museum and sniffed his fill, and decided to tunnel

in near the bank where it was softly available, nibble thru the melty brie exterior

into the mozzarella brick and string cheese girders, grinding parmesean concrete

to get to the aged cheddar valult, just past moldy blue security poison. 

a worm had made its way thru eight feet of soil to find a mate. everything is unrelated.

*   *   *

in a marathon race with dragonflies one better borrow a jetpack

or a da vinci kit and three d printer. the dragonflies had promised to visit ladybug

for years, but they were always busy. then, at  the kale patch, they finally

made a date and said they'd bring a game to play. instead, they brought a kingfisher

it was rather inappropriate, said the ladybug, looking up at kingfishers nice beak.

dragonfly used it as an excuse to huff off, which was fine by ladybug.

and kingfisher had laundry to do. in a long distance race with olde turtles and

salty sailors the preying mantis moves best: at once.

*   *   *

squid and kangaroo had nothing to do

 but say adieu to vous and vous

lark and crow gave nowhere a show

in view of the few born with a clue

moose and hog rolled snake and frog

to joke the hawk and others mock

lightning let loose the new caboose

squidaroo and kanga too had no hands to move

*   *   *

a mammoth would sit on this spot and feed her young

in the days not long ago, among heaps of frozen spinach

the mammoth would linger, draped in glory of popeye,

giving her baby some milk from a huge bottle

by the volcanic gloryhole birthing drinking ware for prehistory.

a mammoth would stand on this spot and watch

for lions, her mate scouring the underbrush just near.

a mammoth would live among others

their power more than just their size, as monuments

in motion they would rest on this spot

clean from the river, unhunted by life

*   *   *

monkey flew first class to the  walnut factory to buy some snark.

the walnut stumps fun to climb over in the airplane lavatory

all those stamps covering monkey

all that monkey business being made to order just with flag decals

at the walnut factory mailbox monkey did the self delivery

of finding the source of the walnuts

which was in fact a truck with a time portal in the exhaust pipe

in he went like a barrel full of explorers after nut banana pie

the stamps began to undo his motion of monkey elegance

he ripped furiously as john muir in heathen marin discovered the yeti

the stamps janis joplin wore off the jimi stamp was tuned on

walnuts didn't seem so important anymore

he wondered why he'd spent so many aeons swinging the vines of time

to get here first class in a race to stay extinct? not.

 *   *  *

undersea dolphin tribes and better places forbidden to humans

but not to kids and assorted children, they built=to order the imagination

delicate materials, gossamer hypotheticals, fantastical creatures

other things with eyes, you'll see

                                                                        undersea dolphin tribes.

***


ice baby had a popsicle dinner and went to her sled

on the steepy steep icelair she lived in during each winter

when the ice was her encyclopedia dinner.

she boarded her sled and pushed off down the mountainside she careened

as they call it, wildly careening rather carefully careening

she knew the way and even the sled knew the way, it was old hat

zigzagging thru huge cedar and pine trees past gigantic rocks

ice baby made it look easy. she glided to a stop and hung the sled under a shed

and her muckalucks went charging thru fresh thick snow several feet deep

*   *  *

the important blue boat bobbed updown awash in bubblebathwaves as the twins

loaded up the passengers on it and a sunken castle of sorts whose spires

reached from subaquatic depot of the tub with passengers in pretend tourist gear

affixed to the props, the blue boat, the castle, the minature salty old sailor,

the boat in a bubble fog and roar of dramatic licencse in re enactments

of all possibilities with 23 passengers and only deck space for three

they ride the castle off into the bubbles, the important blue boat

lands up on the monogramed towel near the door

*   *   *

baby baby bear was not small by a mile nor dumb as a brute

he was not great by dimension but he had time figured out

the smaller more tiny he tried to become it worked it worked, all goodfun

until as they say as they oftenmost should, baby bear saw his missing extra

babybearness shredding a nest at the top of tree, towering too much

for a baby babybear's reputation as they say, a binkie of pinecone, a blankie

 of goatbeardlichen he was not insignificant nor a cuddly posterchild for soap

he had a strangers egg in his paw when the lighting bolt lassoed him home

leaving mere baby bear  less innocent not to say larger in any regard

*   *   *

wild horses on a chartered tour bus of the great plains states, just easing

back in their swivel contraptions sippin alfalfa juice thru curly straws

they have the world at their disposal, but why dispose of the world when highway

just butters right over the land and rivers and mighty chasms, the wild horses

on r and r, exhausted, ready to unwind stick their necks out the bus windows

there isn't a tree for two hundred miles the sun is going down,

their hooves are so relaxed they fall off their legs and roll on the bus floor

they end up wearing each others socks when they stop for a break

looking at saddles in the shops and shaking their heads, wild horses.

*   *   *

the salty sailor woke up wearing his hammock under the nose

again, again, again but just in time to provide ones soy vases

to an actual walrus. being in his waters, it were best to grease the cogs with soy.

walrus went thru a good measure of soy in his fishy needs,

and he had extended family with extensions of other fauna and even planet.

the salty sailor was having a hard time with complexity away from his

sheer nautical prowess, which was partly hyperbole. it seemed that sodium

for brain fluid was not optimal. he began a dew diet of morning dew and

occasional late afternoon dew after scrutinizing the mildew.

he seemed to have utterly forgotten Walrus, staring at him for the past five minutes.

the salty sailor slapped his noggin and remembered his Cargo

excused himself from the ever unruffled Walrus and went to stir the lobster farm.

*   *   *

woodpecker found a new place to sharpen the beak, on a rock.

the rock was in the yard of the sherrif, but what should he care? he's at work. so

woodpecker begins grinding on the rock . he draws things. they look funny.

best of all, his beak is sharp. next day, a badger come up to woodpecker by the

rotten fence company.  how about we go fishing for termites? they bought some

angel hair pasta, eight bags of marshmallows, a zipline, and some bobbers.

woodpecker nearly implaled a rhino on the way out of the store, his beak was almost

too sharp. fortunately, the rhino was wearing his pendleton blanket collection.

they found an enormous tree, and woodpecker did a quick piece of drilling

into the termite metropolis. they came furiating out with every curse word in the

termite tongue, clutching their young, mealy and unsypathetic as they were.  they

made a truce. they gave them their collection of mildewed seeds which was legendary

among the citizens of the woods who liked such disgusting vittles.

woodpecker used his sharp beak on the seeds, and badger had his share put in a

looking glass handle, as an oddity.

*   *   *

post modern dolphin yoga, and better places forbidden to humans

but not to kids and assorted children as they create the ocean of deep space

using informed delicate materials, random mysteries, indelible vocals,

other things with eyes inside their ears, we think to smell, re-orientated.

topsy turvy poetry, understanding life in giggling pods racing along never alone

in others hearts using sonar to kiss is not uncommon

oceans full of waiters bringing waters glacial cold to re-invent the ceiling floor.

planets in raindrops on smiles of dolphins

just for you three girls, poetry is there and around all, loving.

*   *   *


sweet dreams on little girl minds

in peaceful homes protected by no jets

but the love of father and mercies of mother

big girl dreaming,

thousand idea flashes per moment*   *   *



the power you have sleeping

unleash on future tangled now 





written  near Mt Tabor 

XMAS 2015

in 2 days, for Mesa, Isis, and Surreal, my daughters





In the hammersmith garage (1987)

  

winter prys its icy fingers

into the crack of the huge sliding door,

pointed colors gust in the car exhaust.


greasy joe slides under a car

&wrenches at pipes, straining

not unlike a man milking a cow

in the frost of four a.m. iowa


he loosens a nut that drains the oil

and the cow wobbles

weakheaded. he puts a feedsack over the hood


and gives the back fender a

fleshy, familiar slap 





Lawrence, Kansas 1987

published in the Allegheny Review

won William Herbert Carruth Poetry prize at K.U.

Carving pumpkins (1988)

  

this is a poem about writing about poetry,


like a cigarette you think


you're only getting tobacco but yer smoking the paper,


like religion you think you got god


but it's just opinion with trace elements of motive,


but unlike other products this poem


has substance and a vague nature


  Q: does it smell like the wet oils of mondrian?


       does it do descarte's illusory polka?


       does it shrink, cotton-candy in the saliva


           of your mind, or does it explode,


            a dream deferred? does dream smoke


               exist, rene, if all thoughts run dreams


the question is, what are you missing


         art thou a happy green cow?


                         




                         *


                       


b. for you lazy sack of silt readers


this is an aesthetic poem, meaning


it don't address the mystery of the locked nest monster


nor does it issue a fashion statement


nor does it stimulate emotions deeper


than nausea, loneliness, ennui.


          tonight we carved pumpkins




cut around their stems& pulled out


strands of gooey slime


we piled the entrails on paper sacks cut down


the middle& pulled flat


my friends took them into a dark room and that made it


even darker, they glowered like demons


like a proper wedding


like god al made one with a smiley face


&put it in the gutted out torso of an old TV set,


an innocent model from the 1950's




its shadow flickered onto our faces


we thin gin


we sing sin


we die soon, build fleshy prosthesis controls


we remote control kids


we say no, we silly putty cracks,


we are the envy of the world spanish maid,


indian doormat


god on my side get off my cloud


pumpkins in the office, the classrooms




                   *




we used to get our milk from the goldenbergs


when i was little


when family owned little blue an ancient VW bug


we'd go puttering up to their farmhouse


on the south side of town by the public pool


where brother grant and i first played with black kids


they rubbed baby oil on their skin


to slide thru that water


grant and i would wait by the car when momma


went fetching, the front of the hood


tied shut with rope fenders red white and blue


by the farmhouse was a hedge apple tree


that gave us ample ammo for the cows


in the field their udders all saggy


leather clouds


none of them had bells around the neck


none wrote dissertations or baked perfect pies


they perfected Moos


they never tried to jump that moon


Once we saw them deliver a calf next door over at


harvey's barn in the middle of night


by the light of kerosene lanterns we say it


get born and it was swirly


                         like a red beard full of snot


                         like a frozen sun


                         like heart's drain plug 


mom would come back out with gallon jar


of natural milk, tinfoil rubber banded lid,


at home she separated cream off the top


tho invariably a tiny white curd


or two made it past and we'd wish for store-bought


milk, real milk


i'd like to think she told us sorry that's life


but i think she took it and framed it


on the mantled wall, next to a swatted fly stain,


not the thing itself,


its image.








1988 

stillwater Ok


Sirensong duh (1994)

  

nowdays prometheus cleptos

zippos @ cocktail whingdings,

elegant venus steps naked

out of virtual reality beerfoam


to impassion the dullard epic,

hercules cleans not the stable

rather scours congress

to emblazon history with parsley myth,


odysseus don't poke

out ogre eye, rather flips on donahue

to equal access the siren

song duh














Maui, Hi

1994

Cinderblocked (1986)

  

cinderblocks fuse, make walls


to create schools, teachers-books-n-eraser aroma


hitch up to pull the petridish across


the prarie horizon




we dehydrate the buildings, add patriotism


fer poptart institutions




halls shine with waxy mirror glow


while the oxen bandage their bloody hooves


with report cards  












1987


Univ. of Kansas

Facademia (2018)

  

Ultimately the facade was defaced in ivy


That ate the lead paint chips


In soggy relish just down the blvd on rye


As decadent decades deformulate


Sending ultimatums repurposed in roses


Whose thorns made epitomy a razor


Under swordfern


-soft dogshit shadows,


Ultimately the wuthering heights weathered


Ladders smellnotof rosy gallops


Teetered toward taught layers leadpaned academics


Scabbed in leagues of creepy ivy


The facade faced suns other music

Frostbit copperhead

  

Fingerless maestro




Death gobbles charismatic 




Tone deaf world 




___ 








Frostbit copperhead




Slithering molasses wise 




Keep tail sequestered 








___ 




 




Bent tent stake land run 




Possession nine tenths of law 




Indigenous myth 








___ 








Bone flute offering 




Breath drills fire evacuation 




Music hibernation 








___  








Library shave hurry 




Others wait dog---earring 




Western theme whiskers 








___ 




 




Shed skin polka dots 




Peacoat lapel, haphazard




Snow globe run amok 








___ 








Community center shut 




Birds bathe harmonious dirt 




Cats lick patiently 








___  








Buffalo stoic 




Waiting in lines frigid 




No passing sermon 




___ 








Common needs feather  




adornment utility 




Beauty flight home  










SE Portland  

2024








































 






Ain't no jobs (1986)

  

Ain’t no jobs in Stillsville none in the greasy armpit


Restaurants where the youth roll up their sleeves and plunge


Into the putrid dishwater and choke on the shit eating grin


While cleaning up for the zillionaire rednecks and


Their beehived concubines who snarl for ashtrays and deposit


Their chewing gum under yer apron




Ain’t no work in the convenience store unless ya lop off


Yer hair’s golden plumes and forsake the limbs of


Yer mind to the tree cutters and even if


You get the job it means livin on money stained with the


Feces of satan where bossman hides his piggybank full




Of coke and bribery ain’t no work with the paintbrush


Unless you got her papers certifying your ability to


Mask the seams cause even  if you were to get a shot at


That job you’d probably fall off a ladder with


Paint in your eyes




Ain’t no labor opportunity in the construction sectors because


They’re being hatched prefab in mexico and korea


Out of shredded old growth complete with bedside bible


And ten gauge and even if you lucked into a shift


Here and there you’d see thru the shabbiness of the human condition


And make homes of mud




But there ain’t no positions to fill being a protector of the


Planet tho if I could get this appointment I’d


Take a few looks at our lawnmowers and suburban sprawl and


Family dissolution which would


Be more than an unending job. 



 

 


Stillwater, OK 

Applerot puce (1986)

  

Not so long ago yellow meant chicken shit, now


It’s a power color for china toothed execs, canary colored


Ties for banana republic tyrants driving bmws thru


Shuddering morning traffic to get to the golf course where chrome


Bumpered carts await while their children lap-up


Computer generated wet dreams while mom looks like


A million but only pays taxes on 60 thou


While looking like the cat who ate the fiscal coalmine canary


While toting the republic’s banner, their march


Is a synchronized goosestepping thru the flowers of people’s


Park as they once stuffed daisies in soldier’s


Rifles they now feed billions into defense industry trifles,


There’s a chilling draft to these diamond dimpled types


As they draft more efficient ways to avoid taxes


While drafting more efficient ways to imprison while


Drawing-n-quartering the heathen, they have


In fact trashed the mythic american dream by


Enforcing the urine test, spewing out neon radioactive


Clouds, forcing school children to kneel and salute


The cloth, promoting the red scare


And warning the tykes not to take their eyes off the pie


Soon the official color will be apple rot puce


And all will dress officially


While attending state-sanctioned executions and


Abortion clinic blockades, the new order has shed the


Pinstriped gangster suit and invoked the


Fashions of miami vice to cloak


Their savagery in pastels 






 




Lawrence KS 1986


Templin hall, KU

Stark street sleet (2017)

  

here comes ice, silver-sealing sky ceiling


sprinkle blast clean, stark street kneeling,


   under the awning, yvonne in her box;


   streets now white, stark school of knocks




rap tap napping --------her cardboard door,


ice gets his beak wet in the neck of the poor


   burger bag litter, all soggy with sleet


   silvered sky ceiling, sideways indiscrete




blowing fine ice dust from two miles above


yvonne's eyelids fluttered their doves


   butterfly kissing the cold that could bill


   there on white stark street, intractable 




a sojourn to cheek hill, the ice near belabored


transfigured our landscape around old mount tabor










2017

Bullnose cat (2018)

  

grant and i work the pond in the canoe,


fishing for catfish and bass,


mom sunbathes on a blanket on the shore,


the back of the mazda open with her picnic ready,


once she grades twenty more bluebooks,


once we land the big fish or need root beer,


hope it isn't braunschweiger sandwiches


maybe it is peanut butter pickle relish mayo and lettuce


her perfect bread makes up for middle,


we hike the woods and look for morels or feathers,


jump the soggy trail patches, climb sandstone,


pull the tube socks up and get thru brambles,


bull nose catfish not much there


toss them on the bank says gordon and marty


but i can't. 








2018 


Portland