Most Recent Ramblings:
- Bless the Telephone
Bless the telephone
Bless warm inflection, familiar tone
Captured in disposed mechanical tomes
Though mostly it traces miles and miles
Of stray cats and fake smiles
As knowing hands grow farther away.
Bless the telephone
Bless crackling laughter, pixel faces
Sent to infinite time capsules at .99 bases
Though mostly it pushes lies, little tries,
Down eager throats and past closed eyes
As increasingly feeble bonds come undone.
Bless the telephone
Bless the illusion of community, connection
Decorating hours of time spent alone
Though mostly it leads us all
Farther and farther astray:
Further away from home.– E.B.
- 3.2-4-2
1.
Hail flesh
Powder and prep
Fresh meat2.
Begin
All over again
Begin3.
Landing
Like buzzing flies
Espy eyesE.B.
Three separate poems inspired by a challenge to write a poem of three lines with two syllables in the first line, four in the second, and two in the last. None submitted and only the first meets the guidelines, but inspiration is inspiration. I’ll take it where I can get it.
- Hunter/Gatherer
Simple sweet pleasure in success
Soft supple clouds of possession
Born of the gather, bred from the hunt
Feeling for fields stripped of roots
Stalking a prey already abused
Foraging in fluorescent lit rooms
Pick and pluck
Which is juiciest, which is plump
From scores of pre-sifted sections
Of ever deceiving selections
To satisfy that most innate delight
I gather, I provide.– E.B.
- Oysters in my Pocket
The cats have come to do their baking,
as we lay under sea foam plush;
Waves of you and I disrupt the comfortable shallows of fluff.
Eyelids flutter in soft retaliation,
And cold toes find warm legs to rest on,
As the arms of the day reach through with loving embrace,
To draw out the sleepy tide
On our ocean of co-creation.– E.B.
- Laughter/medicine
Silence into laughter;
A thunderous boom,
A comfortable bloom,
That does transform a room.
Saturnine into giggling;
An uncontrolled retreat,
A sweet, incomparable relief,
That does soothe everything so.– E.B.
- Not To Be Played With
I am not a toy.
Bat me around,
clenching woven feathers.
I am not a toy.
Claws under red-painted skin,
defenselessly defensive.
I am not a toy.
Didn’t know this was “play”;
What a sickening game.
I am not a toy.
Bone meets teeth
in fateful defeat.
Mouth to meat,
Boy to girl,
You to me.
Not a toy;
Not a treat.E.B
“The painter pondered the mournful puzzle of life demanding to be born and, once born, demanding to be fruitful … to multiply and to live as long as possible—to do all that on a very small planet that would have to last forever.”
– Kurt Vonnegut, 2 B R 0 2 B
Books & Short Stories I Recommend:
- Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
- Inside the Blood Factory by Diane Wakoski
- Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
- Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes
- Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons
- The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman
- 2 B R 0 2 B by Kurt Vonnegut
Less Recent Ramblings:
“It’s a sunny little doomed planet, inhabited by a number of frisky little doomed animals.”
– Professor Farnsworth, Futurama
More:
- (no title)“To the attentive eye, each moment of the year has its own beauty, and in the same field, it beholds, every hour, a picture which was never seen before, and which shall never be seen again.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature
- (no title)“Don’t ask for guarantees. And don’t look to be saved in any one thing, person, machine, or library. Do your own bit of saving, and if you drown, at least die knowing you were heading for shore.” – Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
- (no title)“I have to constantly re-identify myself to myself, reactivate my own standards, my own convictions about what I’m doing and why.” – Nina Simone “What kept me sane was knowing that things would change, and it was a question of keeping myself together until they did.” – Nina Simone
- 3.2-4-21.Hail fleshPowder and prepFresh meat 2.BeginAll over againBegin 3.LandingLike buzzing fliesEspy eyes E.B. Three separate poems inspired by a challenge to write a poem of three lines with two syllables in the first line, four in the second, and two in the last. None submitted and only the first meets the guidelines, but inspiration isContinue reading “3.2-4-2”
- A Cracked Spine Down The MiddleStories are often told Riddled with what’s unwritten disguised;Hidden beneath delicate, lacy layers Of lovers in lion dens, Lonely mages, And iron sword men.Somewhere there deep within,Past the missing pages of a subtle smile,Beats the heart of what’s unseen.But flash does capture such essence,Such beguile;Who’s to miss the piecesLost to wind blown leavesWhen following theseContinue reading “A Cracked Spine Down The Middle”
- A moment/A lifetimeSomething askew,Whether heart or brain,It, of course, is nothing new.Ages have passed, I do know that when I have gone time does still move on,Though I, somehow, stay stuck here, alone on your lawn.I gaze in through the smallest curtains crack and if I stray, pieces of hardened, fuzzy, breadcrumb lead me right back.I don’tContinue reading “A moment/A lifetime”
- A PoemPulled into the grasp, Still behind the mask, I watch, Through eyes that cease to be mine As my life takes on the present That will soon become the past.
- A Watched Pot Never BoilsEnamored by worthwhile,Tangled in meanwhile,Watching water boil.Inclusive, but intrusive?Unnecessarily imperative,An eye caught by the shine of tin foil,Watching water boil.Standstill venturingTowards ephemeral unfettering,Watching water boil.How freeing a moment can be;A breath of fresh air,A touch, A stare, butWatching water boil?A comfortable squabble.Inadvertently carnal,The need to devour before time does spoil,And touch hot oil,Waiting for theContinue reading “A Watched Pot Never Boils”
- Bless the TelephoneBless the telephone Bless warm inflection, familiar toneCaptured in disposed mechanical tomesThough mostly it traces miles and miles Of stray cats and fake smilesAs knowing hands grow farther away.Bless the telephoneBless crackling laughter, pixel faces Sent to infinite time capsules at .99 bases Though mostly it pushes lies, little tries,Down eager throats and past closedContinue reading “Bless the Telephone”
- Dead EndFreedom is A fickle thing;The sequences Leading up toActions yet known.Hearing that familiar voice In Message,After Message On the phone. The bell’s ringing,So hurry now, Hide,Pretend no one’s home.Walk now,All seeing, Past the same old address, Though it wears a fancy new dress – Isn’t that some kind of joke?Push aside the same mess, PretendContinue reading “Dead End”
- Don’t get me wrong, actual snakes are innocentSnakes seduce,So do you.Slither slowly,Writhe, and twist.Strangling in plain view, Strangling submissive youth.Smothered,And desperateAmidst a lack of air,An unspoken truth Dies there.Snakes mangle heartsConstrict leisurely,Grip and ConflictContorting with malice aforethought,Contorting possible light, possible self,Posterity.Contorted,And conditioned,From a lack of care,A child hides thereScared and aware.Snakes seize brains, So often unkind.Spinelessly spinose,Yet, “Of sound mind”.They bind.Bound dayContinue reading “Don’t get me wrong, actual snakes are innocent”
- EmotionsBe a rock,Solid and sturdy.Show them,Make it seem that the world,The world is not heavy.Be a bird,Light and beauty.Sing to those,Those in needIn need of your melody.Be a river,Glimmer and flow.Feel the energyCome and go,Accepting of that,That which you may not know.Be a star,Shine and explode.Knowing that no one,No one can always beIn control. –Continue reading “Emotions”
- ExistenceExistential dread, Drowning in my own head. Possibilities insignificant, Yet they overwhelm. I didn’t choose to exist, Though if there is a choice, Life has chosen for me. Born into infinity, Torn to shreds by “possibility”. Nothing matters, Yet it’s worrisome all the same. I did not choose to exist No one chooses to exist,Continue reading “Existence”
- Fake NewsListen, But don’t learn. “We win”, you say, As we burn. “The news is fake” “The numbers skewed” When will we wake To power abused? We’ve seen it in lore, In 1984, Orwellian prophecy at our door. Big Brother can’t tell you what’s real Our History is not palimpsest But just in case, make sureContinue reading “Fake News”
- Floating through life“Reality seems valueless by comparison with the dreams of fevered imaginations; reality is therefore abandoned.” – Emile Durkheim Reality lacks a certain luster for me lately. Nothing is different, yet everything is constantly changing. I feel lost in my own fevered imagination. I try relentlessly to make something out of nothing, though I fear theContinue reading “Floating through life”
- FoolishLove should be blind, So separate from sight. Unhinder the mind, To be shallow is trite. There’s nothing to see, Not past the soul. So what else can beauty be, But a concept for the fool.
- Good/BadIn love and loathing With the endless elapse of timeEach day bursting,And “best face forward”!Each day an opportunity dismissed;A problematic delay in the filling of an abyss.Insipidly, yet incessantly hoping,Searching for silver linings,Or greener grass.Thoughts tied up in aftermath, In summary.Always walking the eyes path,Always lost in the rudimentary;So many days begin to bundle neatly,SeamlesslyContinue reading “Good/Bad”
- Half/HalfHalf empty glasses Of cheap red lament Scattered across our sunsets,Half empty,Or half full?Where is it that you haven’t gone yet,One who does desire so?Let the wind twist and pull.Half empty bottlesOf tawdry green requiem Scattered in our morning light,Half empty, Or half full?What is it you need to feel whole,Imperium?Let the waves crash andContinue reading “Half/Half”
- Hunter/GathererSimple sweet pleasure in success Soft supple clouds of possession Born of the gather, bred from the huntFeeling for fields stripped of roots Stalking a prey already abusedForaging in fluorescent lit roomsPick and pluckWhich is juiciest, which is plumpFrom scores of pre-sifted sections Of ever deceiving selectionsTo satisfy that most innate delightI gather, I provide.Continue reading “Hunter/Gatherer”
- Joyous NoiseSilence into laughter;A thunderous boom,A comfortable bloom,That does transform a room.Saturnine into giggling;A slow, yet uncontrollable retreat,A sweet, incomparable relief,That does soothe everything so. – E.B.
Comments:
In court the gavel falls all rise
An exceptional piece of poetry.
These are good moments. We don’t laugh enough…
I like the imagery! Cold toes find warm legs is my favorite line 🙂
I like your work. Please Keep Writing. This is how we heal ourselves and the planet!
THANK YOU FOR READING!
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Incoherence Into Incoherence 
I like your work. Please Keep Writing. This is how we heal ourselves and the planet!
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