Poesy Past

I enjoy checking other NaPoWriMo blogs as we await April Fool’s  day.

I have published 30 original poems every April since 2014 for NaPoWriMo.
I am re-posting previous poems during March.
You can read them by clicking on the NaPoWriMo widgets to the right


Bitter Poetaste in Mouth

Lightweight free-verse exploration,
withered ghosts and wisps of phrase,
breezy unamusing musings
barely raisehttps://i0.wp.com/upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/df/Comet-Hale-Bopp-29-03-1997_hires_adj.jpg

a titter, tear or lyric warning –
fail to reach a middling height;
then subside to shallow murmurs
(not quite).

Teenage existentialism
cryptic, dull confessional mush;
suitable for a poker-faced
unroyal flush.

Must you set this stuff in motion
fizzling through our universe:
half-bright comets leaving trails
of boring verse?

Incoherent thoughts meander
through your words like fish through nets
unable to ensnare your reader.
One forgets

whatever it was you started saying
(weirdly spaced, unpunctuated).
Could it be such thoughts are better
left unstated?


News of the Muse

This blog gets more views than usual during National Poetry Writing Month.
I enjoy checking other people’s blogs as well. Take a look at them so far.
To participate, you can submit your poetry blog HERE.

I have published 30 original poems every April for the last four years.
I am re-posting some older work during March.
You can read them by clicking on the NaPoWriMo widgets to the right


To a Progressive Poet

Your poems read as staggered prose;
the rhythm of the words escapes you.
One assumes, un-mused, you chose
a free-verse prison to run into.

You are modern. And it shows
in lack of structure, meter, beat.
Your emperor, set free of clothes
meanders on unsteady feet

exposed as naked, fending blows
from anarch subjects bored to tears
by cryptic, existential woes
and dreary imagery. One hears

within the verbiage you compose
a load of godless free-form tripe.
The lyrical ebb achieves new lows;
the scent is somewhat over-ripe . . .

Flux Danger

A Carefully Gated Medium


After all, on one end of the scale, poetry has gone from being something that you did in order to Write Your Name Large Across the Sky to a carefully gated medium that requires years of apprenticeship to produce meticulous golden lines that up to 10 people will ever voluntarily read. The last time I stumbled upon a poetry reading, the attendees were students of the poet who were there in the hopes of extra credit.


Alexandra Petri @ Washington Post

We MUST Change for the .5 Percent

The Fowl is Fair

We live in times of innovation. PHX 2
Winds of change affront the nation;
wind most welcome—by a few
(the masses know not what to do
with engineered progressive change,
their morals slow to rearrange).
And thus, in ornithology
we find an apt analogy…

Phoenix-like the vulture rose
in rainbow raiment, from repose
Its plumage all askew, a freak:
a mutant with a painted beak
borne of winds but lately blown.
This strange new hybrid (yet unflown)
did twitter forth an avian boon.
It preened its plumes and croaked a tune:

I represent that rarest fowl,
far wiser than outmoded owl…Phx rising
A dazzling swan of change am I
brought forth to liberate the sky!

(Yet more appeared a fractured emu;
fair is fowl post-op… they tried to
cross said emu with an ostrich!
(What the hell—the surgeon got rich
changing apples into mangos;
altering the twos to tangos…)

Fresh from gender suicide
he moulted into she. Beside
herself (itself?) with grief, regarded
previous selves as false: discarded
Sir for Madam overnight;PHX 3
fixed it, mixed it, made it right.
Since God was wrong the first time ‘round,
Man (or something) thus is bound
hormonally to tweak and mutate,
hastening rebirth’s freakish due-date.

A manly bass—and yet the face
was poorly paired in his/her case
Soprano ought to have resounded;
yet the voice left one confounded.

Rainbow bracelets notwithstanding
this was clearly modern branding
(on the forehead—like a beast?)
well, Jesus told the truth at least:
that angels are of neither gender
(hence no need to check the member.)

Lest we offend endangered species
I commend transgendered theses—
paired with warning and a fable
as they turn the feathered table:

We may nurture fair to foul
while nature shrieks a hideous howl
but foul to fair cannot return;
thus trapped, both Eve and Adam burn.

Phx rising