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Mumblings / Poetry, Early 2020 Like mentioned on some other poetry pages, it's James Dickey-inspired poetry. Not sure why all these ended up on yet another separate page. It seemed necessary to break up the uploads of dazzling, brilliant prose. (heh, heh) NOTE: None of these are repeated in the not-new-anymore digital poetry book, Brief Tales of Compromised Solutions
What Has Changed on the Animal Farm?
The sun still rises
The grass still grows
The sky seems blue
And the water still flows
They pulled off their blinders
But the fences didn't change
A different sort of freedom
For a home on the range
Really, what has changed on the animal farm?
What about you, cow?
Can you say that new rules benefit all?
Are the animals you put your trust in sowing what they should?
Working your hooves to the hilt
Because the milk cannot be left in your hands
And your rump still goes for five dollars per pound
What about you, pig?
Can we trust that you roll honourably in the slop?
Are the policies regarding the portioning of truffles to everyone's
liking?
Curling your tail to the base
Because negations needed a hard-snout approach
And you've never been afraid to make an ear of someone else
What about you, chicken?
Can you sense a change in the humid air?
Are the fallow days and nights really coming to an end?
Clucking over a too familiar ground
Because the new dispenser has a pecking order
And you've chosen the worst time to lose your head
What about you, farmer?
Can you recognize the changes before you?
Are your arms too tired or your stomach too empty?
Being hung up and out on a scarecrow post
Because that morning was one step over the horizon line
And your family is strung up right beside you
The sun should rise
The grass will fret
The sky goes grey
And the water stays wet
They swapped out the titles
But the pyramid stayed
The levels are set
And the debts aren't repaid
Really, what has changed on the animal farm?
Bringing In The
Bottles
Bringing in the bottles
Might get ruined in the rain
I'm listening to both of them
And waiting for the wet
There's a kind way about the summer wind
Saying hello like a flustered friend
And leaving without a parting shake
It's all the nature we could get
Dreams of towering trees from eras past
'They reached for the twinkling stars!'
Is the laughter and mocking from today
But it was a simple plan well set
To the watches and the wrists
Running the world with one free hand
The sun doesn't know it follows us
But still wins the longest bet
Rolled the dice with old lions
Hid cards in too short sleeves
It was never about refusing
It was about what to finally let
The best kind of permission
Come from a sense of duty served
A topping up of sugared water
In glasses by those well met
Felled by time's arrow
Shot through the heart or hand
Another toast is finally burned
And the bottles smash regret
Out, Out Damn Thought
Give me a moment's rest
I want to feel the air 'tween my ears
There's the need to flip familiar letters
And create a blot from a deep breath
It's just that feeling at the now
Passing with album speeds
And something we don't have a word for
Which is why I post record quotations
Working half as hard because that's what it pays
Using hands we no longer need
Falling behind all together so we think we're moving forward
We're following our backwards steps
Grey stones line the hill
And the wind's not charming either
Feeling most alive between stations and stops
If a man is his castle then we're inside ourselves a lot
When I talk about butterflies
I am certain they want to raise hell
Sweet lovely November
Before the winter that brought so little
Pay attention to me not worrying about it
Speculate my heart rate from across the street
Present to me your terms via textbook seizure
I can handle it I've got decoys for blood
Stressing the syllables after the final edit
Pushing for change too close to the cliff
Waiting with the rooms that go nowhere
I can make sure this doesn't make the magazine
Windy Trash
Factory
You make peace
I
make mistakes
One falls into deep sleep
The other always awakes
A
farewell to new friends
Having trouble with first and last names
A
bond that breaks but never bends
A
hazy memory of rumours and claims
I
only breathe the secondhands
And so I rarely act alone
The blame is spread across the lands
Where you had to steal to own
Rows of houses knocked on the door
It's same-time knock echoed across the plains
Blowing trees across the floor
And wiping out a year of hard raised gains
Forcing words before their time
Untimely ripped and wounded
With the sun up it's time to rhyme
But it gives no pleasure like the moon did
Less Than Words
When you get to thinking
About the lines that cut into your face
Deeper with every morning
You realize that it's time pressing you down
I
allowed the waves
And I wasn't even drunk
Deeper with every step
I
knew that the future pulls everyone under
Only the living hate surprises
Takes the air right out of the lungs
Deeper with every breath
And never as rich as when you were too young to care
They knew the pieces fit
Why they had to throw them in an open flame
Deeper with every season
A
solved puzzle is no fun at all
They found love on a Sunday morning
It must be something in their heads
Deeper with every breath
Time stops beneath the sheets
It was Here
If you can't die you're not alive
It was here
The point I made did not arrive
It was here
The water kept rising
The stakes kept holding
The heads kept cracking
The whips kept snapping
The neck kept turning
The wheels kept rolling
The eyes kept closing
The windows kept rattling
The bones kept breaking
The waves kept splashing
The water...
And I was disbelieving the words of the dark rain
Cousin of the black rain
Friend of the hard rain
Not out of suspicion but desperation
I was getting too strung out on lies
And asked for the truth
But it was like a cold hand on the throat
And I wrenched away from it with my weakness on full display
My soul as naked as birth but pitiful and pale
Mark the bodies with yellow chalk
It was here
Move them to the ancient rock
It was here
The people had changed
The barriers had failed
The towns had flooded
The stories had changed
The hands had closed
The walls had cracked
The lakes had drained
The forest had burned
The decisions had reversed
The silence had erupted
The people...
And I was ravenous for another slice of life
A chunk of time
An apportionment of memory
Not out of the ordinary
I was getting just enough of the nine two five
And asked for a hand
But it was an open palm across the face
And I pulled away from it with a humiliated shock
My cheeks as red as blood as on snow
Save the ideas within reach
It was here
Bury them on a faraway beach
It was here
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A real plan B has it's own plan B | |||