Three Fingers, Three Rocks

“Bourbon Whiskey” by Aleksey Vaynshteyn

 

it squats on the floor

at my feet

staring up at me

taunts me with

heartbeats and whispers

that force me to listen

it shows up at hours

I find inconvenient when

nothing but time and

three fingers three rocks

should be mine all alone

in my savor of earned

blissful mindlessness

damn this intrusion

this arrogant animal

sticking itself to my

carpeted shadow

its all too familiarness

quashing the peace

of an evening

my solitude ruined

indulgence in sweet

meta-ethical unity

dashed by discomfort

of prickling reflection

brought on by its

mad grinning presence

enjoying its powers

of torment

beyond polite reason

 

 

(From my book Ephemera)

Mountebank

Charlatan Image from Pinterest

 

I am the scourge
spewing oaths unto the winds
my name is legion

Progression

“Portrait of Paris von Gutersloh” by Egon Schiele

 

evolution entails
something more than survival
juggling irony

 

 

From my book Pieces of Wine

Snowbound

Image from pinterest.com

 

an apparent purification

serene and pristine

soft illusions of sinless ground

a gleaming cold interlude

placid still setting in

blue-tinted glow-light

of three winter moons

between seasons of signs

left by waxing and waning

ambitions who vied in more

ruthless arenas of summer

but here and for now

beneath bloodless white scapes

human nature lies dormant

till the damnable tracks

of iniquitous men

at their merciless deeds

reappear with the thaw

among here-and-there

traces of nobler humanity

Conundrums

Image from pinterest.com

in the swamp
lives leviathan
nostrils alert
for the scent
of men’s lies
jaws engaged
set to snap
the black bones
of deception
and here does he
thrive never once
going hungry

in this fetid
arena where
speeches are
riddles and
trust the frail
province of fools
are great ethical
quandaries civic
conundrums
enough to try
sanity shatter
the mind of an
optimist citizen

no one to pick
up the shards
but the duped
who’ve been led
to embrace the
conceit that the
broken man’s
pieces result
from what surely
must be his mean
sinister judgments
and not from
enlightened
conviction

this dangerous
dark oily place
cannot ever let
truth find escape
it must die here
on tongues of
impostors whose
campaigns contain
empty rhetoric
only to govern as
solipsist rogues
rooted deep in
the slime of all
dead and decayed
noble purpose

 

 

From my book Ephemera

Sarabande

“Waltz at the Bal Mabille” by

 

brass tangents strike notes
blithe of lilt within hinged
hardwood cabinet breasts
courtly clavichords call
upon Goldberg from Bach
turn to Handel for suite in
duet of politest inducement
nobility toe-stepping red
slippered privilege in silken
curled wigs prance across
marble floors gilt with light
from torchière candelabras
deferring the centers to
dauphins and damselles the
whole of each great genteel
hall all the gay midnight
mansions of empire dance
to the joy of their pleasing
self-image reflected from
flattering golden framed
mirrors obsequious artifacts
falsely informed and oblivious
to revolution that seethes
among squalorous precincts
upwelling with impatient
courage to remake their world

 

 

From my book Pieces of Wine

Affinity

“Chestnut Tree in Winter” by Francis Hamel

 

ancient chestnut

arms spread overhead

it protects me

respects my affinity

stands as my guard

against doubt and debility

dressed in its deep

rugged corduroy skin

sieged by seasons

two centuries past

true New Englander

staunch independent

no forest no village

of likeminded trees

needs sustain it

I take its example

I practice to imitate valor

find wherewithal

needed to face my

own human adversities

stoically proudly erect

faith invested in

one mighty axiom

live free or die

 

 

From my book
Ephemera: Moments of Mind

Christmas Star

 

“O Little Town of Bethlehem” by Carol Sheli Cantrell

 
bright Bethlehem star

who pierced the longest dark night

hopeful newborn light

showed the path to redemption

for those souls brave in their faith

Philosopher’s Stone

“The Philosopher’s Stone” by Alexandra Eldridge

iron to gold

profane crucible

blessed with a waive

of ritual hands

incantations escape

words ex-nihilo

drift with mysterious

meter from lips

cowled and bearded

a magus in thrall

elemental elixirs

bequeath immortality

wise with the broth

brewed of secrets

one stone magnum opus

impressed by the ages

immersed in distilled

aqua vitae the rosy cross

waters that washed

the ambitions of ancients

*************************

 

From my book

Ephemera: Moments of Mind

 

Mind-Body Dilemma

Illustration from “De Homine” by Rene Descartes

no pain like the pain

broken bodies relocate

inside of the mind

thoughts that hurt for the thinking

afflictions of memory