Start posting!

On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> Start posting

--------------------------------------------

Time An Enemy

Table set for two/one.
You're sitting there but silent,
aroma of a dish doesn't reach
but the aroma of disdain
fills the air.

Same place the ice cream giggle
and sticky lip kisses ended the night.

Same place mail delivered and opened.

"Look who sent us a card." I'd say

No cards today, everyone catching the scent
of dissolve.

So we sit in silence playing with food
like children pretending to eat.

I did, now I don't,
my tears rinse the dishes.

Edward Rochester Esq.

On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:57:49 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > Start posting
>
> --------------------------------------------
>
> Time An Enemy
>
> Table set for two/one.
> You're sitting there but silent,
> aroma of a dish doesn't reach
> but the aroma of disdain
> fills the air.
>
> Same place the ice cream giggle
> and sticky lip kisses ended the night.
>
> Same place mail delivered and opened.
>
> "Look who sent us a card." I'd say
>
> No cards today, everyone catching the scent
> of dissolve.
>
> So we sit in silence playing with food
> like children pretending to eat.
>
> I did, now I don't,
> my tears rinse the dishes.
>
> Edward Rochester Esq.

Look at that, I finally made it in-- and that wasn't even the piece I referred to being in the works.. it's still being reviewed by my posse-- the best damned audience I know.

My first poem was inspired by the title of a Leonard Cohen song:

A THOUSAND KISSES DEEP
A thousand kisses deep, and deeper still
Where words have no more meaning than the sound
Of rippling water in a woodland rill
Or apple blossoms dancing to the ground
On April breezes ripe with robinsꞌ songs.

A thousand love songs stolen from the moon
Stir in my heart with every secret smile;
Each longing glance serves to enhance the tune
That swells in starburst strains set to beguile
My soul to seek the soul for whom it longs

To find a love that angels fear keep
A love that runs a thousand kisses deep.

-- Michael M. Pendragon

*****

SPRING FLOWER

To know the rapture of an April flower
With sensuous sinews stretching in the sun,
To breathe her perfume for a breathless hour,
Behold as button-blossoms are undone
And petals open like an outstretched hand.

To trace those petals with a loverꞌs touch
That trembles at the beauty in its grasp,
While vibrant tendrils twine as tho to clutch
These wanton fingers in a tighter clasp
And bind my heart to beat at her command

To lose myself in meadow-blossom bliss,
As lips press petals in a fervent kiss.

-- Michael M. Pendragon

*****

On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:57:49 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > Start posting
>
> --------------------------------------------
>
> Time An Enemy
>
> Table set for two/one.
> You're sitting there but silent,
> aroma of a dish doesn't reach
> but the aroma of disdain
> fills the air.
>
> Same place the ice cream giggle
> and sticky lip kisses ended the night.
>
> Same place mail delivered and opened.
>
> "Look who sent us a card." I'd say
>
> No cards today, everyone catching the scent
> of dissolve.
>
> So we sit in silence playing with food
> like children pretending to eat.
>
> I did, now I don't,
> my tears rinse the dishes.
>
> Edward Rochester Esq.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1999

My mother died,
walking past the Hallmarks
and plastic wrapped flowers,
I’m reminded that 1999
was the last time I looked
for that funny card
or chocolate box.

No need now --
What was once a guilty chore.
is now an empty day.

You’re remembered,
dreamlike, as if you never happened --
time erases your pretty face and smile.

Happy Mother's Day.

Edward Rochester Esq.

PERCIPIENCE
It's the twilight of which wise men scry
for they have given half of their worldly sight
for enlightenment to shed some insight
on what the words upon the wall decry
~~Ash Wurthing

On Monday, May 15, 2023 at 5:22:43 AM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> PERCIPIENCE
> It's the twilight of which wise men scry
> for they have given half of their worldly sight
> for enlightenment to shed some insight
> on what the words upon the wall decry
> ~~Ash Wurthing

(revision to original)
PERCIPIENCE
It's the twilight of which wise men scry
for futility has dimmed their worldly sight
such a terrible price for enlightenment
to fruitlessly shed some insight
on what the writing on the wall decries
~~Ash Wurthing

On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> Start posting!

Photograph

Too freeze forever the random blink
half smile, or hair caught in a wind's desire --
you shudder in disbelief a shutter catching
the oddest moment when all that was desired,
was the perfect smile.

The camera eye captures the best or worse,
the child's anguished cry, the dog's odd exposure
or private moments, forever viewed
from the Oak mantel, all dated, archived moments
of life halted, warts and all, a voyeur Nikon,
dismissing perfection to present milli seconds
of candid life.

Edward Rochester Esq.

On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> Start posting!
------------------------------------------------------------

The Great Experiment

We cheer landing on Mars,
a small leap considering the vast universe --
not long ago over at Kitty Hawk
we cheered a short lift off the earth,
a determined struggle against
gravity that keeps our feet firmly planted
but rootless next to the Sequoia,
with its tangle of roots assuring
the stand against all odds.

Cement and brick seemed to be an answer
for that rise into clouds, though bombs
became the answer, leveling the field
of who dominates, wide open to discussion.

We marvel over the wonders of the world
our brains running on twenty percent, the rest
as barren as the great deserts where perish confronts
without a simple sip of water.

Our span remains at seventy/eighty years,
longer brings the onslaught of infections, disease,
bones becoming brittle, inhalation more a struggle
than easy reflex, but longevity beats a dog's ten/fifteen
years of wagging a tail and fetching the stick --
man’s best friend indeed.

We remain barbarians, produce implements
of slaughter, till death do us part stretching beyond
the altar and promise to love, honor, obey
to a faceless leader then a lawyer to dissolve
a union never meant to be.

Some make it to the golden years where prescriptions
await, labeled for ease of reaching the next year while all along
forests remain and floods remain, after the first experiment
of mankind died out with the brontosaurus and winged pterodactyl.

Mankind struggles at traffic lights, fights over
the freshest oranges, ques up at the box office, our heroes
mixing with popcorn and Dot candy but beware
there are those out there wanting your wallet, swinging
a blade after it buttered morning toast.

So, we landed on Mars, celebrate our short hop
into infinity, maybe enjoy a Mars bar we've eaten long ago
while trying to catch a glimpse of the flesh sitting
close by in the old Ford turned living room couch
or perhaps a star-lit bedroom on wheels.

Artificial Intelligence has always been, one quick peek
at nature can tell you that, celebrate your days but never think
mankind is at the top of the ladder, we still grunt for supper
no matter the fine linen, the gold chalice, for we still walk past
the tin cup, we still watch mayhem as the home run is swatted
out into left field -- Kitty Hawk once again before the bounce
back to earth.

Edward Rochester Esq.

(Have fun, Michael)

MAY

May comes to me with cherry blossom smile
While tufted titmice lift the voice in praise
Of one who walks in orchid-scented style
To warm my wintered heart with sun-gold days
And greengrass carpets soft as kittensꞌ fur.

She wends her way down winding country lanes
Where rhododendrons and wisteria vie
To crown her brow, while dandelion manes
Release their honeyed splendor to the sky
Beside a brook whose giddy waters purr

A joyful hymn, then glimmer on their way
Lost in the budded-wonder of the May.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

THE PIPES OF PAN
The pipes of pan blow soft across the glade
Like echoes from some long-forgotten time,
Their hollow chambers waft a serenade
Whose haunting strains float through the trees to climb
Above the clouds in search of ancient days.

I listen to the tune the piper plays
And feel my heartstrings tighten with each line,
Then tremble as my thoughts incarnadine
In memory of the lovemad satyrꞌs crime
That damned them both to play loveꞌs mournful tune.

A million miles away behind the moon
The ghost of Syrinx heaves her plaintive sigh,
I hear her in the piperꞌs tune and cry
For one Iꞌd loved, and lost, too soon… too soon…
And beg the gods that they might let me die.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

On Saturday, May 20, 2023 at 1:27:35 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> MAY
>
> May comes to me with cherry blossom smile
> While tufted titmice lift the voice in praise
> Of one who walks in orchid-scented style
> To warm my wintered heart with sun-gold days
> And greengrass carpets soft as kittensꞌ fur.
>
> She wends her way down winding country lanes
> Where rhododendrons and wisteria vie
> To crown her brow, while dandelion manes
> Release their honeyed splendor to the sky
> Beside a brook whose giddy waters purr
>
> A joyful hymn, then glimmer on their way
> Lost in the budded-wonder of the May.
>
> -- Michael Pendragon
>
> *****
>
> THE PIPES OF PAN
>
> The pipes of pan blow soft across the glade
> Like echoes from some long-forgotten time,
> Their hollow chambers waft a serenade
> Whose haunting strains float through the trees to climb
> Above the clouds in search of ancient days.
>
> I listen to the tune the piper plays
> And feel my heartstrings tighten with each line,
> Then tremble as my thoughts incarnadine
> In memory of the lovemad satyrꞌs crime
> That damned them both to play loveꞌs mournful tune.
>
> A million miles away behind the moon
> The ghost of Syrinx heaves her plaintive sigh,
> I hear her in the piperꞌs tune and cry
> For one Iꞌd loved, and lost, too soon… too soon…
> And beg the gods that they might let me die.
>
> -- Michael Pendragon
>
> *****
-------------------------------------------------

On Wednesday, May 17, 2023 at 3:51:50 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > Start posting!
> ------------------------------------------------------------
>
> The Great Experiment
>
>
> We cheer landing on Mars,
> a small leap considering the vast universe --
> not long ago over at Kitty Hawk
> we cheered a short lift off the earth,
> a determined struggle against
> gravity that keeps our feet firmly planted
> but rootless next to the Sequoia,
> with its tangle of roots assuring
> the stand against all odds.
>
> Cement and brick seemed to be an answer
> for that rise into clouds, though bombs
> became the answer, leveling the field
> of who dominates, wide open to discussion.
>
> We marvel over the wonders of the world
> our brains running on twenty percent, the rest
> as barren as the great deserts where perish confronts
> without a simple sip of water.
>
> Our span remains at seventy/eighty years,
> longer brings the onslaught of infections, disease,
> bones becoming brittle, inhalation more a struggle
> than easy reflex, but longevity beats a dog's ten/fifteen
> years of wagging a tail and fetching the stick --
> man’s best friend indeed.
>
> We remain barbarians, produce implements
> of slaughter, till death do us part stretching beyond
> the altar and promise to love, honor, obey
> to a faceless leader then a lawyer to dissolve
> a union never meant to be.
>
> Some make it to the golden years where prescriptions
> await, labeled for ease of reaching the next year while all along
> forests remain and floods remain, after the first experiment
> of mankind died out with the brontosaurus and winged pterodactyl.
>
> Mankind struggles at traffic lights, fights over
> the freshest oranges, ques up at the box office, our heroes
> mixing with popcorn and Dot candy but beware
> there are those out there wanting your wallet, swinging
> a blade after it buttered morning toast.
>
> So, we landed on Mars, celebrate our short hop
> into infinity, maybe enjoy a Mars bar we've eaten long ago
> while trying to catch a glimpse of the flesh sitting
> close by in the old Ford turned living room couch
> or perhaps a star-lit bedroom on wheels.
>
> Artificial Intelligence has always been, one quick peek
> at nature can tell you that, celebrate your days but never think
> mankind is at the top of the ladder, we still grunt for supper
> no matter the fine linen, the gold chalice, for we still walk past
> the tin cup, we still watch mayhem as the home run is swatted
> out into left field -- Kitty Hawk once again before the bounce
> back to earth.
>
> Edward Rochester Esq.
>
> (Have fun, Michael)
----------------------------------------------------

Silent Nights

You row against tides and wind --
steady is the struggle which becomes
filled with yesterday thoughts of
of neon, dance and dizzy,
no crown of thorns,
no burlap bag filled with fishes,
just a stumble over puddles
as the faithful look in wonder,
‘he walks on water’ they cry,
grabbing the garment pleading forgiveness,
but fooled they are
when neon calls again to the faithful
and the offering brings a cold one;
saved one more time, looking outside
stained glass windows of self-reflection,
while looking inside yellow cabs
filled with pretty angels stuck in traffic.

Edward Rochester Esq.

Practice
by NancyGene

He’s yesterday’s news, I told him that.
I gave my cruel speech then, tit for tat.

I’m better off now, I’m not star-crossed.
I’ll heal but remain, the girl who’s lost

All loves through misdeeds, but cannot lie--
It hurts less each time I say goodbye.

Here hope will be held nevermore
Here where dreams have gone to die
Mournful whispers and soulful sighs
Now merely echoes of memories forevermore
~~Ash Wurthing

THE MAY QUEEN

On May Day young girls wash with morning dew,
Twine primroses and gorseflowers in their hair,
To form a faerie court for one most fair --
The Maiden, flower bride, with eyes sky-blue
And cornsilk tresses bright as noontide sun.

They deck the trees with marigolds and shells
The wishing tree, the hawthorn, ash, and oak,
Leave milk and honey for the faerie folk
And Beltane cakes from where Cailleach dwells
In nightdark woods where Winter rivers run.

Then merry meet adown the mead
Where rowan vies with yarrow weed
To trim the Maidenꞌs gown;
Where Flora waits the Green Manꞌs smile,
May Eve, when Brightfire flames beguile
Her sky-blue eyes beneath her floral crown.

I wipe a teardrop from my eye
Remembering the Mays gone by
When love and I were young;
While peeking through the newborn night
The faeries tip-toe into sight
To whisper blessings in their Sylvan tongue.

Then ring-around the blazing fire
The damoisels and fays conspire
To battle with the moon,
While young men sing the Maidenꞌs praise
And pledge their troth till end of days
Then bind it with an ancient witching rune.

Then lo! The Green Man takes the May Queenꞌs hand
And leads her to her blossom covered throne;
He tells her of the hidden things, unknown
To all save bards of Oberonꞌs dark band
Who wrap their visions in a nightbound dream.

The moon and stars, hers to command
She bids her loyal subjects stand
And sets the pipes to play;
Then round about the Brightfire so
The skyclad dancers come and go
To welcome in the merry month of May.

Cloaked in my robe of midnight ꞌneath the stars
I watch the nightꞌs festivities alone,
For in my heart I know my May has flown
Like love songs from a gypsymanꞌs guitar
Lost in the echo of a candleꞌs beam.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> Start posting!
--------------------------------------------------------------

The Visit of Yesterday

Mom called and said he was dead
and I said, "That cannot be, I just talked to him"

"No, he's gone."

"But I just talked to him."

"Please come by."

Flashback:
a green garden turtle,
a small child's rake
but enough to pierce the shell
and his legs moved in slow motion,
one eye closed, the other
in a half close.

"He's dead", I thought,
from nothing more than a child's need
to hit.

"I'll be right over."

There he was, my father covered in white, dead.

We just had supper six hours ago
and we laughed about all the silly things
growing up.

I never did tell him I killed a turtle once,
with a silly child's rake.

He would have laughed it off, telling me of once killing men,
not turtles.

We never talked deep on realties,
death never entered the conversation --
always tucked somewhere inside.

I do know his father left the family
in his care, abandoned to a mere child.

My Grandfather ran, my father has now died.

He had taken what was offered and met the challenge.

I'll visit come spring, a new member
at Calverton.

Hopefully the turtle's soul is under the Forsythia
where I buried him, long ago.

Death is so final.

Edward Rochester Esq.

On Sunday, 21 May 2023 at 20:00:25 UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> THE MAY QUEEN
>
> On May Day young girls wash with morning dew,
> Twine primroses and gorseflowers in their hair,
> To form a faerie court for one most fair --
> The Maiden, flower bride, with eyes sky-blue
> And cornsilk tresses bright as noontide sun.
>
> They deck the trees with marigolds and shells
> The wishing tree, the hawthorn, ash, and oak,
> Leave milk and honey for the faerie folk
> And Beltane cakes from where Cailleach dwells
> In nightdark woods where Winter rivers run.
>
> Then merry meet adown the mead
> Where rowan vies with yarrow weed
> To trim the Maidenꞌs gown;
> Where Flora waits the Green Manꞌs smile,
> May Eve, when Brightfire flames beguile
> Her sky-blue eyes beneath her floral crown.
>
> I wipe a teardrop from my eye
> Remembering the Mays gone by
> When love and I were young;
> While peeking through the newborn night
> The faeries tip-toe into sight
> To whisper blessings in their Sylvan tongue.
>
> Then ring-around the blazing fire
> The damoisels and fays conspire
> To battle with the moon,
> While young men sing the Maidenꞌs praise
> And pledge their troth till end of days
> Then bind it with an ancient witching rune.
>
> Then lo! The Green Man takes the May Queenꞌs hand
> And leads her to her blossom covered throne;
> He tells her of the hidden things, unknown
> To all save bards of Oberonꞌs dark band
> Who wrap their visions in a nightbound dream.
>
> The moon and stars, hers to command
> She bids her loyal subjects stand
> And sets the pipes to play;
> Then round about the Brightfire so
> The skyclad dancers come and go
> To welcome in the merry month of May.
>
> Cloaked in my robe of midnight ꞌneath the stars
> I watch the nightꞌs festivities alone,
> For in my heart I know my May has flown
> Like love songs from a gypsymanꞌs guitar
> Lost in the echo of a candleꞌs beam.
>
> -- Michael Pendragon
>
> *****

Ilion
by NancyGene

Achilles won’t fight
Patroclus dons the armor
Don’t get dragged around

EPIPHANY

I watched a tiny beetle scuttle across
a bare patch in my lawn, only to disappear
into a ragged mound of weeds --
its greengold body glistening in the sun.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

NIGHT FOREST

Tonight the trees stare down at me,
gather around me,
herding me in
much like a frightened lamb.

Black silhouettes framed by a moonbright sky,
penumbral giants from the dawn of time,
primordial guardians of a hidden world --
their black eyes penetrate my secret thoughts.

They whisper my name with gentle, rustling sounds
Though all the winds are still.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

On Monday, 22 May 2023 at 06:47:26 UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> Ilion
> by NancyGene
>
> Achilles won’t fight
> Patroclus dons the armor
> Don’t get dragged around

On Saturday, 13 May 2023 at 20:21:13 UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:57:49 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> > On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > Start posting
> >
> > --------------------------------------------
> >
> > Time An Enemy
> >
> > Table set for two/one.
> > You're sitting there but silent,
> > aroma of a dish doesn't reach
> > but the aroma of disdain
> > fills the air.
> >
> > Same place the ice cream giggle
> > and sticky lip kisses ended the night.
> >
> > Same place mail delivered and opened.
> >
> > "Look who sent us a card." I'd say
> >
> > No cards today, everyone catching the scent
> > of dissolve.
> >
> > So we sit in silence playing with food
> > like children pretending to eat.
> >
> > I did, now I don't,
> > my tears rinse the dishes.
> >
> > Edward Rochester Esq.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
> 1999
>
>
> My mother died,
> walking past the Hallmarks
> and plastic wrapped flowers,
> I’m reminded that 1999
> was the last time I looked
> for that funny card
> or chocolate box.
>
> No need now --
> What was once a guilty chore.
> is now an empty day.
>
> You’re remembered,
> dreamlike, as if you never happened --
> time erases your pretty face and smile.
>
> Happy Mother's Day.
>
> Edward Rochester Esq.

On Thursday, 4 May 2023 at 21:57:49 UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > Start posting
>
> --------------------------------------------
>
> Time An Enemy
>
> Table set for two/one.
> You're sitting there but silent,
> aroma of a dish doesn't reach
> but the aroma of disdain
> fills the air.
>
> Same place the ice cream giggle
> and sticky lip kisses ended the night.
>
> Same place mail delivered and opened.
>
> "Look who sent us a card." I'd say
>
> No cards today, everyone catching the scent
> of dissolve.
>
> So we sit in silence playing with food
> like children pretending to eat.
>
> I did, now I don't,
> my tears rinse the dishes.
>
> Edward Rochester Esq.

On Saturday, 13 May 2023 at 20:21:13 UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:57:49 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> > On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > Start posting
> >
> > --------------------------------------------
> >
> > Time An Enemy
> >
> > Table set for two/one.
> > You're sitting there but silent,
> > aroma of a dish doesn't reach
> > but the aroma of disdain
> > fills the air.
> >
> > Same place the ice cream giggle
> > and sticky lip kisses ended the night.
> >
> > Same place mail delivered and opened.
> >
> > "Look who sent us a card." I'd say
> >
> > No cards today, everyone catching the scent
> > of dissolve.
> >
> > So we sit in silence playing with food
> > like children pretending to eat.
> >
> > I did, now I don't,
> > my tears rinse the dishes.
> >
> > Edward Rochester Esq.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
> 1999
>
>
> My mother died,
> walking past the Hallmarks
> and plastic wrapped flowers,
> I’m reminded that 1999
> was the last time I looked
> for that funny card
> or chocolate box.
>
> No need now --
> What was once a guilty chore.
> is now an empty day.
>
> You’re remembered,
> dreamlike, as if you never happened --
> time erases your pretty face and smile.
>
> Happy Mother's Day.
>
> Edward Rochester Esq.

On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> Start posting!
--------------------------------------------------------

Through the Days and Years

Today I went and washed off the humidity,
rinsed the mask, for tomorrow I still can’t
get a sandwich without covering half a face

Yesterday was Independence Day, finding ourselves
dependent on all wise words of those with charts
and swabs with added words from some, of forget all of that,
go frolic in the sea, gather as a swarm of gnats,
all will be well.

The line has been drawn down the middle of wisdom.

But hell, I’ve adjusted before, all my life, it seems,
letting out a notch in the belt, from school to drafted,
air raid drills diving under the desk and covering up,
hurricanes, school shootings, murder, mayhem,
assassinations, fatherhood, grandfather hood,
great grandfather hood, a mother and father’s inevitable goodbye,
all the things life can throw and now a virus that has altered
daily living throughout the world.

You say to yourself, ‘is it the end?’
but I said that when I had Poison Sumac,
when my art floated down the canal
to parts unknown, when my pneumonia killed
this past month of March and when I cried as youngsters
were killed sitting at their desks.

I’ve adjusted to the madness of the world
for there remains beauty in daybreak, flowers,
the seagull floating on air currents and poetry
where you can sit back and wander inside it all
with words.

If this is indeed the end, it has been one hell of a ride.

Edward Rochester Esq.

On Tuesday, May 23, 2023 at 9:27:12 PM UTC-4, Edward Rochester Esq. wrote:
> On Thursday, May 4, 2023 at 9:11:31 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > Start posting!
> --------------------------------------------------------
>
> Through the Days and Years
>
>
> Today I went and washed off the humidity,
> rinsed the mask, for tomorrow I still can’t
> get a sandwich without covering half a face
>
> Yesterday was Independence Day, finding ourselves
> dependent on all wise words of those with charts
> and swabs with added words from some, of forget all of that,
> go frolic in the sea, gather as a swarm of gnats,
> all will be well.
>
> The line has been drawn down the middle of wisdom.
>
> But hell, I’ve adjusted before, all my life, it seems,
> letting out a notch in the belt, from school to drafted,
> air raid drills diving under the desk and covering up,
> hurricanes, school shootings, murder, mayhem,
> assassinations, fatherhood, grandfather hood,
> great grandfather hood, a mother and father’s inevitable goodbye,
> all the things life can throw and now a virus that has altered
> daily living throughout the world.
>
> You say to yourself, ‘is it the end?’
> but I said that when I had Poison Sumac,
> when my art floated down the canal
> to parts unknown, when my pneumonia killed
> this past month of March and when I cried as youngsters
> were killed sitting at their desks.
>
> I’ve adjusted to the madness of the world
> for there remains beauty in daybreak, flowers,
> the seagull floating on air currents and poetry
> where you can sit back and wander inside it all
> with words.
>
> If this is indeed the end, it has been one hell of a ride.
>
> Edward Rochester Esq.
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Add Bleach to the Screams
 
I asked the attendant if I could pick up the dirty sheets
at three.

"The tears will be easy to remove, the blood, more difficult, 
the fetus, well that should be reported."

“Do you know where a dumpster is?”

“In the back of Stop and Shop.”

"Nice, I need bread and milk,
kill two birds with one stone."

Edward Rochester Esq.