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NaPoWriMo 3

April 9, 2014

National Poetry Writing Month 2014Hi. I’m winsomely handsome and I have some attractive photos of myself in exotic locations around the world.  I make my money by just goofin’ around, being cool, playing music and mixing with attractive and glamorous people.  And you can to! Just by following my blog, you know, no pressure.  That way you can get to see all the laid back stuff I do and have fun just by being associated with me. Amazing or what!

What the Frack?  I’d forgotten about those blogs. It’s like being virtually mugged by these two:











Of course you can all be my friends and follow my blog, but I have a negative reaction to any person ‘jus lettin me know’ how I might improve my life, no matter how amazing the rewards and how attractive the dummy in the shop window is.

I could go on, but I’ve said my piece. That plus I’ve bruised my fingertips hitting the keys!  All of which has nothing to do with today’s poem.  Or rather this belated post due to my ongoing technology confustatibulations.



After you depart

a swirling force

of injured angry indignation

the Sun briefly pierces the

rain clotted sky

lighting the  infurious dust

frenziedly dancing

animistic memory of the slammed door


The absence of noise

ringing in my ears

acute counterpoint

to what went before

voices, door, silence, spent.


but in this achromatic moment

light arrives.





From → Poetry

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