Category: Englyn

(Poem #187 on new numbering scheme)

That book about Malcolm X,
which I liked so much, connects
with a thing I read that talks
about love, which our world lacks.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #186 on new numbering scheme)

We look for ways to resist
entropy. We feel we must,
or else we risk at last
our own being being lost.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #185 on new numbering scheme)

Out between the apartments,
the kids spread their footprints
in the snow. At bat, he bunts;
the ball rolls; he slips; she taunts.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #184 on new numbering scheme)

The topology of clouds
conveys their unlikely needs.
Likewise, the feel of the words
in my mouth is changing moods.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #183 on new numbering scheme)

Like wet sand stuck in my mouth
the days bunch together with
broken rhythms and uncouth
echoes like stones off a path.

– an englyn proest dalgron
[daily log: walking, 1km]

(Poem #182 on new numbering scheme)

She gazes out from the past,
a queen or goddess, now lost.
Can we know better than dust
whether she maybe was missed?

– an englyn proest dalgron. This is about the Lady of Elche.

(Poem #181 on new numbering scheme)

I was finished with my brain.
It began to slow its spin
and spill out like a pale stain
from my skull into my phone.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #180 on new numbering scheme)

It was the near last twilight
of January. It let
fragments of cold and gold float
down, as if heaven forgot.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #179 on new numbering scheme)

Instead of snow, we got rain.
The streets outside are now clean.
The old snow's cleared and undone,
Snowflakes reduced to a line.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #178 on new numbering scheme)

The alligator was mad
'cause the rainbow monkey said,
"You're crazy and kinda bad!"
So he bit him on the head.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #177 on new numbering scheme)

The cold crawled along the ground,
creeping across without sound,
grasping at fragments it found, unfurling,
swirling slow, round and round.

– an englyn unodl crwca

(Poem #176 on new numbering scheme)

The monkey and the raven
contrived a fine plot, and then,
compelled by jealousy, ran
to steal the other beasts' fun.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #175 on new numbering scheme)

The sun had forsaken all,
having slipped down a deep well.
There were bad fish in that pool
that had stolen the sun's soul.

– an englyn proest dalgron

[daily log: walking 1km]

(Poem #174 on new numbering scheme)

It's so late... I stay awake.
Now and then, sleep fails to make
anything but a brief, fake appearance -
a short trance - no real break.

– an englyn unodl crwca

(Poem #173 on new numbering scheme)

I like snow in the winter,
but this dawn's fall seemed bitter,
like some song flung forth in fear
by a reluctant choir.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #172 on new numbering scheme)

The empty shell of the state, sold to fools;
its roads, rules, and dire fate
compiled for transition... wait...
no... as of now, it's too late.

– an englyn unodl union

(Poem #171 on new numbering scheme)

I write this on a small scrap
of paper, with a vague hope
that the words might develop
into a poem, then stop.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #170 on new numbering scheme)

Just a ways down the shore there,
the fell spirit of the air
descended, and met the fair
spirit of the deep water.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #169 on new numbering scheme)

I'm just really exhausted
this Monday evening. I had
six classes. For each, I stood
and talked. The kids sat and stared.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #168 on new numbering scheme)

You cannot escape the dust;
it marches through sunbeams, fast
settling on floors like ballast,
thus to sink life's ship at last.

– an englyn proest dalgron
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]

(Poem #167 on new numbering scheme)

The ghost is in the machine:
it thinks it's in there alone
and so it resolves to run,
looping, as long as it can.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #165 on new numbering scheme)

I've seen my mortality, face forward
squarely toward death's city,
at least three times; self pity
fell to something more witty.

– an englyn unodl union

(Poem #164 on new numbering scheme)

The sentences formed and flowed,
spilling forth, flowers in flood,
but still no one understood
the words - no real person could.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #163 on new numbering scheme)

The monkey met the raven
to talk about which option
they might choose to try to win
their war against the demon.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #162 on new numbering scheme)

I saw, stranded there, a leaf,
caught like a weak man's hand, half
on and half off a bookshelf,
as he fell, slain by her laugh.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #161 on new numbering scheme)

I saw a bug on the floor.
A cluster of dust or fur,
a small black machine or more,
weird, mysterious cypher.

– an englyn proest dalgron
[daily log: walking, 1km]

(Poem #160 on new numbering scheme)

I saw bits of wood arrayed
along the path's side, like dead
insects, or some bones, which could
come from some strange beast, though flawed.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #159 on new numbering scheme)

He layered brick upon brick,
creating a kind of fake
mountain up which he might walk,
plotting God's death at its peak.

– an englyn proest dalgron

(Poem #158 on new numbering scheme)

A semi-automatic
weapon, some semiotic
reasons, a panegyric to be said
to the dead. Terrific.

– an englyn unodl crwca

(Poem #157 on new numbering scheme)

Do the things that make you glad
despite the fact that you did
things undeniably bad...
you did them because you could.

– an englyn proest dalgron – apropos my posting earlier today, I guess, and tongue-in-cheek.

(Poem #156 on new numbering scheme)

The magpie cocked its head, then
paused to watch a leaf, began
to step into the strong sun -
a blue, black and white machine.

– an englyn proest dalgron