Category: Nonnet

ㅁ
and then when things start going badly
you start to imagine worse things
a grim acceleration
towards doom and despair
with gnashing of teeth
spiteful rages
burn it all
to the
ground

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
Women-fearing fetus-worshippers
arose and took over the church;
this heresy spawned others:
they lay down with mammon,
disrespected laws,
bore false witness,
distrusted
children,
lied.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I've lived in third world countries, before.
Places corrupt, falling apart,
and where the social contract
doesn't work very well.
So on that viewpoint,
I've changed countries,
not having
to leave
home.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I spotted a spider on the wall.
"Hey smol spider, what's going on?"
In my mind's eye, it looked back,
and said, "I have no clue!
I'm jus' walking here,
and some giant
annoys me,
asking
stuff."

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
Seven pieces of ice floated by,
out there on the fiordy sea's arm.
Seems they'd been liberated
from the racing river
that seethes at the head
of our small bay,
fleeing down,
seaward,
free.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I just had a strange dream (or nightmare):
I was looking for some chopsticks.
I committed many crimes:
breaking and entering
deception and fraud
ransoming folks.
In the end,
I found
none.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I have a kind of hypothesis:
our slow descent into madness
begins with ill-managed rage.
Anger is turned inward
and gnaws on the brain.
Pathways are wrought
or broken.
No good's
left.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I think that if I wasn't bound here
by confucian obligation
(I speak slightly tongue-in-cheek) -
if I was without ties -
I'd once again move
off overseas
to somewhere
with rules,
calm.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
In mid-winter the mice become bold.
One was on our kitchen counter.
She met my eyes and pondered
this territorial
invasion witnessed.
"Please leave me now,"
she implored,
"to my
crumbs."

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I have been sleeping badly these days.
At two AM I jolt awake,
and dreams scatter like stray cats.
Then I remain alert
for an hour or two.
The dreams creep back,
nestle close,
demand
time.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
These antipodean roosters crow
(anticipate the rising sun),
just the same as those back home.
Here, wallabies listen
(I have to assume).
Whereas it's bears
who hear them
(maybe),
there.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
"Dwight was NOT a nice man," she declared.
It burst up through her dementia,
a complete non sequitur.
"Such a horrible man."
Dwight was her father - 
my grandfather.
Long ago
he'd done
wrong.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
Of course the birds make strange noises, here...
like in some Hollywood jungle.
And the wallabies watch you.
They seem quite uncertain.
The driveway is rough,
with giant humps.
I walk down,
alone.
Dusk.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I start my poems with too many words.
A jumble of semantic cruft.
In need of painful trimming.
Gradually, I cut.
They fall down, broken.
Bits of meaning,
discarded.
What's left?
Noun.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I start awake to a sudden sound.
Well, rather, the sound's memory...
the sound was a dreamed event.
Still, it made me sit up.
Awake, in moonlight.
What kind of sound?
A plonking.
Unknown
cause.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
We need to discuss the roadside grass,
that grows beside my daily drive.
The grass seems unimportant:
green, perhaps non-native.
But as winter comes,
with heavy rains,
it turns gold,
flaxen,
pale.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
The economy can keep growing,
even if we run out of stuff.
Like a currency unit
in, e.g., Zimbabwe,
it is unbounded.
Reality
a canvas
for our
hopes.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
Really I'm just an alien here.
The people gathered around me
are remote, unknowable.
But they all feel the same.
At least, I guess so.
They, too, wonder:
what is this?
Why here?
Now?

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
The world constructed an architect,
placed her beside other beings,
awaited her creations.
Fantastic towers rose,
and deep labyrinths,
were then inscribed
in waiting,
empty
fields.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I knew this trip would prove difficult - 
meaning, on emotional terms.
As a trip, it's relaxing.
But Arthur's dementia
is now foregrounded
by circumstance.
Denial
becomes
hard.

– a nonnnet.

ㅁ
I prefer well-managed ignorance,
all tame and cooperative.
The rebel stupidity
is really hard to bear.
It's harder to care.
Revolution:
nerve-wracking
anger,
fear.

– a nonnet.

#Poetry #Nonnet

ㅁ
The fa is over - now we face fo.
Which is to say, simply: fa, fo.
Or, having fa'ed, now we fo.
It's like a litte song.
One group sings the fa;
the chorus, fo.
Back and forth.
Fa. Fo.
Fuh.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
of course it's only my opinion
fear-the-other trumps compassion 
ignorance's bliss tastes best
let's all catastrophize
freedom weighs too much
as a hermit
i retreat 
pile up
stones

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
nights
surpass
the dull days...
elegiac,
oneiric transits
across stochastic space,
full of windings, ergodic
retrogressions into instants
that fade like aimless bursts of color

– a reverse nonnet.

ㅁ
Fall is the season when mice sneak in.
The temperatures drop, outside.
Everything gets rained on.
Summer's berries are gone.
The warm house beckons.
What's not to like?
Some crumbs left.
It seems...
Safe?

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
Assertions of luminosity:
the moon proffers her axioms.
To wit: autumnal changes,
after the equinox,
include stormy gales,
driving downpours,
lost rainbows,
blowing 
leaves.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
the sneaky snake entered the garden
hopped up on his self-deceptions
like a chatbot on prozac
and gave his wanton pitch
elevator-style
to the kids there
this one girl
succumbed
crashed

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I made secret, unknowable poems.
Crafted with pure banalities,
they occupied remote screens,
distant from daily life.
These were words for fate:
disquisitions
against time;
perfect
rants.

– a nonnet.

ㅁ
I dreamed that Arthur became possessed
by some remodeling demon.
So while I was gone at work,
He began adding things -
random additions -
to his odd house:
stray basements,
towers,
leaks.

– a nonnet.