May 1, 2016

why are the bigfoot considered Nephilim

'untitled', 1964 by Ralph Eugene Meatyard © 

this poem said 
God thought best 
they be lone pears 
left to spoil 
in a bowl 

with brushwork
sensation seeking 
ham fist-ed  
I stood 
in a doorway 
mirror worn  
thirty years 
of desperation 
into words 
disguised as 
hopeful thinking 

this has been 
a slow painted 
dis stilled life 
a seeping muddied 
almost blank canvas 
that asks the observer :
when did this wine turn 
black and white ...

it says 
pick a color 
to lens 
this sight 
and any seem 
ready to exit 
or fight 
the frame 

a mason jar is 
just off stage left 
waiting with lid 
to catch my last breath
as I take my leave here 
with not much else 
with no horse 
nor carriage 
nor contract 
of marriage broken 
but I am out of shape 
breathless and 
bending my feelings  
into possessions 
for empty pockets 
and these notebooks 
full of bad poems 

EJR © 


  1. This is so sad. I especially like, and am most disheartened by, the opening and closing.

    For the record, I've not seen a single bad poem here.

    1. Well you are kind in saying so ...

    2. I feel compelled to write them and I never think any very good so it is nice to hear otherwise from outside my own head ...

    3. I don't believe you for one second. And you deserve to be arrogant, should you desire to express yourself so.

    4. nah, not to my liking, no ma'am ...but occasionally I must admit I do feel rapturous when speaking the poem and some rhythm inside the words seeks and finds me to be a dance partner ...

    5. That's what gets me the most pumped about poetry ... the way it can become a tongue-dance when read aloud. Honestly, meaning is down the list of important factors for me. The beat, the way the words/syllables bump and grind, and strangeness/surprise ... those are my primary needs/concerns when it comes to poetry. I can always find/interpret/invent the characters and stories inside. But what I need a poet/writer to do for me is share his compulsion for playing with sound.