When Machines Mend

Posted in One Shoot, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , , , , on June 4, 2011 by dustus

photo by Rob Hanson

Forgetting, over hours
Details under interrogating fluoresence
When machines mend
This antique Elizabethport Singer
Will bind sturdy seams again
Holes in ripped jeans
An old weblos patch
Then I’ll pay the pub a visit
Talking over 2 buck drafts
Pouring to home; a smile basks
Planning new tapestries
The artist tips his frosty glass

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When Machines Mend reading…
The above poem was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. Rob Hanson took the fantastic HDR photo.  Today he is interviewed over at One Stop Poetry.

Claustrophobic Rut

Posted in One Shoot, One Stop Poetry, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 28, 2011 by dustus

Is it crazy to tell off the sky?
Shake your fist at the clouds moving by
Pin your yourself down for 1-2-3
Past vice built walls
Over mountain misting seas

There is no elevator to heaven
Maybe a sandwich break
Thought escalation
Thinking through bodily sensation
Left eye twitching
When most alone
By myself
Returning home

Lightening at sunset
A cigarette in spring rain
Dog tired and alive
Already I have changed

Fear falling free
The worst of it is me
Self-made peace
Self-respect beyond grief
Seeking a spacious garden
Destination reached
Not the channel alley
Asphalt valley
Where cover’s steam
Below drowning aqueducts
Sewer rats, healing cuts
Fresh air I breath
And dream
To leave
This claustrophobic rut
Hitting bricks
Working out my luck

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Care to hear me read Claustrophobic Rut?
The above poem was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. Scott Wyden took the amazing photo. Outstanding lines and composition. He is the interviewee today over at One Stop Poetry.

Time Shared

Posted in One Shoot, One Stop Poetry, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , , , on May 14, 2011 by dustus


Once uncertain feels distance
Abysmal, lovelorn mist fraught
Lonely, lowly, sinking, hold me
Never let me go through temporoparietal injunctions
Mental storms fog, shoveled death beds
Where dropped flowers lay
White roses arise
Stemming from paralysis
Dirt strewn among the blushing clay
My heart strains when I miss your face
And dying cares to slow this pace…

Coiling off—farewell acceptance
Trailing back to DNA
Our bench boat warmer
Because what can’t be
Provisional learned lies, profit sized
Unamended changing ties
Fooled cause, your training wheels
Blister heals as pinwheels turn
Broken seals, clubbed line
Derivatives at brunch time
Reflecting our liquid mirrors
Iced to stone
Served with sprinkles
Scooped into cones
Leave it to Beaver

Scintillating, this mantle drifts
Aligning skull bones, in lit fused
Cosigning algorithmic, beta, fish
Over billowing horsey rides
Starfish grow limbs throughout the night
Beneath day, a cross of sand
Beyond smoldering spreads of “muster seed”
There’s us again—each grain a second
Forgetting me; not to mind
Whispering suspensions
As you turn down
Lost lanes
Plush pillow spreads
No carousel exile
Arcade revolving
Cranks carnival tunes
Crackling vitriolic, ultrasonic
Soundtracks stamp eternity
Doffing fedoras from origamic newspapers
Placebos in your Coke and wafers
Kindness never asked for favors
Running red lights
She howled in labor

As the morphine drips…
Sandy seconds ensconce frail wonder
Tick-drops, bleating thunder
What’s that again?
Wind chimes entangle
Shearing sheep
Cat tail run
Under rocking chair
Comp-bleat
Pinched ivy vines
Rusted watering cans
Dreg coffee grinds
Fresh sheets billow country laundry lines
Detergent to the blacklighting moon
Humid swelling summer nights
Her leg sways in sundress, to bluegrass
Mandolins, banjo picked
Lip-licked, swing pushed
Reality over Everest
I was there
Few lines measure
Tenderness until buried
Treasure, missed
Open chest
Blood and grist

Unobserved en masse
Before holding back, your hair
Only time hearing swears
Supplicant before porcelain
Cold compress to forehead
Throw rugs and beach blankets
Combating hypothermia
False alarms, miscarriage
Like our sea this afterbirth
Brine stew, circuit breaks
Welding sparks
Riding bikes
Dream built
For two that is
Really one—what a deal!
Once knowing love
Recounting us
Experience proves
Unquestioned trust

Carry on this being
Your certain return
Recalls warm new eyes
An apocalypse of pupils
Blinking bulbs of feeling was
When our children first called me
Daddy, it was their mother’s garden
Were Lilith tended floral bloom
Aching through time
Without possession
We are nothing
Except for another’s memory
Reality being what disintegrates
Crumbling into liver splotches
Broken time pieces
Tears watering hospital lots
Cracked windows
Unwound watches
Among the oil stained stalls
Past vacation spots
Means to end
Holding hands
Beauty, I could
Feel you
Hoping not to
Pass alone
Or go
Home, emotions swell
Of principled uncertainty
Vibrations, atomic energy
Coded bones, human genome
Stemming from cells
Imprisoned wake
This naked room
Accredited mistakes
Leading to continue…

Fumbling amid the apathy
Blinded by universal surrender, fate
Overlook, pathology
Born back into dreams of oblivion
Among the hints that banish afterlife
Finding each other
Lost from age
Yet closer through time shared
Existing until the end of our days

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Would you like to hear me read my poem?

*The above photograph is courtesy of UK photographer & friend Fee Easton. Fee returns to One Stop Poetry for a second time. Her photos comprise today’s One Shoot Sunday Picture Prompt challenge.

Fee also lent me the photo prompts for my triolet called A Golden Scheme, Dying Requests, and a recent poem called In Love Again.

Birdside View – #FlashFiction

Posted in Flash Fiction with tags , , , , , , , , on May 12, 2011 by dustus


I’m pleading: “Dude… Let it go.”

…Waitress delivers shots, shakers, lime wedges, perspiring Coronas.

“Nope. Gonna buy that white house next door. Paint a Godzilla-sized middle finger on the side. Let her admire that every time she sprinkles her prize petunias.”

“Umm… that’s extremely juvenile.”

“Yep,” he belches. “But it’s good you’re finally laughing, Bro.”

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Care for a Flash55 Reading?

(Microfiction in 55 words)

Because She’ll Sing

Posted in One Stop Poetry, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , on May 10, 2011 by dustus

Because she’ll sing when I come near
Our love song changing both our lives
Flesh shone in tone; alights night skies
Bare arms entwine absorbing tears

While reconciling faith sincere
Once Triton trumpets, giants fly
Because she’ll sing when I come near
Our love song changing both our lives

When music’s made beyond tide shared
Sound locking eyes, our present time
Seashell echo; two gulls swoon high
I’ll give far more than wading cares
Because she’ll sing when I come near


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Would you like to hear me read this Rondel?

*click here for explanations of the form

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One Shot Wednesday (Week 45)
@ One Stop Poetry
Host: this week the honor goes to
One of my favorite poets…
Gay Cannon

In Love Again

Posted in One Stop Poetry, Poetry Reading with tags , , , , , , , , on May 3, 2011 by dustus

I’d give anything to laugh, my friend
Feel new life in love again
Pluck bluebells for your bouquet
Smell May flowers as we lay

Upon spread quilt, mid-afternoon
Wind song plays inspired tunes
Her hands caress away iced pain
Under cherry blossom rain

And as we cling like shaking leaves
Our journeys end with sharing peace
In love again, this breathing bliss
There is no time lost while we kiss

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Would you like to hear me read my poem?


*Photograph is courtesy of UK photographer Fee Easton.  There will be a special One Stop Poetry Picture Prompt Challenge based on her photography on May 14th. Stay tuned.

Private Sandman – #FlashFiction

Posted in Flash Fiction, One Shoot, One Stop Poetry with tags , , , , , , , on April 30, 2011 by dustus

Squad radio D.O.A, our unit maneuvers into position—digging the left flank. Sandbags, Sarin-gassing;  flesh of women and children burst shielding salvos. “We’re outnumbered, Sarge!”  Hellfire overrunning our battalion. “Retreat!” Full-scale mortar rounds; Nighthawks laying bombs. As I suffocate under sand, readying to pull that goddamn ring-pin when deafening alarm blare delivers me from self-destruction.

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Care to hear me read these 55 Words?
The Above Flash55 was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge.  Rose Frei took the beautiful photo. She is the interviewee today (courtesy of Chris G.) over at One Stop Poetry. Check it out!