A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

Try the RANDOM button, to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.

*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.

but aren't they all random?

Monday, March 31, 2014

tat too

This tattoo is sweet: left full sleeve,
an interlocked design of lightning
and clouds in whites,
and golds,
right full sleeve a contrasting design
in greens with white accents, bright
reds and dark browns: flaming rocks
(meteors, essentially), crashing
into white-crested Japanese waves! Upon my
upper back?

A bat-winged snake-dragon with curving horns!
His tail trailing in a sinuous line
down along and to each side
of my spine; across my upper torso
a golden-furred, eagle-winged snake
-dragon with a stained-glass halo.

He would have a golden crown. I have

the artist already on board. Hand-picked
on a recommendation (I was lucky
enough to get to see some of his handiwork
- which I LOVED), also I have
an undertaker lined up who owes me
a favor. She's on board with a living will
and a signed waiver, and she swears

as long as we wait two (2) days

before the artist starts, there will be
no redness or swelling at all. Which means
we are go for closed-casket,
- closed glass-casket -
and a shirtless burial. The casket
should rotate.

I'd be strapped in.

What do you think? What's
your stance on leather pants?

So why do you still?

So why do you still want me to
any of the things you want me to?

Yes, I have to accept that "because
it's fun," works as an answer. But

a gleaming sharp hook through the heart
is fun? Or is it just fun to watch? Maybe
the same thing isn't the same between

us. Could be it could be less fun for me
than it is for you. I mean, I know,

it's my fault and my lookout to draw the line
anywhere I don't want to go, so you

can jump across it. And it's my call to catch,
if you do - but why do you? And why do you
want to?

If I knew,

then I could decide
whether I still want to,

Friday, March 21, 2014

dreams, princess

G'night sweet

princess, tonight may you dream
on a dimpled bed of one hundred identical
chinese silk pillows, each
dream-soft, well-deep on the face-side,
bordered in a rich brocade of a thousand bright and pale
shades of white, and pebbled
on the cool side,
in a rich, shining perfect
cobblestone finish of large,
persian pearls. What strange pillows

in your bed.

Baroque; luxury without any sense to it - but
I say, sometimes
form doesn't need to follow function
to function. Sometimes form,
form...sometimes we

may need to sink deep into the beauty of forms,
and the beauty of a form
for its own sake, in order that we
may awake, and function

by a blessed simplicity not found outside
of the dream we forgot to write down,
but that has had us blushing
with a smile ever since.
Whatever it was,

Tuesday, March 18, 2014


The sun's hot,
and it beats down on the pines
who open up the gaps in their knotty bark, and

breathe out sap

in preparation for Summer.