but aren't they all random?



A Pocketful of Poesy was a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog* up until the great derail of 2013. The impossibly-high standard of quality proved impractical to keep up, without a book deal. But don't take my word for it: click RANDOM and judge for yourself! And feel free to offer your critique.
*based on poem rate for calendar years 2009-2012. Also, kidding about the book deal.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Resolution.

Its 2am tonight.
I shall walk in light,
and fear
No evil except
That which rears
It's ugly

head.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Way Too Much Chardonnay

I been a pretty good old boy.
Knocking back my whisky shots.
Drinking kerrs and buh with joy
- well, what more do we need or got?
But then I met this lady, friend
- she says I'm quite the gentleman.
I'm used to having things my way,
but I'm trying more of hers each day, I drink

Way too much chardonnay!
We share a taste in finer wine
- I usually go about 5.99
and she's a thirty dollar a bottle girl,
we drink way too much chardonnay!
Try to cut back, but there ain't no hope.
I can't get enough of that butter, and
she needs a whooole lot of oak,
We drink way too much chardonnay

My friends have seen the change in me.
They give me grief, but I'm happy.
And even those who call me "punk"
admit I'm such a nicer drunk.
This wine brings out sincerity,
with notes of truth and clarity?
And finishes with just a hint -
that I'm getting way too deep in it, I drink

Way too much chardonnay!
We share a taste in finer wine
- I usually go about 5.99
and she's a thirty dollar a bottle girl,
we drink way too much chardonnay!
Try to cut back, but there ain't no hope.
I can't get enough of that butter, and
she needs a whooole lot of oak,
We drink way too much chardonnay

Now my friends are starting in
on this and that pinot and zin.
They're talking all that wine-snob talk,
and telling me to step it up!
Well I don't mean to push my snoot
into whatever you call fruit.
You can go as red you like, I'm not ashamed
to be so white, I drink

Way too much chardonnay!
We share a taste in finer wine
- I usually go about 5.99
and she's a thirty dollar a bottle girl,
we drink way too much chardonnay!
Try to cut back, but there ain't no hope.
I can't get enough of that butter, and
she needs a whooole lot of oak,
We drink way too much chardonnay

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

day shift


All my dreams gave notice
and quit. It's empty
on the factory floor each night,
no magic to make or supervise.
But in the day, those dreams come by. Disheveled, ghastly in the light,
they grouse a bit and beg for change.
I tell them, please! Come back to work!
I'd be so glad to take you back. You played
so well by dim limelight. By daylight,
you're simply not believable. They
look at me strange, as if I came
from a world that had lost its soul,
its shadow, its reflection and gone
looking for it in theirs. But I'm sure
it was the other way round

Monday, August 18, 2014

"Afoot"

The game is afoot,
And two feet make a stance
But 2 geniuses form
Into one Latin plural
with wishes to grant
that break open bottles
And fire up smoke -
So we think,

And we plan,

And we rub

And we hope.

"Highway 9"

Highway Nine at night:
driving through a grove.
All the leaves came gathering
to see trees take off clothes;
darkness comes in close
To settle in your eyes
as the sun goes hiding, we
go seeking faerie lights, I

hit the road and drive that stick
just roll on up and down with it,
you witch the road with spells that stick,
then roll up high and fly with it
we hug the road with wheels that stick
then roll around and curve with it,
we pick the road through sacred grove
then pull aside and hide
in it,


for I am hid in you
and you are here in me
and anyone would know
it's hid for all to see
the darkness comes in close
to settle in your gaze
your fair hair's electric gold
can't hide your darkest ways, hey

witch the road with spells that stick,
then roll up high and fly with it
I pick the road and drive that stick
then roll on up and down with it,
we hug the road with wheels that stick
roll all around and curve with it,
we pick the road through sacred grove
then pull aside and hide in it,
a bit

we fit
into this place
we run
down paths by leaves, erased
and find ourselves
in fairy ring
cathedral, chased
in stained-glass dust,
hung in moonbeams
just for us, just
for us, just
for us,
just

take the road that goes on high, then
pull in someplace sanctified
chase the road that goes in deep, then
get lost on your own four feet
feel yourself sprout angel wings
and fur and hair and claws and things
ride the road to stars and sky
then tumble out and let things lie

Highway Nine at night:
drive in through a grove.
All the leaves came gathering
to see trees take off clothes;
darkness comes in close
unsettling your lies
Your fair hair can't cover up
the darkness in my eyes, I

hit the road.

Friday, August 08, 2014

Make ready.

Time

To make ready for
tomorrow.But

I haven't had today yet!

benedicted.

I'm not flirting with the world. Just death!
If you please, I will take it lying down;
Standing fast. On my knees? Pray
To god. In my eyes, arteries, or
Pores. Give
Me more than I can take,
'cause I can't take

More.

Tuesday, August 05, 2014

"Stone Dry"

I go out talking every night
and talking's thirsty work
I don't need a drink,
I just like to whistle.
So whet
yourself
On this stone

You can't squeeze a drop of blood
from a man alone,
I go out talking every night
Talking's thirsty work
I don't need a drink
I just love to whistle

In the dark
In the dark
I just

Put my lips together, and I

and I

I suck.