Fancy Free

When life doth air too serious
So weary I become
My notions turn nefarious
To whimsy, I succumb

I then proceed to longeth p’ruse
Mine Frederick’s catalogue
To sate my need for silken rouge
And frilly lace corsage

Of course they must be crotchless
Lest I err a thoughtless cad
And should I dare wend topless
Throw some pasties in the bag

With preference for tassels
‘Tis a hassle otherwise
I might start feeling sassy
Thus, such foresight would suffice

Ne’er I display such imprudence
Hence, I buy in bulk
For countless corsets have i torn
asunder with mine hulk

As proven on the eve
I wast locked out of mine own house
And all the poor old maidens
Swooned as if they’d seen a mouse!

Did grant, I may stand
Two inches just over six feet tall
With brawny build and buns that filleth
Panties with a sprawl

Which tend to draw the ire
Of the gentry’s night patrol
Who seem to never tire
Of cruising past me ever slow

Why then, would anyone
Blame a lad for simply trying
Were I to say I did not look
Hawt in lace I’d be lying!

And thou knowest quite well
This spectacle sings flourishing
Within the theater of thy mind
Where it is now showing

For none dare intermit
The thought of such a rogue delight
Frolicking in flowery peignoirs
All throughout the night

Realm of Influence

edging
ever closer

to the air

which will grant
my final breath

until then

i am
wedged

between this
untold boulder

and life
unfolding

Shades of Pompeii

somewhere
along this wayward
path

i lost
the sum
of you

in broken
buttons

crumpled
papers

whispers

faintly
promised

to reflections

we once
bared

scattered
over trails
capricious

memories
thread precious
pleas

plotting
their escape

like petty fools
from plighted faith

parched
from implore

upending
thoughts

would mark
the path

that led me
to your vested
heart

when vagrants
sought
the stars

and charted
the descending
hours

of our last
reverie

rapt
in such despair

’til all
that i could
see

were driftless
streaks
of blackness
stripped

amid
the grip
of shame

unearthed

where flashing
shades
of pompeii

stayed
in grim dispart

impressed
upon

the distant
sky
estranged

a world
apart

Male Primer On How To Love Women

To truly
Command
The acceptance
Of truth

With willful
Embrace
Of its burden
Of proof

And freedom
To think
With a presence
Of mind

Where no
Precedent
Lies
To boldly opine

Unfettered
Not tethered
To fear’s
Phantom mime

In weather
Tempestuous
Calming and kind

To choose
Paths shone
Virtuous
Of our
Volition

When faced
With the gravest
Of selfless
decisions

To look
Beyond
Boundaries
With sound
Sight
To see

Without our own
Ego’s affliction
We are free

To learn
From mistakes
We must bear
Consequence

Acknowledge
All factors
Of its circumstance

Whilst disregarding
Frivolous
Dalliance

And focusing
Efforts
On things
Relevant

To offer
Oneself
Without pretense
Surrendered

To harbor
No thought
Of contempt
Erring tender

Toward life
Which exists
Outside that
Of our own

Attending
The home
One should ne’er
Shore alone

To listen
So that we
Might then
Understand

The magnitude
Of all fates
Since wrought
By man

To requite
The status
Usurped
By frail men

That brazenly
Preaches
Of false
Creation

Casting such
Shadows
Whose ire
Knows
No bounds

The burden
All women
Are forced
To live
Down

For bearing
The gift
Men would
Deem to revere

Presented
Through patriarchs
Pandering fear

And once
Verity
Avails our
Conscious grasp

Our love
May be worthy
Of woman
At last

Rescue

Mister Ryan Kelton. My mentor of sorts with a fierce poet’s heart

The Poetry of Ryan Kelton

Rescue 2/6/15

At this distance, I cannot see
What there is to do for you—
No matter how loud the siren-sound,
No matter how quick my pace to your floor,
I know it shall be silence to greet me at the door.
You unravel a carpet of red from your hands;
The well-worn path I tread where the best-laid
Plans have been cast down as ash in the hollow halls.
Here I am—in the midst of the maze you have built to deflect me—
Still, I am drawn on towards you, stung on by intentions
More pure and true than the price you place on your shoulders.

View original post

Building Tide

Mister Shaun.

shaunterrywriter

Love on the Shore

I fantasize of everyday
rediscovering, of countless
moments in-between: observing you
in quiet, from afar, delighting
in intricate motions and in
uninhibited inquisitions. And my mind
wanders to imaginings of inspecting
you, using all
six senses, from the distance
of the length of my nose,
shutting my eyes, as thoughts
suspend themselves like hanging sloths,
while I count sloshes of
my paper-thin heart and listen to them
like waves, crashing into a
crimson shore—one that you
helped to build and nurse to totality.

And I want to tell you
that which my mouth
and words and phrases
couldn’t faithfully
express: the ways by which
you awaken
and invigorate the nondescript and
nascent, carving significance and
wonder from quiet, pedestrian
daily life.

I want to imbue you with the
sense-knowledges of
innumerable, immeasurable ways
by which I admire the youest you
and appreciate silent closenesses,
your soft and gentle glow that
perpetually molds my thoughts, feelings, and
outer and inner realities.

Wading…

View original post 36 more words

Hellacious Haircut

now what have you gone and done?
you look like hitler’s amish son
after some seasons in the sun
imprisoned by a neon nun
was it kirk’s phaser set to stun?
a vulcan nerve-pinch come undone?
it seems as though you might have plucked
a nerve and now this look is stuck
a lightning strike without the light
perhaps it was an eel bite
or maybe you just caught a fright
a camera may have flashed too bright
it’s possible a roving pack
of rabid dogs advanced attack

a full-grown horde of starving hogs
mistook you for their feeding trough
and truly, i would understand
if your barber was from japan
or if he had a demon hand
entangled in a rubberband
oh, i know! this is all a joke
like on some hidden camera show
AHA! you must have lit a cig
using a bargain lighter rig
oh shoot… my bad, is that a wig
did someone zag who should have zigged

are you on drugs, that must be it
take my advice friend, try to quit
unless you fell into a pit
of ninjas throwing hissy-fits
who knows, break-dancing gone awry
you thought you were a samurai
or were you stressed under duress?
was this your mother’s last request?
could you have donated your locks?
gone undercover for the cops?
if you stopped caring i can tell
they DO have barbershops in hell!
you lost a bet and now you’ve paid
you did it so you could get laid
a camel-spider went to town
you got it at the lost & found
you snuggled with a hirsute rat
then got mauled by a shedding cat
your headbanging took a wrong turn
you left edward scissorhands spurned
the rest of you is somewhere else
you did it for your ailing health
you could have just rubbed a balloon
til so much static-cling ensued
you’re going to make me walk the plank
come on! admit! it’s just a prank

wait, what was that i heard you say?
this here is what’s in style today

why, ~silly me~, i should have known
next time i’ll just leave you alone
(cuz zombies must have eaten your brains)
proceeds to walk the other way

End of Deus

stifled

by the sound
of words
preserved

perched
in a madman’s
hallucination

of halcyon days

ere hope
had wintered
this vale

velleity
vanquished
its ceremony

in sermon
rescinded
from restive
err

 

 

[photo: Art Redwing & Alberta Kelm]

“Choices”

no woman chooses.

the word “choice”
is a quaint affectation
of male privilege

one that shifts
the burden
onto the woman’s shoulders

with a simple
single syllable
of sinister
silver-tongue

that speaks volumes
of the depraved disconnect
of daddy’s deflection

defecting

neglecting

such wretched
subjection

to misogynist mindsets
that fret
at any hint
shown to impede
its quest for glory

its aweless reverie

of his requisite bequest

that rests for no burden
not even those wrought
by its own wanton hands

with nary a thought

for the “choice”
lies with man

to own up to his deeds
to reap what was sown
beyond his own base needs

choosing not to desert
to then foster a trust
that would honor what is just

by accepting
the circumstance born
of his lust

he must stand tall supinely
to shatter all doubt
in the matters regarding
the wrath of his route

for women most oft
are forever distraught

abandoned
bereft
left exploited
with naught

whilst these men prance
with ease
frolicking fancy-free
fleeing scene
with the breeze
having sown their ill-seed

for their ego
surpasses all
with such vomitous gall
as a life is forestalled

ne’er to answer the call
so appalling this trait
leaving life in its wake
only flight will he take
once his whim has been slaked
without further adieu
in a cloud of hot dust
and a fervid salute
served most proud and abrupt
rendering hearts nonplussed
like a billowing gust
once his will has been thrust
turns militantly brusque
with such fierce flippancy
throws all under the bus
in a thunderous peal
it’s a wonder surreal
as the moment reveals
what his true heart conceals

but there is no appeal
to that which cannot feel
so this dastardly deal
is so masterfully sealed
as a bastard is reared
in a fluster of tears
with a father not there
never bothered to care
not a moment to spare
to prevent all the fears
wrought by scrutinous stares
lurid thoughts turpid lots
from a surrogate’s leer
innocence left defenseless
for reasons so senseless
a treasonous pretense
to heathens demented

still lacking incentive
to try to prevent this
fate of such portending
consequence unending
of futures surrendered
no suture could mend
ill-repute so contentious
yet still men dispute
and refute their subjection
and all for the sake
of their putrid compulsions
so duly revulsing
profanely effusive
the lives left behind
are not those
which they must live
and thus it is a shit
for which they do not give
so willing to forfeit
the world they created
but for a mere moment
of fleeting amusement
that spurns an entire
existence
so uselessly
suffered for naught
and for what
but their ego’s
egregious gestalt

Another Day

another day

another chance
to wallow
in this hollow
fetid shell

another dance
amid the fallout
of this self
constructed hell

forever burdened
by this curse
immersed in faded
aquarelle

ever is this
burgeoning dearth
fated
until i am
felled