dilettante-ism
splattered rabbit
early a.m.
remnant scarlet
on the double yellow line
inside out
pulseless in a heartbeat
Goodyear revolution
of whitewall rubber
triple ply tread
sporting a brand new snazzy
zig zag pelt
bunny coat
back...
Because the moon
Because the moon
has no place to rest
she drifts in endless circles
constantly shedding
the memory of herself
to forge through darkness
brave night’s silence
endure the stars.
The revolutionist
hunted down
they found him in an open field
riddled with scraps of poetry
half thought out verse
set in awkward measure
broken mouth
dammed with thwarted doves
fingers crushed
stained with...
dreamed tao of bees
raptured in bees
that do not sting
flying within their kinetic drone
circumference of apian light
I am nectar in each leg pouch
adorned with bees
that croon green ascension
floating...
from innocence
oh memory
childhood illusion
behind what synapse
the aroma of smoldering autumn fire
suburban side roads
softly gauzed in smoky light
children’s saturday voices
rising from yards
family raked
weekend chored to
the status...
the light whose darkness is light
sweltering August afternoon
Rene Lazare
bare foot, bare chested
in a leather smock
tied over ragged jeans
feverishly manipulates pigments
bent over an old barn’s floor
mixing tube squeezed oils
pressing and...
buddha of illusion
I have given in to its acute resolve
no longer question
the manner in which it falls
lays away from light
carries darkness regally
unperturbed
non apologetic…
ever defying the sun
sewn...
the fifth horseman
darkness rides itself
wrapped in an empty cloak
on the back of a frothing stallion
mouthing phantom malice
without a rider to give it voice
soulless
searching for someone new
to...
on ice
it’s difficult to know exactly
how many of them are gone
but the percentage is high
not the one’s who’ve lost their way
the fallen down, mis-directed
temporarily out...
promise
swirling banner
wind whipped
color coded
a field of stars
a row of stripes
remembering when
freedom
found a country
to plant its perfect flag upon
made a promise
we pledge with our hearts
to...
The crushed cup (Sen no Rikyu, 1522-1591)
after a final sip
the master crushed his favorite cup
bid each honored guest farewell
retreated to the garden
to rend from flesh
undying essence
sever the shadow
of the moon...
Neil Brosnan
Born on Long Island, N.Y. went to a couple of different colleges; hitch-hiked around Europe got thrown out of Ireland; worked in a mental...
the dream
last night, Rimbaud
as the dream dogs howled
you tripped on my creased pillow
broke in a hundred poems
across the floor
cobalt hued…
ocher, turquoise, vermillion glass
glowing under moonlight’s...
liberation
the manual said
so simple now even a housewife can do it.
Fantastic, I thought.
Let her.
***
BY NEIL BROSNAN: liberation
