Bowler

the man stopped us

with a creased palm

framing his face

was a floppy

hat battered

ageless the

kind of hat you’d

find on the titanic

worn by bilge pumpers

as they fought with

panic rising – wet

the color of a blackened sea

this man, this

relic of olden times,

cracked

a toothy smile wished

us a good morning

Ging

(Sorry about missing last night - it's been a bit of a rough week and I fell asleep!)

My dog and I
are two of a pair,
my mousey brown,
her golden hair -
or fur, I mean (that's
her, not me)
And then there's
how we both like trees.
Me the green, the
freshness and peace -
her to urinate and
mark her place.
We love affection,
scratches and kisses.
On many occasions
we're referred to as bitches.

(needs more but I ran out of inspiration)

Negative

No one writes about
falling out of love
the drift - continental
masses edging apart
It takes less work to
watch than trying
to push two fractured
souls back together.

No one writes about that

No one writes about
losing your soul mate
one bickering argument
at at time - pieces
nibbled away until
only a shell remains.

No one writes about that

No one writes about
the slow loss, the
bleed, drip drip drip
as your dreams are
pushed aside and
you melt away
until nothing remains.

No one writes about that.

Disclosure...hmmmm

While I did find the premise of Disclosure of interest, I don't really see how it fits into the Poetry genre, unless one is to look at each page as a line as part of one poem? It struck me as a sort of archaeological experiment - unsheathing each single piece of evidence to paint a picture of a person.

I enjoyed some of the juxtapositions of pieces - a job rejection letter from 2004 next to a certificate of award for a golf program in 1976, or an award of $900 next to a tick-ridden lab report. It reminded me that, as a child, our accomplishments seem like such enormous events - but in reality they are nearly always of little or no consequence in the broader scheme of life. It also made me realize how much what we do in life is controlled by others - jobs, vacations, houses, purchases, etc.

Would the text have been better in chronological order? Perhaps it would have been easier to paint of picture of Dana Lomax, but it wouldn't have been as artistic? I like asking questions that I don't answer : )

Bill O

You're a goddamned liar, Bill O'Reilly,
   dodging bullets, hurling insults
Too ashamed to face the truth - you lied
   hiding behind vitriol and condemnation
   a coward

You're a goddamned liar, Bill O'Reilly,
   throwing stones in glass houses
Not even, houses made of bone china
   so thin you can't breathe without breaking
   shards all around

You're a goddamned liar, Bill O'Reilly,
   we already knew in our hearts
A hypocrite, a puppet, a showmaster
   selling self as credible while tearing
   down your betters

You're a goddamned liar, Bill O'Reilly,
   passing off opinion as fact,
Is it your opinion? Did you drink the Kool Aid?
   biding time while ghostwriters churn out
   tomes of dissiumlation

You're a goddamned liar, Bill O'Reilly,
   you blame semantics
But no one on Earth could ever mistake
  your meaning, a protest and war zone
  no the same thing.

You're a goddamned liar, Bill O'Reilly,
   made your bed
   watch you fall


 

DST

[you can see how I'm feeling today]

Eff off, Daylight Savings Time,
what is the point of you?
I am no farmer, no baker,
no candle-stick maker.
Who needs to get up at the
ass-crack of dawn?

"Spring ahead," they say.
What a joke. It implies rejuvenation,
replenishment - instead it
provides bone-crushing exhaustion.
You are a jester, Daylight Savings Time
you do not save anything.