Sunday, November 20, 2016

OTI:four poems:11/20/16

Open To Interpretation

Walking Slow

"Begin again again?
Sure, every tale
Starts all over!
Once upon upon a time,
A pirate Queen named Dulcinea..."
"Petra." Black Dragon Pet said.
"Yes, Petra too,
She has many names.
Once upon upon a time,
Petra had a Black Dragon for a pet,
Can you guess the Black Dragon's name?"
"Pet!" said Black Dragon Pet.
"Of course, and Petra and Pet
Lived in the Land of Lost Loves,
The Land of the Lost Peoples,
The Land of No Return,
The home of Lenore,
And do you know the Land's name?"
"Nevermore!" said Pet.
"Just so,
And on the shore of Nevermore
Among the ice flows and ice bergs
Rises a long dormant Volcano
Black and red and brooding
With a perpetual cap of snow
Do you know its name?"
"Never!" Pet roared with pleasure.
Petra paused in her singing,
Seeing Ichi,
Tripping and stumbling
In his hurry running to them.
"A blind man has grace
When walking slow."
Petra said.
"Just so," Ichi said,
"The Black Ships are gone from Harbor!" 
"Where too?" said Petra.
"North." said Ichi.
"Pet, we'll go see." said Petra,
Leaping aboard Pet's neck saddle.
"I'll not be slow, hold tight."
Said Pet, rising to the heights
Of Volcano Never.

Antique Show

It is only a desk
And a smallish one.
And you only glimpsed
Its carpenter maker?

With small drawers for toys
And marbles and such.
A tower like cabinet in the center
With a glass door
And shelves for display.
On either side at the tower's base,
A shelf on left and right
For displays as well.

The models,
Ships and planes and creatures,
Rested there,
The desk top still has the nicks
From their fashioning.
It's made of pine
And has the dark original varnish.

And is one of a kind.


Volcanos are all called Never
Until everyone's eyes
Tear with ash,
Then they're called Terror.

Sunday Best

Love regaled
In different pews.
In one my sins they say
Smell to high heaven.
In yours
It's just my old canvas boots
Odiferous from workaday sweat.
That, and my pits
That make your nose curl.
I'll repent and don
My leather hiking boots
That smell of mink oil
While I walk with you
For a song or two.
That, and I'll get some of
That sticky perfume
For my pits too.
But away from such meetings
I eschew all masks.
I am what I am,
My words what they are.


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