Upon the hedge-lined night,I hadn't a sight decreed,Only cats' yowls, gunshot cracks,The moans of orgies;The rumbling wheels of chariots,The fluttering fruit bat's wings,The unruffling of maple trees,The patter of crawling things;The rise and fall of a couple's songLike passing Indian canoes,The broken clicks of maddened menW... More..
The chemist-fay, on his tree stump table,Had a vial of dew,A beaker of cream, and a silver ladle.A silver mold of a female fairy,Against the stump,Waited to be filled with dew and dairy.He carefully blended a milky mixtureOf dewdrops and cream-Stirring them until he had the right texture.If a fleck of dirt fell into the blend... More..
Up to bands of tin,The rungs laughed,Since dread sung heartful:Ears 'round the gaudy chill Flopped into still. A foot pointed shoreward,A cap of red plumes,A hand's stubble fingers,A cup of red plums,And purposeless gills: Not vengeful, sticking, Thirsty, patched with curls,But bobbing like motiveAnd bent to a slow world. Foa... More..
Trapped away from truth and love, I lie here in my house, With friends to call, but none that see, I feel like a mouse. Come Halloween, they whistle out And lurk the streets till dawn, Buried high in paperwork, Or lost in fields of corn. They leave the world to fall away And land on glass and urn, To seek the waves that cha... More..
"Quiet Meadow, may I rest here?Many are dead, and I am near."Soft Garden, may I flatten youAs I take a momentary snooze?"Gleaming grasses and misty glensNurse me back to health again.I awaken back in the desertAnd am no longer hurt,But my battalion is gone,So I will rest in this lawn. More..
A parody of Yeats' 'Down By The Sally Gardens':Down by the white gardenias,A sloth and I did meet;She dangled from the branchesBy her little hooked feet.She bid me take life easyAnd spare these precious trees,But I, being young and selfishWith her would not agree.In a field by a river,The sloth and I did stand.We ambled to th... More..
Optically, the sky was a sheet of filter lenses, with alchemy,That lit the landscape like a purple campfire.Fir trees, caked in snow, in a flurry and a whirl,Wound their way upward as leaves sparkledOn every deciduous treeAnd every leaf was a penny. Albums, filled with coins, unfolded and spread like starsUntil they were plu... More..
The human mind is so hardwired to appreciate the sound and musicality of spoken language that poetry will likely matter until that firmware part of our being is evolved or engineered away, that is, when something genuinely more efficient than the arbitrary sounds, syntax and grammar of language comes along. As far back as the... More..
I am like a wizard still;I have not changed,From when I'd utter incantationsTo force a little change.Now I utter words-A bent wordSends me across this earthTo elf land in a secondAnd other places of worth.One bent thought is all I needTo double my mindsetAnd be in the realm of the new,Where goose honks becomeThe mutterings of... More..
When I first saw her dancingIn the crooked-sided streets,She was in the shape of a loaf of breadTwirling in a wide spotted sheet.I strutted up to her and we spun together,A popsicle stick and the freshest of bread;The stone buildings that encased us gyratedWith a slight wobble- I was eating the crust of joy.Old tin cars seeme... More..
Paul Roe
Articles Written: 23