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My yin blue yang red cold, hot spiritual Rock’em Sock’em Robots equal footing confined battle to the end “He knocked his block off!” proclaimed black-and-white TV commercial peers of my youth in victorious awe such is the nature of my id whapwhapwhap kaaa-chinng! Block knocked off. Stoic head pushed back down locking in with sharp… Read more
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Chinese takeout whiskey sour, two cherries living room recliner not yet in full-on mode discussions of recent past upcoming future plans, goals, objectives abstract in low-resolution wistful recollections glad-its-over conversations annual ‘old’ sounds-better rebuke – same auld, same auld old acquaintances unforgotten checking in/on via social media I’m fine/have a happy memes… Read more
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Twenty-two. Thirty-four, twenty-seven thirty-nine Cancer, leukemia, suicide insidious bastards, each ‘gone too soon’ ‘in a better place’ sycophant salutations of condolence We hardly knew ye Sons, daughters of old friends. A cousin. Classmates of our children. All too vivid reminders “There but for the grace of God…” not at all feeling full of grace single:… Read more
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We all have within us some Captain Ahab obsessively pursuing something, someone unattainable physically or mentally we quest something lost never obtained hadn’t the courage or stomach for a diem you could never carpe uselessly we quest a time we came close nagging should haves gnawing what ifs Crimes of passion not worth prosecuting each… Read more
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Laying in the hospital ER bed vulnerability incognito machismo mano-a-mano upside-down thoughts what the hell is the co-pay on in-network mortality? Say a prayer, ask a nurse “If you keep me here do I get Jell-O tonight?” Task at hand Q & A “Are you having chest pains?” “No, but I do have a chest.”… Read more
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There is reason, even some rhyme in the stanza, the beat the reading in time of who, what, why he was what he did and why he didn’t why he maybe should’ve not stressing on could’ve Sometimes His groove was far more scat than stanza he could always carry a jaunty life tune singing it… Read more
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Plaid flannel shirtsof my Northwoods youthsmelled ofbeer and pine conesboat motor gasoline andfresh-caught sunfishwood smokeand filtered Winstons When I was a kid theintertwined, pungentaromas of cervelat salamiplumbers’ grease, house paintmingled freely, lockedin square-patterned fibersalways-rolled-up sleeves no amount ofFels Naptha-soapcould smother thosegodly auras When I was a kidplaid flannel shirts smelledwonderfully worn by heroes –old men… Read more
WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker
Ponderable polemics, poetic 