Ponderable polemics, poetic

WordPress site of poet Mark Lucker

philosiphication

  • Sips

    I am a wine cellar unto myself occasionally decanted aged-to-perfection vintage at times acting the vinegar sweet, pungent varietal undertones serious melancholy drunk to forget remembering quite dry an acquired taste not for all people label me state certainly what I best accompany pairing me with prescribed ideals things I would never associate knowing me Read more

  • Valentine’s Day, approacheth

    Adrift Over a beer, I blithely told a friend bemoaning a lost love there were plenty of “other fish in the sea” unmoved, he was, as I noted “there are also tires, discarded refrigerators and sunken oil tankers” Thus inspired he raised his glass, made a toast; “Let’s hear it” said he “for the girls Read more

  • Wood-post modernist

    thrills are to be had secrets need revealing wonders beg unraveling truths urge to be told revelations dark and light constrained in the pristine symmetry of new, freshly sharpened shiny-yellow pencil just above the perfectly honed greyish tip peach-fuzz wisps of wood cling gently, smell of pine tickle fingers excitedly anticipation cylindrically contained wisdom waits Read more

  • Rider less

    What goes around comes around life more Tilt-A-Whirl than Merry-go-Round Symmetry, overrated repetition needs expected spontaneity no matter how it goes down up…? Nobody waits in line just anticipating the thrill of getting strapped in and staying grounded save the poetically unenlightened dreamer on the rumbling quarter-a-ride, in-front-of-the grocery-store horse – Mark Lucker Read more

  • Lamenting angst

    If one can grieve what never was if unfulfilled wistfulness is worthy of sorrow If could’ve should’ve maybe regretfulness can be mourned I will go to the wake pay my respects sing praises lifting an anthem of toasts to the dearly departed Then I’ll tip my hat leave my money on the bar and the Read more

  • Three for the New Year

    Resolutions less revolution, more ‘what am I fighting for? and who will yell ‘Charrrrge’?! Pledges calendar decrees! resolutely resolving! inability Reality good intentions, all calendrical mandates change? calendar pages – Mark Lucker Read more

  • Playing on

    Faded are July’s warmth, summer’s cheers. Supplanted now by the encroaching hints of cooler days, forgotten expectations, procrastinated chores shelved, he can only now muse without dwelling on what won’t be. Could-have-beens and maybes aren’t statistically meaningful; they never really were, except to others in relation to their expectations and dreams for him. Regret is Read more

  • Freshness

    cardboard Tupperware crowds my attic keeping my soul preserved if not fresh rows, stacks of oddly square bowls repositories of then; lost loves, past successes other leftovers sometimes leftovers trump a fresh lunch filling rejuvenation found amidst the smell musty brown wood pulp – Mark Lucker Read more

  • Muse bemuse

    She has been a muse nothing more and everything less since we met as teens inspiration still flows from a fleeting reminder; hearing her name (commonly used by others out of parental laziness) the searing stubbed-toe pain of an emotional owie only she could’ve kissed and made better longing springs from trying to remember just Read more

  • Poured forth

    The bartender is skeptical; less than most of his peers more transparent about it than many fellow mixologist hesitant in his urge to believe the guy on the stool adjacent to mine doesn’t understand the resistance, thus taking the credibility hit when he can least afford one, then takes it personally, with resignation; defeated in Read more