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Forget About Your Duties, Journalists

Forget About Your Duties, Journalists Not everything must be about the spiked Coronavirus.  Tell the media And they would laugh.  You see that they are dyked Up, blocked bowels.  Encyclopedia Materials imply ten thousand things That could be focused on instead, but,...

Coffin, Bed, Whatever

    Coffin, Bed, Whatever He used to have a black nacrotic ____ But now, because of you, it swells again. It pulses and is desperate to _____ Out words and symphonies so full of pain That laughter is the only option.  ____ Is there if you desire it in your throat. If...

Priming Your Pump at the Well

Priming Your Pump at the Well Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem Just one slight push and he slips into you. Unspoken is this love, for who needs love In words when there is love to spew? You want a...

Distant Hits

                   Distant Hits The writing of vague truths in sonnets to Those readers you will never know takes on An almost holy redolence.  You brew Up draughts of hormones and of nights long gone, And other steams of psychedelic drugs, And somewhere far away,...

Binfield’s Baddest Bantam Boy

Binfield’s Baddest Bantam Boy Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse  modern poem  contemporary poem When Pope devised heroic couplets, they Were like the weapons of the day men walked With by their thighs.  Their rapiers’ display Was...

The Sonnet in Its Little Room

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem [Three AI image apps failed to get the format of this sonnet absolutely correct.  The one above is the umpteenth attempt by Bing’s AI. For the actually correct...