Monthly Archives: March 2021


Polar zephyr stab awake.
Horizon dark, opalescent haze
semi phase,  lune orb-shine
sparkle ice-dew diamonds.

Stirring begun, a new revolution.
The Dance shivering,  change…
Revive mauve vibration ring
into bird’s boisterous caw-ling.

Genesis echo, milky stellar space
I stand, enveloped measureless wonder,
moiling creation transformation.
Somaesthesia Process — I AM.

Thawed first-light heartbeat . . .
“Another dimension home” X-File.
Id-Self   I -You   fusion sing,
mirrored morning unfold Eternal Day.


© –Limericist 2006

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Posted by on March 14, 2021 in Poetry


A Nymph’s Tail

On the isle of Ogygia,
the nymph Calypso reigned
where violets blanket the verdant plains
& fountains flow with sparkling waters

Calypso’s magnetism
transcended what any mortal could dream,
the daughter of Atlas held Ulysses prisoner
ravishing him for seven years
in nightly orgies

her kaleidoscopic beauty
inebriated him submissive,
but the night after night
of bacchanalian carousing
became a drudge,
until he longed
to escape her bewitchment

He became discontent
in her artificial utopia,
yet many have risked
everything & gone to watery graves
trying to reach it.

the morose goddess faded away
from a broken heart,
she could no longer deceive Ulysses

she confused love with coercion
an error that makes
even the choicest satisfaction,
a bore.



© –Limericist 2010

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Posted by on March 14, 2021 in Poetry


Ass-Goblins in Space

Ass-goblins jump and bite your face
when you bend to tie your lace
happens from your lack of grace,
and arrogant behavior

Hobgoblin gadflies fill this place
they leap and growl in cyberspace,
then hacking chop without a trace
if you think you’re the flavor.

I believe the imps exist,
and will detect all prejudice
when some, selecting to be pissed,
and bitter as a hater.

Rather than helping others grow,
you had to be the center-show,
then chew on those who didn’t know
why you’re an alligator.



© –Limericist 2006

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Posted by on March 13, 2021 in Poetry


Spring Dance

sliding steps, bodies dance
entwining, kissing –awake
creative stresses are releasing
intimately sharing –we take
swaying in and out (gently, slowly)
teasing, whispering –flowing
enjoying tenderness –surfacing
spiritually in tune –we’re casting
being ourselves actuating
chakras stimulating
surrendering to our desire
losing control to the fire
we are beginning to boil
our bodies, slick as oil
kundalini springs to coil
the power grid of love
yet harmless as a dove
both stoking to emanate
the dance of ‘give and take,’
climax? not yet –(idle down)
need more twirling around
we work the electric slide
undulating as one, we ride
novel rhythms free our feet,
sensual hands smoothing,
loosened hips swiveling
bobbing to the beat,
turning up the heat
until the dance is
all there is



© –Limericist 2007

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Posted by on March 13, 2021 in Poetry


Changing Score

Amplify the greening stillness
Clarify the setting day
Beautify the chirping boldness
Dignify a song to play

Classify the singing earthlings
Deify the animating word
Rectify the tearing heartstrings
Specify the crying heard

Vilify all biting virtue
Ossify a bending bone
Electrify the burgeoning snafu
Unify the hearts of stone

Fortify the flagging creature
Solidify the melting core
Liquefy the fossilizing fixture
Certify the changing score



© –Limericist 2008

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Posted by on March 13, 2021 in Poetry



there’s a time to walk
past twisting paths,
with sharp turns to the left–
give thanks.

a time
when steep ways slither
slippery with jagged jutting worries–
give thanks

when dark trees crowd out the light
of everything familiar until–
give thanks

when hiking partners decide
to turn back, leaving one to
hazard the journey, alone–
give thanks

when the music
is known only to the inhabitant
of a heaving chest–
give thanks

when no turkey sits in the oven
to be basted, and the feasting
is on the silence of meandering
give thanks

give thanks
because of being, just simply because
you’re a changing process to be

the song never remains
the same
but thankfulness is
always its own

& choosing to be thankful
through laughter or tears
is always
a self-defining



© –Limericist 2007

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Posted by on March 12, 2021 in Poetry



‘How are you – how’s it going?’
I don’t want to answer, but
‘I’m good, thanks,’
it’s a bald-faced lie,

Life is a jumble.
but, I join the customary
dance of mendacity

Making a report,
‘I was in the hospital,’
‘Oh yeah?’ in her sing-song
‘Tell me all about it,’

she pretends to cough
using the action to glance
at the cell in her hand
–eyes roll, then
she feigns caring eyes.

I should halt but,
‘I almost died,’
a soliloquy–

she burbles, ‘But you look so healthy,’
‘Thank you,’
the conversation ends.


©–Limericist 2006

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Posted by on March 12, 2021 in Poetry



It stares at me with its sad-dog eyes.
Breathing on me. My frown defies.
What a moving look it has to beg
for a bone or a leg.

Feeding time is drawing nigh,
it’ll have its feasting day
I gave it some scraps already
but wants more to bury.

The remainder shall be given later
but not while I’m still able,
until I’m all played out,
I will flick it on the snout.

© Limericist 2008

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Posted by on March 11, 2021 in Poetry



Maybe I should be worrying
because the pieces never fit
Perhaps I should be hurrying
because it’s wrong to think and sit

But I suppose, to stop and think
is more crucial than to shrink,
for that is what I’d surely do
without the times when I withdrew.

Bills line up in a row
without the means to pay.
Should I allow my inner glow
to lose the light of day?

Is life just a chance to earn,
and time alone just money?
Because if that indeed is so,
I surely missed the honey.

When I, at last, return to dust
and leave this world of fading lust;
will there, then, be time to learn,
or my meaning to discern?

I have come to this conclusion
amid much that’s nothing but delusion:
Our fast-paced culture
feeds on our spirit like a vulture.

© –Limericist 2008 & NOW

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Posted by on March 11, 2021 in Poetry



Why this sense of loss and betrayal
locked behind prison bars of portrayal?
Intestines writhe, so pining for
relief from the blood that I abhor.

We were born as a fragment of a family
we were childlike, optimistic, and free
but we drifted away, shrewdly snared
in our sight, a chimera flared

The shade instigated hate into flaming
firing hate for themself and then others shaming,
overtaken by bitterness and asp-like venom;
then they call the actual story a lying scam.

It drained your love dry for our matrix too,
who furnished the walls we all once squeezed through,
whose fountains we drank from, some vicious stabbed.
Now, thinking of those as horribly scabbed,

In a barrage of curses, accusations untrue,
though damaged in the heart, only love can guide you
all attempts at inciting outrage have failed
by the spewing of hate, some appeared to prevail.

The flaming fabrication is fast fading,
Shortly, it will be the end of masquerading.
This distracting episode is virtually over.
Fleeing to the branch that once gave us cover.


© –Limericist 2007


Posted by on March 10, 2021 in Poetry