the portal to another space a worm-hole transport tube escape enclosed in a foam rubber wrestling mat to pass through to the isolated place between the periods ghosting in to the gymnasium storage room the wrapped up mat in long blue tube with a doorway hole in the center ring and i don't know why i crawled there inside that little doorway commune cave in the black hole sucking me inside addictive to hide in that capsuled space the smell of new rubber and gym shoes combined untouchable inside and only my kind the vanishing student by the transport tube a worm-hole transport tube escape iambic pentameter, sonnet form 3.6 7/5 © Brian Peter Hodgkinson
Category Archives: Poetry
Transport Tube Hiding Place
Feeding the Fish
the lapping on the hull the harbored ship in dock the rope around the wooden post the wake of ships to lap the passing boats in wash to push the rills ashore in cadence beat against the side combining high the tide the anchored boy in berth below the deck in rack to hear the distant boaters pass the water rocks his head his dinner knocks to "up" the leaning over rail with fishing food to chuck 2.7 9/7 iambic trimeter, subtle rondeau rhyme, the meter like a wave © Brian Peter Hodgkinson
Insomniac with Birdsong
forgo the blunders with the missing sleep so far bequeathed by the dismissed critique of olden, seamless, unencumbered keep the genius resting, morning bird-songs peep around his rookery bed, the window sill loud noises of perennial squawk and shrill and float today into the snuffing night, from many a dreamless snort and armpit smell Unslumbered and grumptuous, red-faced day window with nestling birds the bumbling screen there have they lain the chickies, and will lay rattling upon their windows to the sheep until the later ogre shall punch the cheek then dunce by hand and cudgels to be screamed In raging he shall spin and on the carpet sleep 4.2 9/7 having fun with iambic pentameter, rima rhyme scheme © Brian Peter Hodgkinson rhyme
The Surfers
they catch the waves with shining boards
under the spray in curling tubes
riding the water swirl, through whorls
the lifting waves beneath their hurls
to focus with the climbing walls
gun like a lightning bolt their shores
2.4 9/6
iambic tetrameter, limerick rhyme
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson
Here It Comes
today the bluebird sky cavorted with leaves the sun-green treetops dotted with pink a steady wind providing shaking heaves to bring down billions of whirligig seeds when spinning down look like locust wings them coming down in clouds to sweep up a pink winged mist from the sky descends the eye follows after pinpointing one out the whole way spinning to touch spinning the ground 1.9 7/4 having fun with iambic pentameter, rondeau rhyme © Brian Peter Hodgkinson
The Neo
the poet-bard lost their language amid the drama of night of which, still flashes the words to fizzle from sight until the pink agent is stalled, stilted dumb this poet-bard who once sang of everything when now, perplexed by the singing sung again, may find the urge to kindle the fire of his tongue the cloven flame vibrating above his dome to yet sing the celestial hymn, its radiance intone of the intricate creation of all to query, to unmask everything to what is now too minimal, she ridiculed his Dodge Colt life with her BMW Z series sports car strife to the poet, plainness is a wealth and ponderousness, often their ill-health he kept subtracting --letting go of more and even dumped offering the critiquing score Is the poet bereft of words a poet or bard? this writing rad thinker once sight-marred the neo spotted blind the dying coal then fanning orange, a tiny spark relit the core a new breathtaking wonder inflamed the neo-poet prophetic bard unchained *all in iambic pentameter, blank verse, alternate rhyme 2.1 8/5 © Brian Peter Hodgkinson
The Casqued Hornbill Laughing
with joe, out of doors this dazzled morn the sunlight pours down through the branches in kenya at zero latitude i sit on the step viewing my life the doby dog wet nuzzles my hand to scratch the black fur he looks at me the doberman pincer with stubby tail the muscles bulging from his hind legs on overhead branch a hornbill sits with gutteral call taunting the day the kakamega forest is near of birds and monkeys all visit here the children were given a large cat some norwegian friends that went back home this cat called merlay is daughter's cat an angry cat that fights with doby the cat climbs the tree waits for the dog then leaps the dog's back claws digging deep dog yelping cat riding like a horse the hornbill still coughing loud guffaws 4.9 10/10 © Brian Peter Hodgkinson
No Fan of Ham
it looked like a big desert kitty box the military base twenty-nine palms in the seventies i was stationed there a member of the u.s marine corps but there were no palms, we called it the stumps if we were done with daily duties then the joshua tree monument close by a cactus looking like long scary arms the party there on cheap wine and warm beer a strange dark night met there a man-like gnome when we balanced sitting on canyon stair of this i'm quite sure we were drunk and stoned his old hippie label was pisces tom this lonely cat was living off the grid the hidden life of a wild hermit guy surviving in a bamboo forest shed he raised a huge hog he wanted to sell to catch the pig but he needed some help said he would pay us what he could afford some other drunks and i agreed to schlep directed us to a wide bamboo grove the path cut an oasis of green poles a clearing opened up a center place arriving we saw the hippie's hut house the fenced-off pig sty with a giant hog and even though we still a whole lot sloshed this job was much much more than we could cog the old hippie had a stalled junker car this nut wanted to tie the hog woozy however refused to get in the door the high-pitched squealing fight was a doozie it was lashed to the old car's trunk seat floor the broken down junk heap didn't run too well the stalled engine forced tom to coast downhill the market was fifty long miles away a dollar per pound pisces got his pay reviving his pocket with bit of ham his helpers, tom cobb and i, got our spam the sobering factoid with my twitches a fierce grunt for measly spam sandwiches 3.9 10/10 © Brian Peter Hodgkinson
Fly the Friendly Skies
i flew on lots of airplanes with many airlines klm (royal dutch) sabena (brussels) lufthansa british air france gulf kenya airways pakistan delta saudi arabian just to mention a few pages were pasted in my passport about five feet long when unfolded me the world traveler at first, i was motion-sick of flying the takeoff and landings once dutch-air belly-smacked so hard coming down we bounced back into the air chest in my throat and no fan of turbulence bouncing off of pressure-pockets like a billiard ball off the table bumpers me white-knuckling but something not to hear in midair - "we're having technical difficulties" and that happen going to mombasa we were rerouted to entebbe uganda delayed overnight, but safe once i was in line to board a plane the line was moving slow in fact, not moving the ticket taker was red-faced when people asked what's the holdup hours passed people grumpy antsy i was worn out too finally an airline rep announced the flight canceled because of technical matters the people in line almost rioted with airline-rage but me cool as a cucumber i was happy --glad not get on a flight with technical difficulties to find out too late in the air same with relationships if the wheels come off in the preliminary phase --the siesta honeymoon phase be grateful you weren't up in the air with the ring on 3.7 10/10 © Brian Peter Hodgkinson
Black Dog and Me
we that are playing on the beach of the sea on mountains of yellow sun-baked sand the run with the dog on this blue sky day the skittering crabs crane claws digging in wet feet are splashing the waves climbing land a floating white sea bird tilts toward fish sand dollars are drying, conch shells shining glass the black dog and me pad a lightning bolt dash 3.3 10/10 © Brian Peter Hodgkinson