New Climbing Partner

friends saw us
said the two are like peas in a pod
looking at you said me
at me said you
the electric years
as close buddies
no inflation
or fluff
we shared the oof
the eyes lit up seeing you
sparkling back at me
but now
the flowers droop

today we said
us breaks apart
the throb in the chest is turned downtempo
the binocular lenses smudged and cracked
at headbanger junction
but i'm not bummed
no whine with cheese
i'm bittersweet
the new siesta
not just me solo
going to
climb the blue mountains
partnering with the lively friend
not met

3.1 7/5
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    
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Posted by on May 16, 2022 in Poetry


Bird Cherry Tree

under the tail squeezed it out
the bird sowed the seed in flight
hit the stone statue splashed white
the rain swept the dot to earth
to the grass between the blades
near the dry sand walking path
into wet soil dug by worms
down yellow-green baby root
drinking the dirty water
rounding back pushing to sun
sticking the bird cherry tree
to stand narrow greening leaves
sprays of flowers and red fruit
the feathered claws eat and poop

2.1 10/8
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    
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Posted by on May 15, 2022 in Poetry


The Last Call

goblins of oil-slicked forest swamps
banshee, gnomes, huldra, whorgs, the naissance
and mud-smeared trolls of yonder fairy bridges
the poet beckons your ears like canting witches
creep out - creep out - you twisted scowls un-shadow
come slavering to the last battle
creep forth your slithering heads fish-eyed cold
into full flaunt humpback sprouting tangled kobold
legends bedded in bardic olden terrors
tailed night creatures with slimy feathers
occult magic woven in your earthy noir
reveal - reveal - your gorgeous horror
grendel of myrridyn sheath ivories no more
reprove humankind's dark sorcerer snake oil
their arrogance would deny terra mater's lore
and by their willful ignorance plague her to the core
awake - wake you sleepy giants with timbered owls
whose sinewed scarred faces are lined with wizened frowns
and holes of hollow mouths growl strangled frozen howls
you are chopped and burned into charred stump memory
sacrificed to the idol of mortared industry
amass leafy armies to flout this foe of dung
ere choking smog destroyeth thee from under the sun
and this bereft bard must wail earth's destruction done

1.5 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    rhyme 
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Posted by on May 15, 2022 in Poetry



i still see their faces
bubbling the gray stuff in my bone head
like yellowed photographs
the set faces
noses mouths and lips
lines of their bodies

the holographs looking three-d
animated messages
like r2d2 screened the bit from ob-wan
gesticulating thin air

like a museum
of science with
the slab of amber
the giant dinosaur mosquito
frozen sculpture

no matter how many years pass
not a day older
that's how i see them

picturing their lives
happy without me
and my today's
the siesta without them

and no black arts
can conjure
that fossil mosquito
to drink blood

2.1 9/7
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    
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Posted by on May 15, 2022 in Poetry


The Chase

pepper-mill-chase gold sign says
the gate dressed up with flowers
white apple blossoms greet cars
i siesta foot the 'trance
turning eyes to clouds and trees
and all my walk i'm asking
why this path is named the chase
where is the mill of granite
to press and grind the seed corn
or small pepper balls to squeeze
here i stand done striding round
the thinker sewed the eyes black

3.5 10/7
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    
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Posted by on May 14, 2022 in Poetry



puffy white clouds pink gray brains
fight the yellow face of sun
swell with black water to turn
feet to the rivers and lakes
the fire stick splitting the sky
bites the barked branch blasts it off
to sing the earring poet's head
burning feathers off his neck
swim siesta blood-eye dead

4.7 10/7

© Brian Peter Hodgkinson   

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Posted by on May 14, 2022 in Poetry


yellow star

the new yellow sun swelled day
all the flowers and the grass
the forest black with long old roots
hide leaf from the sun swelled say
the trees with gnarled bark and sigh
with thick branches push the sky
so the small red flowers die
the mouths of the forest eat
killing them flesh bone and blood
yellow star full moon the mud

4.1 9/6
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson
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Posted by on May 14, 2022 in Poetry


earth mountain road

i walk the earth mountain road
long and narrow the forest

hearing of this i live now
cut a stick to hold in hand

stand and see the foggy sky
on salt ledge stop and lie

the cloud spits on the mountain
like thick smoke on the tree tops

a cold wind blows stabs to freeze
rubbing wet with itching knees

over rivers lakes and seas
snaking red and left and right

hunt this day clawing the fight
snow and ice two feet of white

pushing through sharp at the knife
feet like stone the dull black night

no moon's laugh or star to sing
fear to sleep flower to fling

vomit pull if liver fall
down the sandstone ridge to bite

2.7 9/7
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    rhyme 
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Posted by on May 14, 2022 in Poetry


the screaming abdab

hard to have a talk with him
like walking a field of hair-trigger landmines
stormy with ideas you might say
then booming in the face
at the top of his bull-horn lungs
for the misdemeanor

a prima donna, a diva in his mirrored eyes
and he earned the chops
at a height of six foot six,
waited the little people to hop to
and take note
of his broadcasting persona

a star from the age of sixteen
a pioneer
on the ground floor of canadian radio
broadcaster in winnipeg
he looked like clark gable
heartthrob of the lady fans
writing scented letters to him

his budding career punctuated by
by four years as a flier in the rcaf
401 squadron in world-war two
shot down in his spitfire over dunkirk france
the remainder of the war
in german prison camps

post-war back to radio broadcasting in ottawa
married a woman looked like marilyn munroe
they became citizens to the usa
taking residence in north royalton ohio
hired on with the radio station
whk cleveland as the director
of the station

he and his partner bred german shepherds
crafted a house built from an 1800s barn
in auburn ohio
and in 1960 they took two boys from an orphan home
ages four and three made them their family

the eldest of the brothers
with the junior addendum
growing up
but picked on
by "the senior" from the weight
he placed on his label
junior branded "the black sheep" after the teens
father said he went fifty/fifty his raising kids
for in srs eyes
the zero that dropped the ball

he fit a sized thirteen shoe
(and often said he'd put it up junior's...)
--wore only an eight and a half
berating the child he gave a family
warned not to tarnish
"his" bigness

this is not to put my dad down in any way but to put out there if others feel belittled by often well-meaning parents -- my dad always meant well (in his own eyes), but could be quite hurtful with his unbridled opinions - i made similar mistakes too. My fathers book

4.2 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    
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Posted by on May 13, 2022 in Poetry


homogen eyes

this evening the lights stayed on later
the moon bubbled out of the powder blue sky
viewed with head back walking home
from buying bacon at the grocers
the pock marks on the bubble
look like a standing homo sapien
with two legs and a torso
but no head
or crane the head and turn the eyes sideways
and see two ears of a rabbit
on the moon-bubble hanging
in thin space
the house smells like bacon now
dark outside the moon still bubbles out
the black overhead
like a giant glowing hot-air balloon still-life
little sparks of airplanes and firebugs
pulsing by the floater insect eyes

3.9 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson    
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Posted by on May 12, 2022 in Poetry