featured in the poetry forum April 11, 2024  :: 0 comments

Recalling adventure past the warm waters
Forrest says the sky’s lapis lazuli
And it was the first time
Discovered somewhere around the globe
In a place of fighting
Over drugs
Or religion
Or wonderful blue stones
Porches are supposed to be Haint blue I learn
Because maybe the mosquitoes think it’s the sky and get confused
But it’s associated with plantations, too
So that’s out there now
I wonder what other planked surfaces give cold statements about their colorists
One car after another pushes the air from its hurried track
Bouncing along to their vapid destinations
Petrarch in Vaucluse
At the wellspring
Writing more and more
Dilution is the solution to pollution
Of the negative cash flowing hydrogen fuel cell manufacturer
After the oracle tripled down in oil
It helps when you accept life’s hard
It helps to see black and white

editors note:

What’s clear to you on this Thursday? – mh clay

Hometown Anthem

featured in the poetry forum August 10, 2023  :: 0 comments

melting dragon
on his gray mat
under the crying sun
gravity leaves the universe once more
wailing despair for the angel to fulfill God’s promise
any sign
on their glowing screens
we yearn for them
to return from the fields of rectangle grasses
filleted angle curbs
round out the king’s tongue
without hostility
but for the contemptible dragon
mamushi and hornets
black, silver and copper
next come wolves
howling at the golden moon
and the panther goes down
through the hole in geography
to the house of the dragon
sailboat in styx
into the rotating magnet
into the fabric of time
another dusty patch
another sleeping dragon
another lamb
another hopeful laugh
under the crying son
a lantern lights the path
calling them home for dinner
gravity comes in waves

editors note:

We would wave back, attempt to resist the pull. – mh clay

The Art of Surfing

featured in the poetry forum April 28, 2023  :: 2 comments

We are the wave and the board
And the invigorating water clock wading into shore
Cool as granite boots
Moon tide gravity oblongates mooring ropes on the monger’s indifferent vessel

Do you know the first rule of fishing?
I ask the untamed light
Walking over soothing board’s creak
smooth shafted anchors
Go where the fish are.

Near the long barrels
Past the riptide sandbar
wandering ray berm
Time reaps the hope of incautious optimism
And she paddles out to sea

We are the infinite sun and salty air
We are the solitude and the rhythm
Surface tension pulls itself into a molten mirror
Heaving with energy
a golden thread in the caustic mist

We are the seeker
Digging into this boundary between two worlds
A soft pong
Binaural beats

editors note:

Cowabunga! – mh clay

Gravedigger at the Fair

featured in the poetry forum January 2, 2023  :: 0 comments

Gravedigger at the Fair
Socialist miracle
Multicultural spectacle
Hey, we can’t use these tickets
You want’em?

Piglets and lambs turn into sheep and bacon
Hopeful youth turn into bookkeepers and headlines
Concrete is the 3rd heaviest carbon footprint, I read
Will we be done by Friday? she asks.
Do you want to ride the Crazy Mouse?
Of course, I do, or whatever you want
The ride you’re asked to be on is always a good one
We celebrate commerce
Mastery over nature
Youthful indifference to responsibility
Cotton Candy harvest
We are concerned about x
y and z
I’ve got 500-mile legs and a bridge to build
And so far
A pen

editors note:

Fair enough! – mh clay

A dialogue of light and sound

featured in the poetry forum March 24, 2022  :: 0 comments

A dialogue of light and sound
Carbon credit NFTs
The only nonfungible thing
is time
and maybe an idea
except anthropologists believe canoes were independently developed
in different corners of this erstwhile flat village
until they wither, and fade, as any hustle eventually does
except real estate
and the corrupt
Who trade wealth for notoriety, and the legacy of an interesting tale;
The black-hearted artist iconized for their relevance, in history after death
Two arms lengths of compassion
I ask her why she paints the edges of the piece
I ask her why she doesn’t paint the edges of her piece
I ask myself if this is real
Is living between flashpoints a choice?
And if so, who chooses?

editors note:

If not choice, good story. – mh clay

Cash Flowing Assets, Part II

featured in the poetry forum December 13, 2021  :: 0 comments

A Tiktok Meditation

She tells me it changed her life
That she has the profound secret to wealth

He tells me to call this cell phone number
if I am an Accredited Investor
And if not, to enroll in this class
for a limited time

I remember that people watch Facebook
to see videos of puppies falling off logs
And marvel at the highest, best use of freedom

Saving money is for suckers, I learn
You gotta put those stocks to work

The house pays for what you want
Wearing your Lambo
multifamily Ferrari
Checked shirt luggage in the front trunk

Baden Powell tells me it’s not about money
Self-indulgence or success
It’s about health and strength
And utility

Water and sun
A fishing pole
A splash of wine and ceviche

You can take that to the bank.

editors note:

Motivationally speaking. Dubiously listening. – mh clay

Cigarettes and Gasoline

featured in the poetry forum September 30, 2021  :: 0 comments

You gotta figure out a way to make it all work.
A symphony in two parts
The type of crescendo that leaves you wondering.
The type of connection that
Before the 30-minute happy hour couldn’t have been forecast at all.

Roll down the window.
A coastal breeze
Off the asphalt sea.
Dandelions crashing into the shore
Of 60 grit polishing wheels.
Open palm to the rush
And high five from god
To turn up radio math on the sundial
When I needed a push over the threshold to concentrate
In 4 week revolutions
Google says what the moon’s doing tonight.
And in colorful patches of day’s infinite possibility
We both see the backstop:
A wildcard.
Who at any moment
Could push all in.

editors note:

Here it is! Call or fold. – mh clay

90 Minute Bender

featured in the poetry forum July 8, 2021  :: 0 comments

wake up wet
head slung low, and stalking
a bolt of lightning
down the line
digging deep into tufts
of synthesized light
pumping ozone
into carbureted freedom
get with it man
no, i don’t
and i don’t
and then, i do
a catenary wave
progress, regression
these quickening exhibitions of lost control
to play and slay
a car on the railroad
chain of life

editors note:

With each of us a languorous link in the chain. – mh clay

After Twilight

featured in the poetry forum April 23, 2021  :: 0 comments

Check out how much stain this drier sheet caught.
If entropy had a color, it would be gray-blue.
I consider pristine white fiber.
Peaceful softness
Before being scoured of its fluffy edges.
Becoming dirty on the way to becoming clean
I want to believe there’s science here
That I am not second-hand victim to the patricians’ savvy;
To my own fool’s errand – principled endeavor
That it’s a small loss
And a meaningful win
And following harsh discord
Pull the lint catch
and roll off 2 feet of gray-blue tinder
Soft en route to the bin.

editors note:

Lint pickers by patricians’ paradigm; fragrant, if not clean. – mh clay


featured in the poetry forum January 25, 2021  :: 0 comments

I’ll never unsee you, she says.
Desiring for a moonflower
In a barred mist fog
An Unbound cube
The pattern is chaos.
Then falling faster toward potential, or mass,
To settle upon a velvet leaf
Perfect potential is green.
An Unfurling tendril
A color with no name
A natural satisfaction.
I know you know, and so do I.
The mysteries of our construct
Space no matter for symmetry
Distance no heed for data
Entangled, the singing stars

editors note:

Mates in moon and flower and all. – mh clay