Monday, September 21, 2015

3 poems

by horace p sternwall

illustrations by roy dismas

the twilight of twilight

in a long forgotten age
poets maudits were all the rage
drunk, unshaven, and ill dressed
the bourgeoisie they quite impressed
with words grandiloquent and sage

every mountebank and magus
made a claim yet more outrageous
in their desperate ascension
to the summits of pretension
with every street corner their stages

they measured out their days
in bistros and cafes
watching honest citizens pass
they trembling raised a glass
as they composed their unmemorable lays

one no longer hears or sees
much about poets maudits
their absinthe-stained cravats
and battered wide-brimmed hats
have vanished in a green reverie


bohemian nights

a slubberdegullion named suzy
drifted through the days blue and boozy
she followed the pattern
of an unregenerate slattern
and could not often choose to be choosy

she had no reserves of gold bullion
when she dined it was often on slumgullion
when her partners in crime
threw her a lousy dime
she said, hey pal, thanks a mullion

no one was up to the task
of ever caring to ask
if suzy had any dreams
or just floated down life’s stream
holding tight to an empty flask

one night she was just gone
but no one commented on
that most unremarkable fact
whether from indifference or tact
and they kept on drinking until dawn



ezra wrote some poems
they didn’t take up much space
he had a twinkle in his eye
and a smile upon his face

ezra wrote some poems
they didn’t take up much space
he had made his contribution
to the culture of the human race

the years stretched out before him
repetitious, bleak, and long
he had some thoughts on the history of civilization
that his fellow humans found quite wrong

ezra wrote some poems
they didn’t take up much space
they will be preserved forever
in a silent purple place


Sunday, September 20, 2015

fighting words

by jack dale coody

the road may be long and lonely
the way may be dark and bleak
demons may hound and surround me
but i lift up my voice to speak

kings may laugh on their golden thrones
and darkness cover the earth
they can banish me from the city
but i know what my words are worth

o lackeys off the powerful
and priests of jealous gods
i will never cease in my quest for truth
no matter what the odds

you can call me a bum and madman
a parasite and a freak
you can build a thousand walls to contain me
i will lift up my voice to speak

masters of the universe
in your towers built with lies
i will lift up my voice forever
without subterfuge or disguise

the highway is crowded with howling dogs
the woods with ravenous beasts
serpents may drag me to the pit of hell
i will lift up my voice to speak