13 poems
Home sweet home Latest site info Poetic stuff Serious stuff Funny stuff Topical stuff Alternative stuff Shakespearian stuff Musical stuff
  click here for a "printer friendly" version

New Poems. By Clifford K. Watkins, Jr.




our world is abstract wall art
languishing beneath a clandestine sun
we venture into uncertain worth
surely unraveling as we run
and redemption is a dream
that always fades to reality





unmasked as we run
we languish undone
tracing our scars
reinventing the sun
pretending to be lovers
constructing a soul
spillway of regret
where fleshy mounds roll
we breathe hearty gusts of irreverence
and laugh at our shadow



Random Dreamers


freed from the clutches of random dreamers
traveling through the leaky faucets of the blind
hopscotching the rectangles of this inescapable mind
awakened to some euphoric-vomit release
peering through a tattered venetian blind
witnessing a million tomorrows
beneath a star that flickers
giving light to our glimmer
of existence



Grandma's Favorite Prayer


I took her lucky penny
grandpa's buckeye
and a locket of silvery hair
along with a book of recipes
that were hidden beneath the stairs
remembering the soulful cry
of a savior's slave
a simple mind
embracing words like eternity
there's no relief
decorating the grave
consumed by grief
reciting grandma's favorite prayer
faint words reverberating in darkness



Invisible Imperfections


a voice of mellifluous echo
heightens arousal for travelers
of a mercurial mind
and stars illuminate
an otherworldly aura
indescribable to meager strangers
unearthing a mirror of invisible imperfections
fusing into one moment of bliss
only to awaken alone
embracing imaginary lovers
that vanish without a catch-you-later kiss
laughing at the realness of a dream
never grasping wholeness
wondering if they were soul mates in a past life



Inescapable Labyrinth


somewhere in the enigma
of this open-fire mind
I lost the face that flickered within a flame
a slippery angel's silhouette
that relinquished time
trying to envision
her fully
confusing a dream
for lost memory
a realm of complacent strangers
content in their inescapable labyrinths
bathing in feathers
and blood-colored flowers
squinting in the sun



Erasing My Shadow


all evening in the orchard
she gazed admiringly
each blown kiss sent a swirling madness
as my existence went like a falling apple
imagining our heads on unwhittled sticks
with milky eyes oozing
like the brains of aborted children
silently she passed through my dreams
and her face was a cloud
that enveloped me in darkness
laughing with the maggots
erasing my shadow
oblivious to stars





I'm the fat sort
that wonders why the mirror
won't stretch me lengthwise
as I find humor in the full moon's shape
cutting myself from old photos
chain-smoking away hunger pangs
drowning myself in water
breaking mirrors
and throwing rocks through windows
running from the glutton
who sneezes out bones
and distorts my reality



Love As A Barrier


Forge ahead
forget the emerald knot
that left you broken
basking in the dawn
content in your little world
warm at arm's length
connected to an array of strangers
clouds of uncertainty
in absence of danger
thanking You for avoiding the real
I know it was true
because I died countless times
with heedless whispers
and cowardly mimes
your name is fiery graffiti
framed on my new-found walls!





bug spray
swarming ladybugs
cigarette butts
mound of soda cans
vacuuming away yesterday's shavings
limp dummy on a shoestring noose
sitting adjacent to the trestle
asleep in a caboose
listening to the rising creek
feeling small
skipping rocks
watching the motorists
rushing to nowhere



Coming Down


fiery graffiti burns
in absence of flesh
my feelings wane
as I cut off the mesh
an amazing connection
seemingly for not
maybe one day
you'll be a repressed memory
the headaches have lessened
I've weathered the storm
and maybe tomorrow
I'll witness a sacred swarm!





the miser sifts through pennies
looking for defects in the wheat
surrounded by aluminum cans
his wife sews a quilt
from scraps of cloth
strewed into the night
by a lowly dress maker
whose shop closed for the winter
and a yellow writer
laughs at the sound of breaking glass
trying to convince herself that she's okay



Panic Particles


panic particles bring dust momentum
and glorious skies have risen
on a canvas too divine to envision
mistaken for the perfect one
unaware of what dawn has done
as always
dying aside
the massacre's run
piecing together a certain reality
cold in the shadows of the fragmented sun
only wanting to run
and rescue everyone
anxiety-riddled cowards
slow breath
immense breasts seem to conquer
different lives
poisoning our health
staining our knives
escaping thru open wounds
our perception is all that's left
she sits nude in front of a circus mirror
I see her progress
blank canvas to fine mess
the abstract painter
her lover so sullen
lost in a realm
a dream world prophecy
a screaming mime
and silent echoes
surrounded by naked clowns
abstract art
obvious ineptitude
where do I start?
Why am I rambling
I don't know
looking out the window
life flies by
got no where to go
I'm always high
she died many years ago
I can see the end
too lost to pretend
wanting to ascend
this meager legion
I'm reaching
spilled coffee
scorched lap!

a line

All rights reserved by the author. No reproductions without consent.


© Winamop 2008