poem 1, sonnets 3
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by Terry Brinkman




Storm Tossed


Storm tossed heart of women cry

Like a burr sticking in a horse’s mane we are born

Unmentionables fell off in the sea jollity

Stone heaps of dead butterflies, you’re for warned

Last glow of fleeting day misplaced

Vague loneliness of the soul stumped

Gun whale of a boat stuck and disabled




a line, (a short blue one)





Pointed in a friendly jest turned white

Lathered cheeks and neck shave like men

Were you in a funk over that pen?

 How long will she stay in that light?

Suter she cried thickly all night

She cried briskly until ten

Ring tipping and sunny Athens then

Body-blow hypocrisy and circus starlight

A man she did not know in vain

Sat down at the edge of the gun-rest laughter

Suter shadows thickly flame insane

Rational and fractional rafter

Seeks refuge in euphemisms profane

Lips with dirt in the corner thereafter




a line, (a short blue one)



Sonnet CDXVI


Wine stained square of City Weekly On floor of the chapel

Takes three hands limb from limb to lift her appliance

Sticky clattering sympathies alliance

Brew foaming from the top of her pint of Apples

Splashed yellow near his boots dapple

Porringers Tommy Cats trotting reliance

Not here don’t see him scrapple

Archbishop’s field-marshals approach

Drinking Club scraping bottom of behooved

Life of absence ginger bread coach

Rub off microbes with handkerchief or move

Double smiled Stratford monument roach

Silent witness platonic to prove




a line, (a short blue one)





Poteen in his hump distilling grapes laughter

Looked sideways making your coin

Industries exquisite variations Des Moines

Phenomenally beautiful parenthesized grafter

Hilarious pretext nasty sidelight groin

Beyond a shadow of a doubt sirloin

Reduce pace bearing left relaxed walking after

Rectification on the anachronism glass

Social and ethical Roman Catholic slap

Manager of life transatlantic bass

A woman having reached the end to her strap

Emergency dust buckets ecclesiastical brass

Distilling grapes poteen in her hump’s wrap 



a line, (a blue one)


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