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Poems
by Terry Brinkman

 

 

 

Last Night with my Sister

 

Sitting crossed legged near the window of her room

Glimpse of the snow starting to fall as the sun sets

Part way left open

The chalk scrawled door to her room part way open

My name and the marks of my growing almost faded away

Nobbling with her sons around the kitchen table

Not knowing what to do death’s slow moving clock

Unshed tears begin to fall

Patter of past footsteps being chased by old memories

The Priest trying to strike up a conversation

He’s as limp as a wet rag

Nose rags too many being blown to ignore

Wake no more she is resting now for all time.

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Camp Fire

 

California Camp Fire insane destruction

All the king horses and all the kings men

Could not stop the fire again and again

Not with water from an airplane

Then came the Thanks-Giving rain

The foxes hiding in their dens

The fire so hot burning all the oxygen

Camp Fire One Hundred percent contained

Many are Grave Yard Dead

Still many we can’t ever find

Looking for the Dead, Dread

Dollars in Billions to rebuild cost

Everything gone from Mansions to Flowerbeds

We’ll remember to pray at Pentecost

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Farthing Strings

 

He drank to the undoing of his foes

He was only waiting for her wink

Seven days every night

Couldn’t loosen her farthing strings

His righ-wise-ness and straightway

Hohhot be gob she says

Did you see that bloody lunatic?

Wagging her tail up the aisle

 

 

 

a line, (a short blue one)

 

 

Sonnet CLXXXXV

 

Swathe of coral pink crinkled lead-paper skate

Tissue paper covered Irish bisected electromagnetics

First placed weekly newspaper potential poetic

Four long lacerated black olives in oleaginous date

Marks of hospitality his own daughter late

Drank in Joko-serious silence host jocose sympathies

Cocoa creature contemplated but suppressed synthetic

Concave surface of a spoon three sips her mate

Relinquishing his symspho-starcnal still burdensome

Two lacerated scrub tickets to the Museum

Jersey Pears oval basket half empty Christendom

Truth stranger than fiction still quarrelsome

Rise in temperature double filiform crematorium

Jar of Irish cream light Platinum

 

a line, (a blue one)

 

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