Beset with difficulties Not diffident Nor remorseful He traipses across the vast clay territory Not quite judicious Not exactly seeking redemption Our Beleaguered POTUS pens a letter The ink a never-ending supply of reprisal What is a man to do when the plain folds up and turns to the sky? Loyalty is trending now A mighty royal word only used in the worst of cases Redefined constantly by a blue-blooded bastard* *But trump (with a lowercase “t”) isn’t royalty. Has it ever occurred to “the people” that such historical analogies fuel the narrative of being untouchable, superior, and above it […]

President Trump, Our Beleaguered POTUS

Hey all, sorry I’ve been AWOL the last several days. I’ve been visiting my ancestral estate (and by “ancestral” I mean purchased a few months ago). It’s incredibly serene here, with the trees, the silvery sky, the lush grass, and even turkeys who’ll be joyous until November. There have been so many events lately to drape a surreal curtain over, the G-20 summit, Trump Jr, Bernie Sanders and the hidden, seedy underbelly of Vermont. 74 words in and I’m already feeling intimidated! I haven’t even mentioned James Comey yet, oh wait I just did. He’s emerging again from his pile […]

Scarcity is a Virtue

That one word started to sound funny And his magic number floated out to sea Causing uncertainty to settle on a dark mass Change set down roots Permeating the vile dirt Growing inside while burgeoning on the outside Peacocking its skeletal limbs Still obscuring the night sky with an oak ribcage The finest wood must’ve been imported from somewhere From where it didn’t matter But influence came from inscrutable craftsmanship with an american stamp  


Lo, a fever dream had taken hold In midday Maine The heavenly disk shot across a mind’s horizon Leaving nothing but streaks of color They weren’t hope But momentary entertainment Little caskets Shaking darlings Cackling statesmen All those collided in an endless galaxy Waiting for reprieve But supposedly nature didn’t give second chances Only brief rainbow rays of fortune Maybe the statesmen were right Under the new laws However unwritten or pushed into the future That children were just passengers Waiting for their caskets to slow down or speed up Passenger

Opioids, A Fever Dream

A Rex Walketh about Like a roaring lion Devouring the Capitol Causing disgrace Swinging among tweets Hopscotching over a turtle The Rex comments on its own Gigantic head Woefully short arms Ineffectual hunting skills Beady dead eyes waiting for the end of the world The turtle’s shadow dwarfs a now mighty carcass Waiting to be unseen For the inevitable to transpire Everything seemed cleansed already As scalpels were removed and stethoscopes sheathed The turtle smiled in satisfaction as its green skin Flowed from cavity to cavity Hidden by fiscal grace And messages from eternal fire Snack

Mitch McConnell/Trump Dance of Death

An ancient debate Was resurrected A civil war obscured by elephants locking tusks The well-worn GOP Looked forward to a break As lush deltas increased their humidity in anticipation One senator began to sweat, thinking about the future Shivering and feeling not anchored to this world He fainted, dreaming of a noble and soft-stepping president Of criticizing dulcet tones and tan suits And bridges from Barack letting the golden gates flow It wasn’t fair, he thought That a senator would have to work so hard In the chest-crushing heat Where was the respect for elderly persons? The senator fell through a […]

Obamacare and a Fragmented American Mind

If the mechanical face were turned on its head It would shine forever As things stood though The sphere was already looking to new horizons Lakes grew to accommodate A dying dwarf Since it had spoken Causing all bodies To heed extraterrestrial flames No will had been written yet So everything still churned in chaos Waiting to be released via Daily Prompt: Sunny

Mechanical Shining Dwarf

Too late for sorrow It was malice that provided sustenance If only Plan A had worked out That would’ve meant the universe was on his side But there would be other plans more efficient More palatable to the grand scheme of things Something akin to diving grace would strike at any moment The road offered some peace of mind Waiting as it did to existence in his mind’s eye Only some miles to go before mild redemption Maybe they rolled out like a beautiful quilt To test a demigod’s patience And make him stronger

A Narcissist’s Trinket

To fear the contraption Is unholy Why cringe at the thing That will remove what ails you? Your expression isn’t improving Indeed it’s only darkening This seems like a malady I can’t cure The petulance The cringing They are symptoms of a wraith-like madness Were you bitten by a wraith lately? A phantasm or perhaps a different form of otherness? Prognosis isn’t good Let’s pray to the gods of science After all, they are the sages that have made this couch and even your cringing possible Cringe

On the Altar of Heaven and Objectivity

A gargoyle fell through space and time Landing on top of concrete City unknown Date unknown Level of human advancement irrelevant Vagueness felt good for awhile Possibilities dotted the skyline Maybe some other motivation had planted its foot Buildings aspired to be among clouds for different reasons Then a conversation took place Meanwhile talons tapped impenetrable floors Thinking it would be nice to end the other being What happened next was an illusion Filtered through the rain and moonlight They tossed aside prejudices In favor of grit and truth Illusion

First Impression

It rose from the white rectangle Not even half a man Maybe three quarters if it was lucky Finally free, it assaulted the oak plains Running wild and swiping at children’s fortresses Trying to gain a sense of self Or at least food for the cold night ahead But it forgot to chase the light Which went away at the speed of itself So the paper being fumbled around in the dark Trying to find a structure it hadn’t destroyed It got lucky again Huddling alone in a garish bunker Wondering when the light would return Paper

Rising From the Sheet

Another game Another round through the tunnels that be The beast took a clever route Not wanting fire to lick its heels But flames were subservient too Waiting for wood or delicious mushrooms Nothing a canine human hybrid could really do Except to just keep taking those clever routes Hoping that another path out of the labyrinth would appear Hybrids always went in circles though Mechanically and with a certain rhythm Up, down, right, left The timing was impeccable Orange knives licked arrows in all directions Knowing self-obsolescence was near And that omnipotence was a step away  

Always a Frenzy

It was a game of daises Placed carefully on the floor of the vast chamber The shadows helped Keep royalty in line But the artificial lakes helped too Requiring resources to cross And resilience to make the journey profitable One leader and her crew built a raft to cross the mighty lake Anything could’ve been over there The journey would probably be worth the trouble Since domestic royalty was a little too fierce for her liking So the mystery seemed less challenging by comparison And they crossed with aplomb via Daily Prompt: Create

The Chamber

He was labeled a paragon of the left “And rightly so” The other side said But there was something insidious going on Something that went bump in the midday sun Only to level out and hide in the dark Even the atmosphere was captured properly on cameras Correct angles had to be verified So that death or violence could be associated with something else And a withering lens could see blood spilled on the bases as a home run Truly a different age A gilded goblet Given by up above Paragon

The Better Paragons of Our Nature

He was an ethical gent with a beard She, the sentinel of the wagon’s interior They both had important jobs This trail was deadly It could turn into the gates of heaven in the blink of eye She looked upon his beard lovingly He stroked it thoughtfully They were mindful of various diseases And the unpleasant dead ends life could create The lil’ sprouts swayed in the back of the wagon Laughing with a sense of purpose He combed his fingers through a trail of grey hair She reprimanded those that swayed Everything seemed to be going well Then she […]

The Ol’ Wagon

They gave meaning to a vast horizon But the trees were slowly tapering to a green keyhole Which was surrounded by desert There was no use racing to the finish line It was reducing quickly He wouldn’t make it in time How would he fill an eternity in the desert, then? He couldn’t count grains of sand forever At least not without cracking There had to be a way to reach the keyhole Though it had diminished even more Changing to a tired green Surprisingly, he made it just as the oasis was cutting off reality A dilemma presented itself […]

Trees Taper

Finding stomping grounds While massaging tiled floors It always ends the same way With claws outstretched Stemming from a helping hand Oh well Back to the sea he goes The waves are always welcoming Offering streams of fish And learning possibilities Not to mention a good cave or two They will never grow any larger though So he rests on the floor with skeletal ornaments Broken ships Intact dreams A perplexed eel swims by He stares at it curiously Two can play at that game  

Wayward Creature

The streets lose their structural integrity Making way for loud music So incredibly loud Music so mighty it plays eardrums The beats become louder Assaulting human with “thud” and “deeper thud” Pain receptors cajole a mind for influence But it would have none of it Only pleasure Pleasure and confusion Asphalt is now only reachable via hazmat suit and grit Just part of the package Screams come from another world Down below Also from all sides Demons wake from their slumber Wearing gas masks and ‘tude Little did the other side know That this was the ultimate battle for freedom […]

As The Streets Fade

After the magic 8, He disappeared to an open field Like all presidents that came before Waiting for his entourage to close the gap No one showed A vehicle reserved for shadow presidents led its fading rear lights into the dark Peripatetic Mr. President was all alone now A girl skipped a pebble his way The sun was setting and releasing pink ink onto the horizon Mr. President used only two fingers to lift the pebble from asphalt He placed it in the center of the sun Watching it disappear into a dying pink portal In a way that was […]

Peripatetic Mr. President

Well for many its true That their legacies are portable Made to be transferred to the abyss But looking past the glow Of a salesmen’s pitch Shows good, pliable cracks Then obscurity comes knocking Washing away hope But constructing a path anyway For words to tumble down Time’s staircase Infinitely they tumble down Casually Resurrecting a lush delta And a finely crafted room With furnishings caused by other images A smile, a word A grey beard standing the test of time Time in all its mischief Couldn’t conquer that  

Swept Neatly Away

Another space odyssey He was floating between gaseous bodies Which continued forever Was this the after place? Or something else? Something more sinister? Well those spheres turned into human faces Just in time to be glimpsed by an all-seeing eye He tried to re-wind them To see those silent films In perfect detail But they refused to rewind themselves To devolve to the beginning stages So he, the universe’s plaything, flew into the heart of a random sphere He landed on an old man’s face Seeing the profound deepness of wrinkles and dead skin cells Breath in, breath out The […]

Something Else

It shimmered Looking emaciated Even for a ghost The field was open and ready to be devoured But the shade wasn’t hungry Not for that Every corner of its body swirled With an incredible appetite So the field kept beckoning Sensing an opportunity The ghost placed an ear to the ground Listening for flesh, something edible Womb sounds answered back Apparently it was late to the occasion A milestone of life It eagerly returned the ear to dirt Hoping for resurrection Alas It was not to be Since the womb only made stirred once An opportunity lost on both sides

A Shimmering Ghost

He could say many things about this word, “tender” All of them unabashedly unoriginal But succulence isn’t romance It could never be And with that, sorrow followed He realized that tender meat could never take the place Of a life’s true love So the man In many ways just a statue Dreamed on Grasping for the Elysian fields Where both ribs coated with perfection co-existed with a box of chocolates Tender

So many things…

“Apologies, ye grace” “The lad isn’t frying as expected” “What do we do now?” The king rose from his paper throne It stretched to fit the room Snuffing out other lives “Now, we wait,” the king said “The current age has spoken” There was resignation in his voice The jester made a face that felt flat on the floor As the paper throne expanded further, the throne room seemed increasingly inferior “Where do we live now?” “Perhaps among the commoners” The jester wrinkled her nose in distaste “I’d rather die,” her expression read But the king was strong, and could […]

A Paper Throne

A cleric was transported to a great polished hall It looked suitable enough There were fires burning in the distance Holy and magical No reason to approach them They would always burn Bright and blurry Locusts buzzed around the wavering orange hats But suddenly ceased their apathy and spread themselves thin Across the polished chamber The cleric didn’t know much Didn’t see much Only orange head ornaments dancing mockingly Behind nature’s harbingers Kneeling by the couch didn’t help Kissing the floor put fire into the cleric’s mouth Everything seemed for naught If only the light reflecting off recently cleaned surfaces […]

A Clean Abyss

In the hallowed halls of the law Proceedings pushed justice forward However blind or odorous Or tainted by a sea of stars “As infinite as the universe,” a juror said “Praise be to the stars,” uttered a robed giant “I need to be excused for biological reasons” The lines were many and proliferated in darkness Dr. Huxtable took the stand Wary of reputation And his comet’s fading tail His accusers followed the comet Becoming celestial bodies in their own right But not by their own volition of course Although they would be tarnished later As accusations of conscious stardom Rose […]

Bill Cosby Trial “A Star Was Born”

A Great Bridge assaulted Resting on a bed of doomed flowers They fell like rain amid a purgatorial peace Trying to remain untainted But other voices stirred Made strong by tragedy Permeating the bridge Embracing Borough Market Releasing a poisonous atmosphere And words meant to mask Cut-throat competition “The nature of the threat” “Enough is enough” “A resignation is in order” “Withering protective coats” If only words trumped authenticity Making polemicists burst with righteousness But at least the flowers remain Unassailable by normal men or even representatives

Lovely London Bridge

They cannot see five feet in front of them But are trained to act as if they can They glare at the terrain ahead Sensing boredom And miles of discipline “I cannot look to my right or left” “Only to an authoritative mountain” Though the mountain was crumbling It still seemed majestic to them Eventually the hills and craggy cliffs towered over them And they waved their guns in salute Of mighty mother nature They were cosmopolitan patriots acknowledging the world They still couldn’t turn their heads though Uniform

One Mountain for All

It’s time for a walk A little stroll along cobblestone paths Marveling at the glowing grass Drenching eyes in green Time to see the dandelions flex And the bees pirouette While coffee jugglers Create phosphorescent brown stains Maybe tomorrow they’ll get the unicorn glitter special Enjoying the pomp but not the clean up Woe to the glitter people And to all the travails that give them character

A Walk

You see it striding across piano keys Having the feet of a goad-dess And the legs and arms of a vaguely human person It did struggle for awhile Picking up stacks of hay Begging for beaver meat Polishing pitchforks for parochial devils Well now it isn’t hungry anymore It waits on top of that prison of Shifting ivory and pleasurable strings of notes Everything seems to be going well No dusty room to choke almighty intuition Then hunger finally Bringing the vaguely human person down Earth and its watery crown The moon and all its glory Seemed hopelessly distant Distant

Hungry for More

A helicopter languishes above the sea Cutting wind like a razor Forcing all of them closer To a swaying green blanket She wonders who exists beneath it And more importantly would they Recognize their sovereignty But a bolt of linen fell from the sky Sharp and deadly A deity’s loincloth perhaps Or a discarded tunic Of a feudal lord She didn’t have time to investigate the source Only to steer the helicopter into swirling Frothing, violent, loud, eye of oh my god There was the sound of the loincloth choking Once industrious blades The vast indomitable power of the sea Finished […]

Deadly Linen, Displeased Gods

Music in one ear The other is subjected to Industry and dogs parking And the sounds of winged creatures Thinking their sounds are natural The dark room continues to offer music The outside offers variations on a theme Wheels screech Motors never stop talking Vendors offer of themselves “Take the meat of man, and you’ll be happy.” The dark room grows louder Bombarded by vibrations Some decibels away from Complete despair or sensual mania The first one to knock Gets to run amok In associations and hopes and fears Meanwhile, superior meat Continuously makes itself known

Split World

A wee cottage rested in sunken grass Playing real Shirking off that “mirage feel” Nothing shimmered, giving the hint of an illusion So the bent spine approached Existence was still rock-like With no cracks All of a sudden Birds began to chirp Ripping at a pleasant fabric The bent spine winced Coming closer to the cottage It was palatial and the bird’s chirping Increased in volume The grass became greener The sky an excruciating blue Pleasant laughter from inside the cottage Too much reality Caused the mirage to come Crashing down Red outlined a bubbling vision And appreciation went out […]


Don’t get too messy now The little casket needs your full attention And yes, legs, you have to stay firm too The soul can’t escape the vessel Holding another vessel Or so the story goes Someone was waiting for the man Holding his little wooden box Made from the finest oak “Pardon, sir, but you look like a man…” It was the first time in half a century That a casket containing failed life Was used to bludgeon a man Stay strong You have two to put into the ground The forces gave you a nice day for it “There’s […]

Down by the Crick

Nigel Farage, Chief Officer of the Brexit fiasco, is now being labeled a “person of interest” by the FBI regarding the investigation into Trump campaign’s links with the K-K-Kremlin. Did Nigel collude with members of Trump’s campaign as well as WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange? Farage, current “man of the hour,” is not at the moment being hanged by the FBI, but he could be in severe trouble down the line. He is not being labeled as a “target” but is “person of interest” any better? Probably not. I mean, I don’t think so. But I could be wrong. “Sources say” […]

Nigel Farage, Person of Interest, Man Without A Country, Confused ...

A paper says a portion is given to you Come down to the basement then Brush aside the cobwebs and any red curtains The time of triumph is here Put loyalty to flesh in one of the cabinets over there Just to see what happens Bones go in a special place too Don’t ask It hasn’t decided yet You’re getting closer to the treasure Open another door Sit down on a fantastic chair Pull the rusty metal lever As voltage goes through your veins Re-live the majesty of those printed words via Daily Prompt: Portion

You Deserve

Almost the witching hour Children offer their ethereal voices Hobgoblins their stolen goods Wolves their carcasses Santas, the fact that they’ve multiplied Out of these, The Santas are the most imposing For they control the distribution of various objects Objects that entertain or provide sustenance What if the wolf committed a sin? Or the hobgoblin stepped into a forbidden time stream? They’d be denied pure white snow The latest mechanical eye Only batteries Would be given To tell them what they did wrong Or as punishment The Santas, they haven’t decided yet