Archive for the Poem Category

Middle Age

Posted in Poem on August 22, 2009 by vegabro

Middle Age

The rogue knight sorrowfully sharpens his sepulchral sword

And looks for his enemy over his shoulder

The price for paranoia his isolation affords

As he stews in the darkness getting older

The few ephemeral sparks in the dark

Are the only things the soldier sees

His weapon must be stark before he embarks

On his quest to cut down inquires

Early Morning came without warning

To the tired, transfixed Tristan

The prairie grass, acres wide and wet

And battleground for his final mission

He stabbed the morning rise till it turned red

Then slipped on the dew and fell on his blade

That was the day I found my young father dead

Just outside the hospital’s oncologic cave


Cloudy Picnic

Posted in Poem on August 17, 2009 by vegabro

Cloudy Picnic

On a cloudy picnic I did bring my bride

The food tastes better here, she insists, than it would inside

Clouds look better window-in I turned and muttered snide

My sweet love laid the cloth among the dewy blades

Her spot below a tree, for shade under cloudy shade

There was static in the air, not of love but of lightning

And as expected from above, the rain came down to spite me

I sipped a bit of champagne, as she suggested try it

When I offered fro, she claimed she was on a diet

Angrily I finished, when I felt the touch of my lover

She smiled “I’m pregnant” as the rain broke through canopy’s cover

Damp and wet I jumped up, to a lightning’s light

Declaring this the happiest picnic of my life


Posted in Poem on August 15, 2009 by vegabro


What is this priggish rule

That you should insult the war but not the soldier

Thought from a childish school

For they volunteer to go over

Those true patriotic souls

Who join not sadistically or obsequiously

Come a dozen a dime

And used like the rest, only to bleed

And to those others

Who are mistaken for heroes

Please think hard about what you are

Think over this question I wish to pose:

Humanity from land to sea

Does it not apply on both?

Then why is it that those uniformed and shipped

Have a conscience clearing oath?

–The Electrician–

Posted in Poem on August 12, 2009 by vegabro

–The Electrician–

I can’t fight again

They tell me this. I twist a bulb

It sputters. I see the deadening filament.

A burnt out bulb

Bursts with a popping sound

A knock out could

Pop me out and I hit the ground

I Used to hum to the fluorescents

Before a fight

Now I hear the lights hum back

so full of life

And I’ve run the circle on the trainers track

So many times

I’ve never not finished a lap

Although I’m worn

I shall run thin this worn track

And like a light that will till death stay lit

I will fight tonight with the brightest light behind me

On my return circuit