Poetical Extremes

 

 


BONKERS IN YONKERS

I'm a little hazy
on just who's crazy
around here.
But I'm sure we'll feel
bitter--
I mean better,
after another year--
I mean beer.

 

 

 

 

THINGS

Things in the nature of the
world become whoever loves them
things do not depend
on our decreases and
increases but grow
without our say-so
things are ambitious,
they intermarry
in secret ceremonies
with us

things in their insistence on irony lie
through our teeth
things are a tide that hurries us along,
they chuckle
at our innocence

things love us
to death
things don't need to know
why, they muscle
through in a delirium
of satisfaction

 

 



THE DOCTOR'S SONG

This here's a medical exam
and a doctor's all I am.
So take 'em off, bend and cough,
sit real still, eat this pill,
I'll tap your knee,
test your pee....

But don't come crying
to me about dying.
You're a piece of meat
on a one-way street.
I'm a doc, not a saint--
and living forever you ain't.

 

 

 


LATER THAN YOU THINK
for S.W.

Even more than delicious and desirable
you are—and this is universally verifiable—
absolutely and totally unreliable.
Another day or two of you, and I—so placid and pliable--
will certainly be certifiable.
The issue is instantly identifiable:
when you'll do what is never ever specifiable.
Is the situation even remotely rectifiable?
Just once, say a time and mean it, then I'm satisfiable.
Otherwise, another approach appears more and more viable.
No judge, no jury would ever say homicide is unjustifiable.

 

 

 

 

 

BEAUTY WAITS FOR YOU


More perfect images made of gold,
I throw them at the sky.
I want to be the brighter sun
that burns inside your eye.

I tell you there is beauty
in every atom of air.
Beauty waits for you and laughs
and whispers everywhere.

Snow spins in bright branches,
planets spiral to the sun.
There’s a billion shiny stars,
then there are none.

 

 

 

 


TENDER LOVE SONG

Hold my hands, kiss my glands,
love me til a Martian lands.
Your husband—well, I hope he understands.

How I hunger for your
all-devouring,
totally all-encompassing,
far-beyond-guilt-or-shame-
or-even-basic-decency touch.
I don't want much.

Now put a million kisses in a million places
and a million more where my face is.
Hold me in new impossible ways
and hang on until the Devil prays.

Love, I'm told, is divinely healing,
uplift me with your finer feeling--
put your feet right on the ceiling.

Ah, sweet Jesus, now
the stars go reeling....
I expect we'll love so hard
we'll bounce into the yard
and be arrested on the boulevard.

 

 

 

 

©Bruce Deitrick Price 2011

 

 

 

 

 

Lit4u

 

 

LITERATURE FOR YOU 

 

 

 

 

 

by

 

 

Bruce Deitrick Price

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

--MY THEME SONG--

 

 

ARS POETICA

oh to uncage words
as startling as birds
naked and silken
full of song and shriek
flung into the envious air
on a wonder of wings
to spin and soar and rise
dazzling our days
with surprise

 

 

 

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