Sunday, April 23, 2017

Valentinian II





Valentinian II

Toy chariots and barbed crucifixes...
playthings for an Augustus...
for a four year old emperor.

From my porphyry sarcophagus,
a brother laid beside me....
No bride or lover to grieve.

My father battle-dead....

Milan a prison....

Rats are in the wine
Rats are in the wine
Strangle the child.

The next Augustus 
used my ribs
to swirl and toss salad.


Notebook Crackles: 4





Notebook Crackles: 4

Havre Best Western: slightly parted lips,
gaudy-gold strapless dress, a fifty-or-so brunette
lurches in heels, glitters across the motel lobby.
Fragrance of abandoned straw bale gardening.

Evening check-in: free cookie, digital room clock,
Chinese take-out down the street, anti-inflammatory
meds for the stove-ups,  cheap pillow-top mints....
Aging sky... a grumblin' thunderstorm outside.  

Motel bar: a gaggle of fly-specked
commercial realtors, lip-biters in golfer pastels, 
cell phones 'n chuckles, peel bottle labels,
stare at a Braves-on-mute TV game.


Tongue-stud barmaid scans you, Nice better-days
snap shirt, cowboy.  She pours a free whiskey ditch,
says she made a wood table from three farmyard gates.
says, Eyes the road, not them small roadside crosses.


Saturday, April 22, 2017

Notebook Crackles: 3




Notebook Crackles: 3

A bullet-pocked 1916 farmhouse
framed by warped-boards...
slow coulee miles from sweet care.

Past where a back door
once swung loose on leather hinges
for neighbors... for a scones 'n coffee welcome,
dead batteries... old tires...
echo of ghost-knuckles tapping
on half a maple breakfast table.

Wild ponies gone...
roping gloves pitched downhill... 
buckskin memory-particles.

Arthur Schnitzler

Arthur Schnitzler



Arthur Schnitzler
(May 15, 1862 - October 21, 1931)

From a grand hotel terrace...
through French doors....

Vienna.  My home is gone
with... women who loved.

From a terrace:
a plush bed and nearby a table tray:
purple grapes, wedges of white cheese.

Young hotel maid in powder blue...
lilac ballet slippers.... She falls
upon the passion-used bed, rolls.

Vanilla, rose, sandalwood.

Apricot years are gone.
Eternity is a hotel terrace...
cold square tile... skeletal feet.

Friday, April 21, 2017

Notebook Crackles: 2




Notebook Crackles: 2

Burning barrel night fire
a mile or two south...
a breakfast leftovers smell.

Love is more than longing
or turned corners.

The clock declares:
there's an inky rift in the cosmos.


A ghost Hound leaves a message on your phone:
Where I river-crossed, bucktoothed angels
are handing out store bought cookies.

Max Frisch

The Dream
(Ferdinand Hodler, 1897)



Max Frisch
(May 15, 1911 - April 4, 1991)

The way she sits legs agape
on a sofa... slow-unbuttons her blouse...
cedary musk-rose perfume... how she pats
the plush cushion where I am to sit.

Death is moored to preceding sexuality.
A weekend-only lover, she stabs open 
a bottle of white wine with a penknife.
One oceanic... Friday into Sunday.

In a New York eternity... the Studebaker...
a cotton brassiere dropped past my shoulder.
After-world: rain... moderate wind... scent
of buttery shortbread... a Zurich cupcake cafe.


Thursday, April 20, 2017

Notebook Crackles: 1



Notebook Crackles: 1

Ratshot, .22 or .357, fired from six yards....
No rattler penetration from a wide pellet pattern.

Town lights south of the freeway, a sand-yellow sky,
go-for-broke flapjacks with butter, a side of sliced orange.

Desperate freestyle swimming... at five miles an hour
in your own pulmonary artery, you are faint... unclear.




The God Mercury




The God Mercury
     (495 B.C.)

Eternity is flight.
Weep for mortal plans.

Look: Marcus Laetorius,
such a minor general, prays at my temple.
A muscular wind plays tricks in night trees.

Rot-mouth lover, curls untrimmed,
I love a halting road, broken stone,
old chariot wheel rolled off to a weedy ditch.

Thursday, April 13, 2017

FOR THAT MATTER, A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook





Red Shuttleworth's For that Matter, published in a limited edition by Bunchgrass Press, presents five poems:

Riderless Horses

Waiting for a Guest

Blood-Orange Sun

Antiqued

Ghost Light



Red Shuttleworth



Red Shuttleworth's Woe to the Land Shadowing (Blue Horse Press) received the 2016 Western Heritage Wrangler Award for Outstanding Poetry Book.  Shuttleworth is a three-time winner of Western Writers of America's Spur Award for Poetry.  In 2007 True West magazine named Shuttleworth "Best Living Western Poet."

The latest Red Shuttleworth book-length collection of poems is Straight Ahead (Blue Horse Press).  It is available on Amazon.


Friday, April 7, 2017

CHAPBOOK #160, A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Chapbook





Chapbook #160

poems

Red Shuttleworth



Red Shuttleworth's Chapbook #160, from Bunchgrass Press in a limited edition, presents eight poems:

Hawk Season Notebook #79

Hawk Season Notebook #87

Sometimes You Get Pancaked

Hawk Season Notebook #232

Muddy-Brown Toy Camera Landscape Photograph

The Room Is Stone-Dark

The Next Time

Moonlight Juniper



Red Shuttleworth

Red Shuttleworth's Woe to the Land Shadowing (Blue Horse Press) received the 2016 Western Heritage Wrangler Award for Outstanding Poetry Book.  Shuttleworth is a three-time winner of the Western Writers of America Spur Award for Poetry.  In 2007 True West magazine named Shuttleworth "Best Living Western Poet."

The latest Red Shuttleworth book-length collection of poems is Straight Ahead (Blue Horse Press).  It is available on Amazon.