Lost Boss

We have to get to Whitehurst!
Tuaca, Liqueur.
Cryptomatic
Rikki Likki con Nikki

Wait ...

That has merit!

Craft-o-matic
Anchormeister
Dart-inspection on her blouse
FAST FOOD ZEN
19:56 You only remember wha' cha'
Need to rememba', Atlanta.

Jones Beach
Long Island, New Yoik. Watching

The Sunrise.

The desert is your toilet, Jack.
Yarn Shoppe?
Grits and ... See you don't really
Have to pray for toilet paper.

20:20 blatantly cute...
Big A's!

Poindexter and the Metal Benders
Peggy snorted again.

Czech is in the male.
Vocal gender switching.
Lost boss.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Golf Man

Muttering to his own mind distance and wind measurement
While Falstaff-tans approach, they are
Consuming and spreading out along borders
Some things one must take in faith ...

That miscreants, hellions, and twerps
Cannot prevail beyond the number seven,
And what is it they consume? Besides
Culture, their diet demands, gorging morals.

Wherewithal of deepening fracture,
Could tempt the perfect par eight to sway?
He, Golf Man, might at Fall be perfect in game
... perfect in stature,
In judging turf men's perfecting grass grain -
In conquering swells, grade and drift in gale.

Winter wave, late tee, lengthening shadow ball,
Perfect arcing hook at 300 pine tall
No meager male shall stall his golf
For love of tempestuous, herald par -
One cannot assume big boys tote and play here -
The association is more intimate by far.

Tyrants on steel horses cough,
Can come only so close to the life in golf.

Absent of guile,
Golf Man has a two lie --

Hardly noticing at all
... staid he cogitates the ball,
Hairy hands reach deep to putt
... heeds he no earthly call,
No wall of wind to overcome
... he putts to bird
Finally to golf god
... speaks he the third:

What a swing --
What an up lay --
'nift, the brass cup is stirred.

God, oh what may be asked
... more of any Golf Man.


Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

I Miss My Children as they Dream

I miss my children as they dream,
In value times oft' it seems
Escape they to finer place
As clouds gather over landscapes

My children wax in Summer's grace
Cry not while in their place
Roam though I a babe as old
Battling too till I'm aloft the world --

That then is conclusion
my children's dreams ...
They ride free a'stride stallions
Claiming pastures for each's scheme

I've but purchased my bare plot
I have called in my delusions
Articulated on high things
Given to do lower; my illusion.

Primitives would gather to my grave
In stiff fog of dreams I have,
Scoffing unrelenting ...
Crying not, nor laughing they.

Yet I come not in spectacular times
To biddings of forgotten souls
I strive for shelter ours
Before grave in life's unfolding hours

I miss my children as they dream
For I alone can know them to value it
Wanting each their right to my spirit
A portion my children rightfully redeem.




Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

In Che Direzione le tue Lacrime

In che' direzione le tue lacrime?
Dove vanno sempre, in preoccupazione o per bene?
Singhiozzi di incoraggiamento ...
Il messaggero di dolore
Visitando gli amanti separati
Che il loro affetto andra' via domani.

Questa casa e' vuota!
Non c'e' nessuna vita, potra' essere perche'
Non c'e' nessuna promessa e il dolore e' profondo!

Quando ti sei svegliata in terrore e hai parlato
... " No, per favore, No " ...
E' questa la paura di sbagliare
Nell' amore cosi' profondo
Nell' oscurita'
Senza fondo.

Abituati nelle tue lacrime
E le mie. Col sapore di sale.
Le preoccupazione del presente
Di essere da soli e senza dell' altro.

In che' direzione le tue lacrime?
Dove vanno sempre, in preoccupazione,
O per ill bene che' ha creato.

[For Marinell | 1991]
Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Remember the Future

What is; what isn't
Is better than
all linear systems up for review.

Omniscience capable brains
with linear existence

I can now remember the Future
And an infantadolescent creature

Harvester of language
not for even an outline
but for what I sense volumetric

Snow drifts expire ... summer wind
for as long as the earth is
do seasons follow one another?

Tree talk ... sun path
They have memories
to reasons of gravity on one another?

Baby ... become mirror
When head out, head to head
will be overworked as she becomes mother?

Thunder storm ... simpler fright
of clouds and vapor and thinness
and breaking up of dreams?

Forgive me ... answer me
for I remember the future
and then why again is this so important?

Harvest not language for even an outline
for what I sense in volumetric
What is what isn't.

And, now on ... on, on.

[Pat to Ali and Matt | 05.18.93]
Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell