Gord
2014-06-16 12:00 am
Those with arsenic bedfellows, exposed. Due to the TV show they gained exposure. Closure to a chapter of chaos and rapture. Posturing to a new hope, classically, In hope that he masters poseur culture²; How dramatically he captures folk, Beards sip wine in¹ balcony of their brother. It's the framework of laughter; Silently I laugh as they excuse them both³, Rendering their will less valid, excusing oath; Adopting a framework of passtimes, Instead of finding, lying among those guilty, Chastising the filthy for soiled torn clothing. Discarding carelessly the heart of an oak, Instead of seeding they favour blind hope; Sans man, would the trees still grow? Forlorn will animals flourish? The hands of man conceive the future, though, Often he lacks the means to nourish. The man will scream of price of grain, though, Often he just lacks the means for omnipotence. Footnotes: 1. latin for 'on the' 2. i.e. hipsters 3. unnecessary explanations given
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Gord
2014-05-14 12:00 am
A man comes to understand, Only as is printed. Lifted from the past, The word casts its witness. Powering part of a pattern, The flower grows mathematically.
The Sophist
2014-04-14 12:00 am
Falling Night, Earthly harness, Silent still, I am the Darkness; Growing violent, Life betwixt, Sitting hell, Rising Sophist.
Dusti Rodes
2014-03-04 12:00 am
In fields of Barley If I tried to tell you truthfully You probably wouldn't understand Just how good it feels right now To be trespassing in the fields Of the Farmer's fertile land. Watchin' the Hawk huntin' Field mice, voles and the odd rabbit or two, Who in turn are out in the morning sun. Foraging for food to keep their families fed. Feeding on the filling green ears of barley Growing gracefully in a swaying breeze. Maybe she'll end up catching A dozing dormouse Taking forty well-earned winks From the furore and frantic frenzy Of activity that fills the field. Walkin' with my four-legged friend, Teachin' him of fetch and catch. While all the time, the real lesson is Learnin' to like the lead. Dusti Rodes (2013)
Dusti Rodes
2014-03-04 12:00 am
Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining (From 'Working the Wilderness') The authorities decision last Fall, to only empty the organic waste bins every two weeks from then on, worked in the Winter when nothing was growing and the temperature was zero or below most of the time. But the warmer weather has arrived, and now the bins contents such as mown grass cuttings, rotting weeds, chicken carcasses, egg shells, fish heads, tails 'n' scales , animal's entrails and the like, stinks to high heaven. The bin is teeming with ants and their eggs, absolutely mingin' with maggots, and the air is filled with flies most of the time. But they say there's a silver lining in every cloud, if only you bother to look for it, don't they? The bait for my fishing don't cost me anything no more. In fact I'm even making profit by selling some of the ant eggs, casters and maggots to my neighbours for THEIR fishing needs! Dusti Rodes (2007)
Dusti Rodes
2014-03-04 12:00 am
Clearing Levees and Cleaning out Culverts From ‘Working the Wilderness’ They moved in a monster of a machine the other day. It was mounted on a very large low-loader, pulled by one real fancy rig. With a bucket jaw, mechanical mandibles, and telescopic legs powered by hydraulics, it looked just like a giant locust. In leaving the landscape raped and ravaged by its passing, it might just as well have been. What with the wet winter and the really cold spring, Mother Nature got off to a bit of a slow start with her growing plans this year. But it must be said we’ve had some exceptional sun these last couple of months and she’s caught up magnificently. Folks around these parts were looking forward to an abundant harvest of wild fruits. Blackberries, elderberries, apples, even a few pears from the only tree hereabouts. Even the oaken bushes were full of acorns at this time; the pigs would have a real feasting this Fall. But it is all history now. The man from the Ministry decides last winter’s floods were too much and now the levee needs widening down by the bridge and several of the culverts could do with some serious cleaning. So they sent in that mammoth on Monday. To get the trailer and its wide load down to the bridge, the rig took the most direct route it could, tearing up the surrounding vegetation as it lumbered along in its task. Gone are the banks of brambles full of blackberries where they cut out the culverts, so too are the briars with their precious bounty of rosehips. The birds will sorely miss them this winter if it turns as cold as they say. There was a fine crop of elderberries on those several trees down by the bridge. I was looking forward to maybe celebrating some special event with the produce formed from the fruits. Looks like I can only dream now of what might have been. They were uprooted easily by that mechanical monstrosity in its relentless quest to widen the levee. As me and the Maverick went walking this morning, I couldn’t but help notice how desolate it all looks at the moment. The grassland all torn up, rotting down with the effects of the last few days’ dry weather, now soaked by last night’s storm. Rivulets of water running down ink-black soil banks, exposed by the monster’s jaw work. The rutting of the pathways caused by the sheer weight of trailer and the rig’s tyre tracks also being filled by the fallen rain. A real shame I reckon. But Nature being what she is, she’ll survive the ravages and in time return the status quo, just differently Dusti Rodes (2007)
Dusti Rodes
2014-03-04 12:00 am
TOO MANY TEARS Too many tears in that house Too much shouting, Followed by silence. Too many tears in that house What secrets hide behind that white door? Secrets that aren't so private anymore. Too many tears in that house The last month's ironing, Piled high behind doors. Remnants of meals, partially uneaten, Strewn across the floors. Too many tears in that house Rags at the windows. Washing left on the line, For weeks on end. Hedge and garden, overgrown. Too many tears in that house Black refuse bags, often three or four, Piled high outside that door. Rotting, ripped open by cats. Contents acting as a beacon For rats. Too many tears in that house. Dusti Rodes (2009)
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