The troll rears its ugly head,
Drool slips from his tainted lips,
His tattered shirt, painted deep red,
Skulls dangling from his hips...
Deep green runs his blood,
Oily black hair,
Pupils brown, cloudly as mud,
Skeletons strewn about his lair...
All fear his daunting walk,
He trembles the Earth with his stone feet,
All are silenced at his viciferous talk,
None of the townspeople wish to meet...
I stand in front and behold,
Some call it blatant stupidity,
I call it being openly bold,
I fight for salvation and continuity...
I stand, clad in blinding armor,
Fearing no man... no monster,
Now a knight, but once a mere farmer,
In the end, I will conquer...
Metal strikes bone,
Lightning flashes, thunder cracks,
Both he and I, standing a top a wobbling stone,
Except I have a dark, endless hole to my back...
The fight rages on,
Blow after blow we fight,
A victor shall emerge at dawn,
But now we tarry in the night...
The sun, a sign of hope, peaks gently over the hill,
Rivers run of the blood sp
WinterWinter10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The old man smiles through clear blue eyes
and skies embracing fertile clouds
expectant with fractal flake children.
He doffs his hat of hazy mist
for geriatric trees, bald heads
displaying their crinkled-wood wisdom.
One hand adjusts his bare-earth tweed
to smooth the frost on collar hills
and straighten a river-ice necktie.
He wanders, smiling at his world
unfurled in tasteful winter shades
now painted on seasonal canvas.
He Smiles In ColorHe'll wake upHe Smiles In Color10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the silver
And he'll pull himself
From his box
With his blanket
And his padding of tattered shirts
Which layer each other like finely woven tapestries.
And he'll pull on his worn leather jacket,
Its pockets stuck in cup shapes
As though they were filled with his dirty hands
Or perhaps coins he had pulled from others pockets.
Both something he actually
had little of.
And every night
He'll go to sleep under a brown paper sky
That has stars of its own
To go along with it's weather patterns.
And if you nod when you walk by.
And drop some coin in his cup.
He'll do something worth seeing.
He'll do something you can't
Because of his years of lacking dental care
And his starved
With his bright yellow teeth.
He'll look at you
And he'll smile.