Noctilucent Clouds


Crystal clouds faint against space
understretch the vertex,
the rays forever leaving
the electric-blue below.

The clouds flux along the quirled
passageways of heaven,
while the heartbeat tides cycle
against northern ice squares.

Animals rustling through plants
seldom behold tumbling
fractals of the Z-axis
or the numerical ground

underfoot. However, the
colored spectrum catches
the consciousness anywhen
chasmatical skies befall.

*[ WSB ].

Dinner Bell


Drooling, the dog
responds to Pavlov’s
rin tintinabulous
a fooling

built from initial
mealtime vigils
bonded with

*[ WSB ].

The Wet Intermezzo


Meteoric the fanfare,
brash the brass that subsides.

Gathering together the simmering seas,
Pangea spread arid
and flat;

tone poem diminuendo
in geologic movements.

Raindrops dropping monotonous:

drip sizzle thump plop
thunder rumble sigh
fog mist puddle flood
sprinkle splash slide
drip drop drip drop drop
flushing tomtom mud
on and on and on
on   on   on   on   on

splattering the backs of reptiles,
amphibians dunking their heads
to escape this incessant hissing:
fish oblivious.

Eons of ponds.

Then up pop the plants
taller now,
two million years.

The Wet Intermezzo:
enter the dinosaurs that tower,

*[ WSB ].

Basic Training |Deibhidhe|


Formaldehyde on fatigues
green on this bald-headed league
— full of vigor, shorn like sheep —
that sweeps the dorm and soon sleeps.

Only to be awakened
by reveille earaching
the tortured troops to withstand
more demands: crazy commands.

Marching to classes in file,
tramping down the urge to smile,
but can’t check the teary dusk —
the eve brusque, full of male musk.

My pate scratches like boar hide.
Will this snowflake get outside
unmarred by rusty wing nuts
with jackboot strut and crew cuts ?

The chevrons flit on rooftop,
settle for the mission stop.
Whiskers are covered with rime—
wintertime: the snow sublime.

*[ WSB ].



Desert scarab scratches
tallies of skittering sands,
adding up sets of dunes:

accrued tics
in Hindu-Arabic,
decimal abstract in
positional digits;
zero: column empty—

origins past market
routes and ancient runes.

*[ WSB ].

Just Like What a Cloud Would Do


That’s just like what a cloud would do:
to feather into marshmallow
or popcorn with butter highlights;
to coast on thermals and billow
into shapes large, larger, largest;
into a beast hurling lightning
drawing the four winds into storm,
these changeable clouds so fickle.

Sailing for days on quiet seas
in vast armadas shadowed blue,
the stratocumulus species float
silent against an opaque hue.
The gray-mare squalls on distant swells
approach jellyfish clouds -content
dew-point aerosols stirred by wind-

galloping in with hoof-beat flash:
horseback giants blacken the sky.
Witches race below the ruins
before the crumbling towers fall.

*[ WSB ].



He alone is my mirage
and my delusion,
my bunker
where I am defiantly
and shielded
from devilish empiricism
and philosophies.

*[ WSB ].