ScheinohaJulyPoetry

MILES TO GO

Just when you think life should be simple as
traveling to some place far off in a borrowed
sleep, yours has been coming in fits and spurts,
sputtering dreams buck you wide awake with
each missed shift or misfire piston pop, a
roadblock lunges out from under the eyelids
to detour the route around the land of nod.

JESTER

The poet is a
fool of
sorts,
a juggler
with three
balls in
the air at
the same time.
It's easy enough
to spin
the first;
his work,
perhaps
a second;
home life
in their own
precarious
orbits.
But it's
the third
sphere;
his imagination,
which defines
its own gravity. . .
and keeps
hitting
him in
the head.

BEACHHEAD

We are every bit
as fragile
as an egg
and quite as
impossible
to reconstruct.
When our hearts
shatter
on the rock
of temptation,
scatter shrapnel
along the shoreline
of doubt,
the only
question remains:
who will comb
these beaches
and retrieve
any shards
of sanity
left?

                                  OBFUSCATE ANGEL

   She's a seraphim of secular distortions, descends in a goose feather
confusion, brandishes crossed sword sharp untruths so bare cheeked,
they never cast a five o'clock shadow. Simplify is her unspoken creed.
   Don't sweat insignificant details. No need to worry the chin of any
story she weaves whole cloth from the vestments with reality's
stubble.
   What is truth anyway but lint caught in the trap of fifteen seconds
on the tumble dry tongue? White rabbit lies yanked dog earred and
kicking from a crushed felt fedora, tall tales, the big whopper,
prefabricated walls stacked into villages, entire communities of
thoughtless, undocumented disinformation, ja, sure, she's spun 'em
all.
Sometimes though, her words aren't quite that drastic. Half a
bubble off plumb just means she shaves a 1/4 inch off the top. . .
till the oft jammed hinge swings wide both ways.

Whether it's a life impossible to reconstruct or the court jester: the poet, each of the enclosed trio handles these concepts by means of either free verse or the prose poem.
When not working as a Cryovac sealer in a warehouse or caring for an aged parent, I pursue a third, more public life as an author. My prose poems, short stories, plays, reviews and verse have appeared in magazines in Australia, Canada, England and all over the U.S.

Read Public Execution by G.A. Scheinoha on Skyline Magazine