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Glenn McCrary, 22 december 2012
A.M. Escape Art
The A.M. has happened upon us yet again
Sunlight ascending; spreading poems
Humans walking, working, speaking
In tones that illustrate such elaborate effects
Often considered a form of the art of escapism
Dreamers, thinkers, doers, poets,
Artists, ballerinas, actors, singers,
All masters of escape art
With every venue they inhabit
New shapes are concocted
Each day, each task, is a performance
Although exists not an audience
Seemingly because we escape
Opinions matters not to us
Hell, I just escaped for the moment
Would you like to escape with me too?
Glenn McCrary, 18 december 2012
9th ☽
Safety wasn’t a brand of quarreling
For it was known that I was of infinite value
Sudden circumstances in the moment
Establishing rare hopes that weren’t previously held
How it was such an inviting risk
Disappointment was the making of fiction
I knew not of catastrophic probabilities
When cherished by such a caring creatures
Around my neck lies an emblem of my sincerity
To hold for multiple eternities
Glenn McCrary, 18 december 2012
Now
A collection of valiant philosophies fornicate my cranium
Philosophies that mere earthlings fail to fathom
This desire to birth from such a complex asylum
A power not of the world of which you and I speak
Neither comparison nor ability can be measured
One can try but his efforts shall equate to nothingness
Man may take from it what he wants if he must
Although the return will be of a much lesser degree
Patience is but a fallacy
Now is a gift that shan’t compose contrition
Glenn McCrary, 14 december 2012
On
It was there
In the pinnacle of that darkly moment
From within all sectors that comprised the universe
That years and years on I had yet to know…
Its secrets were embellished in fancy lettering
Skyjacked by great shock I was
Before the effects consumed my well being
I scrutinized the shape of which I had taken
Finding myself that fully clothed within trench coat of riddles
To neither of the questions had I obtained the answer
Only a wink of desire
Glenn McCrary, 12 november 2012
Her Neck Screamed One Tune Though Her Thighs Screamed Another
Again I played witness
To the stunning vignette that was her body
All evening the thought to compose words
Materialized from a former canyon of desolation
Merely because I had been swept into the distance
As I am forsaken to ponder
When she’ll become attainable
Glenn McCrary, 12 november 2012
But She Looked So Lovely Under The Lights
Each time that I see her
A switch is stimulated within me
So arcane yet freakishly alluring
And like a tiger hunting its prey
I chased her pirouetting shadow ever so enthusiastically
The taste of it quite addicting in a hopelessly romantic sense
Tirelessly becoming the axis on which my beliefs lie
Glenn McCrary, 12 november 2012
Her Hips Were Like A Motion Picture
Thick like knuckle sized sheets of LSD
Her hips swung just like the doors of my virginity
With great ease I grew aroused by the rhythm
That produced the beat of evolution
How I imagine gently seizing her hand ever so tight
And holding it for only the universe knows how long
Occasionally I ponder on whether or not she knows
The lovely effect that she has on my bones
Glenn McCrary, 12 november 2012
There Was A Tattoo Of Religion Upon Her Lips
If like a sponge she acquired the abilityTo ingest the amour that I have for herThe possibilities of establishing a new religionLie concrete and sound as the imagesOf her body and mine as oneIf ever a chance arose to fix a womanShe’d be just the gash to mendAnd the scriptures would be her satin skin
Glenn McCrary, 12 november 2012
Eight Track History
I had taken a seat along the sequences of curiosity
When suddenly my mistress dawned
Her eyes alternating in succession
With the pattern that were mine
“Hello” was the word that ejected from her lips
Firecrackers had begun ascending
History was being sculpted before us
Glenn McCrary, 4 november 2012
Foolish Sex Of The Century
Hardly any creature is
Of equal proficiency
To decipher a melody
Void of meaning
Though the reason for such foolery
Defines the existence of apathetic beings
Therefore upon there foreheads
Carved were no meanings
Glenn McCrary, 4 november 2012
Between The Legs Of Dogma
The artistry of the dogmatic
Lies upon the breaths that are bated
Unwanted sarcasm tossed
Though often musters hostility
And the branches arc
With each split decision
Affirms the logic
Behind each laceration
Glenn McCrary, 4 november 2012
Darkly Teat Of Misery
Here I stand
In the arms of a comely apocalypse
Foreseeing my deathly fortune
Reality never served as a good friend
But it was in that moment
When the sun shed her darkly grin
And hummed a song of comfort
In the mass of increasing terror
Glenn McCrary, 4 november 2012
A Strange Sunday
‘Twas something strange in the way she waltzed
A majestic triumph of the age
Her classic imagery paints the room
With such vibrant colour
Often this will leave a man to ponder
Upon life’s eccentricities
Will they ever shape into meaning?
Glenn McCrary, 3 november 2012
Graphic Barbie
My fair ladylove
How dare she saunters the halls
Taunting a man so graphically
She holds the very knowledge
That her figure is astonishing
It is to be concluded that she cherishes
Being the focus of my poems
She then exhibits herself quite flawlessly
Bearing equivocal fervor
Glenn McCrary, 28 october 2012
Technicolor 3
Daylight has cuffed the forsaken canyons
And as I am just rousing from a fair slumber
Saluted I am by a spectrum strangely colored smoke
Could it be possible that evolution advanced so hastily
The mist that is emitted from her orifice
Remind me of happy, platinum things
May her lips bear more phenomenons
Glenn McCrary, 26 october 2012
Cloud 33
When enveloped within her caress
One will have come to master the conception
That blackness isn’t as careless as she seems
Murmuring monotonous nocturnes
To inaugurate safety
And endorse loyalty
Now it is not entirely certain
Whether such knowledge
Is deemed fallacious or authoritative
Though does there exist a plausible reason
For such subjective musings?
Glenn McCrary, 25 october 2012
The Ghostly Aura
Such discernment would never have dawned
nor would one ever think such artistry
Could be made to appear so sullen
Her cheeks glistening so brightly in my wake
Then my eyes descended upon her lips
Her velvety, smooth lips…
arouses an esoteric aura within
an aura undefined
Glenn McCrary, 25 october 2012
Voluptous Gothic
In the absolute black of night
Was when she seized my eye
It appeared as if she had been glancing at a ceiling
That had been adorned by cobwebs for years
Living in the element of inquiry
Wondering if the light shall ever glimmer upon her frame
Her eyes as bleary as they are profound exhibited poems
Epic poems beyond that of humanity’s comprehension
Each tragedy that she had ever been dealt
Was present amongst each page
As within her skin they had turned
Glenn McCrary, 25 october 2012
Happenings
Along this strange venue I tread
Arcane a man of many
Concocted from what is deemed to be
The most unimaginable beliefs
Each direction guided by a thought
Happens to have a mind of its own
Conspiracies and schizophrenia harmonize
Like loved ones who’d never forsake I
One would gather that darkness
Is like an oblivious obscurity of validity
My brain has molded around that thought
Glenn McCrary, 20 october 2012
A Red Minute Trois
‘Twas a rather sodden evening
When the congregation had begun departing
Pending an austere twister
I know not if it was deliberately
though for some reason the bright red hue
That comprises your vehicle ensnared my eyes
it was in that moment when your lovely smile
Rose to prominence in the
Gradually diluting presence of the rain
Chuckles sprang forth in merriment
Glenn McCrary, 19 october 2012
A Red Minute Deux
Invested was what seemed like infinity
There I was peering at such iconic symbolism
Indefinite filaments of unprecedented passion ascend
I battle to suppress said ardor though perpetually it heightens
Each time her face shall in the sanctuary that comprises my reveries
Sacrificed I am to perish within her sexy, inviting aroma
That illustrates my voracious carnality
Glenn McCrary, 17 october 2012
EQuiNOx
A distinguished symbol of the age
Happened before my eyes
The lustrous blend of colours
Births a new definition
Brandishing oaths in less words
Than expected to be composed
The unprecedented passion
Causes me to scream internally
Her eyes emulate a saga yet to be told
Although each chapter presents a new beginning
Glenn McCrary, 15 october 2012
The Invitation
Fondled by the temptation of an autumn sunset
Erect stands a woman in the cradle of such potent winds
Quite dashingly contributing colour to the scene
Her silky, black dress enveloping her ever so tightly
Composing the shape of an inviting taboo
Whilst refraining all comely sounds of vernacular
How her lips whisper things of which previously I knew not
Sign o’ the times
Glenn McCrary, 13 october 2012
Titanium Roses In Her Pocket
And later that evening she sauntered
along the halls of the cathedral
with callous egoism jingling in her pocket
whilst chuckling of undiscerning humor
I know not the definition of such folly
though strangely I must attest that I weltered in rapture
When she evanesced with no concern for a colloquy
Glenn McCrary, 11 october 2012
Stabmesexy
Twas yet again the occasion had occurred
When we had acknowledged each other’s existence
Though we paused at the chance to address the issue
‘Twas in that moment of panic I had asked to speak to you
But you had other miscellaneous missions to frequent
No words were pronounced of your return
I coveted to enunciate of a keepsake I had composed
Yet you shunned away my generosity
How for a moment I yearn for your ear
You’d cease to be dazed by such fallacious theories
Glenn McCrary, 10 october 2012
Letters To Lilith
Oh, duchess when you ascend your neck
To scrutinize the skyline
Were you aware that you could discover?
The very marvel that for years you so yearned?
Oh, duchess did you think it feasible
That you could matriculate the novelty ‘tis amour
Did you?
Open your eyes alluring one
Shan’t be a reason to averse your devoirs
though you must dismember all that bleeds
Glenn McCrary, 9 october 2012
A Red Minute
Whilst a medley of us lied upon the flocculent canvas
An ever so comely sound had been shaped of the void
‘Twas the sharp sound of supremacy coming to pass
Though honored am I to speak
Upon the sweltering passion
‘Twas an invitation like none before
Scourging these bones of the dark
Of which they habitually drink
The quaking quite mollifyingly
Renders a sense of solidarity
To unfathomable tribulation
Glenn McCrary, 9 october 2012
Sjöfn
And again surfaced that smirk
Glinting ever so alluringly in my wake
Kindling an effigy of suspense
Amidst the faces that evening
With the minutes I dissolved
As classic fairness advanced
Forsaken was I to saturate within carnality
Could such a reason exist
For such monumental idolatry?
Could such possibilities exist
For the sake of emasculating warriors?
Glenn McCrary, 5 october 2012
Bradypodion pumilum
For each morning that spawns
I evade your virulent dialect
Each syllable born of your orifice
Is embellished by grisly tones
As helpless I am forsaken
To canker in ire
To awake is to honor the culture of the universe
Though your miserly revelry ceases to deliver amity
Whilst your exploits wither into oblivion
Glenn McCrary, 5 october 2012
Orphan Manor
Whilst I sauntered the halls
Her face surfaced before the lantern
That beloved grin an abstract design
Though she was settled behind glass
Fashioning the imagery ‘tis window shopping
Presenting the proclamation that she’s without a price
I covet not for alienation to shape us
I hunger for a sense of harmony
For us to never have spaked of tragedy
Glenn McCrary, 3 october 2012
shaking.black.freaks
Shan’t one discern
Between a reverie yet to conclude?
And unprecedented retribution?
Society may think it dexterous
To berate the triumph of others
And reprimand them
in exclusive and dire scrutiny
Though such a sycophant
Becomes aroused by
The fashioning of controversy
An indictment is questionable
Glenn McCrary, 3 october 2012
The Violinist’s Vendetta
As the hail makes love to the streets
I query its vendetta with I
What had I done to be defamed
By such unforeseen chagrin
The sound ‘tis the climax of the horizon
Echoes that of a violinist scarred by sexual mortification
The harmony plays in quite a lovely manner
Could hook one quickly if not careful
Appeased I sit in a wooden, black chair
And saturate in fine rock refrains
A pacifying compensation if I may say
A scripted version of hell
Glenn McCrary, 3 october 2012
I, Square
Oh, how such calligraphy glints
In the waking sun ‘tis betrayal
Post-ejaculatory nocturne
Such crucifixion of misery
Performs as an aid to impending tragedy
And obliterates the art ‘tis suicide
so that infants be branded with
a mark of amour that is profound
In each and every star lies
a distinct honor undefined
In due time all shall awaken
Arousing armistice
Glenn McCrary, 29 september 2012
6 Trillion Dollar Condom
The callous hands of clock towers
Age the ignominy that has become
The very face known as American society
6 billion pricks occupy every anus
Engraved within this universe
And the one prick who appeared distinctive
Behaved like that of an equal associate
What are such clocks good for
Minus aiding the counting of fiendish nightmares
Foolishly published by such an inviting succubus?
I rue when I had first acknowledged her existence
Glenn McCrary, 29 september 2012
Tachyonic Antitelephone
Fuck! Her choices establish tragedies
The key that fosters felicity long since marred
But now she’s found the freedom she so passionately sought
It was gifted to her as a straight jacket
In the colour of her choice
Every evening she sleeps within such paraphernalia
As the solace pacifies her in classic tones
With the cushioning characterized as a mirror
Emulating the shape she has so flawlessly taken
Two years in the knapsack
And to your very eye I am the poster child
For used condoms and tampons
Am I not worth more than fish?
Glenn McCrary, 29 september 2012
A Thousand Funerals
During the pre-evening liturgy
Betwixt a shabby stall
Irate I sit scribing seasoned verses
Silent as an infant in production
Whilst the slaughtering of pacifism
Across the universe ‘tis my soundness
Perforated by the eerie current
‘Twas delivered via the vapors of her breath
Curtly, such graphic memories gnaw the very bones
Of what I had thought to be timeless romance
Though once again I’ve been forsaken
To drink all ‘twas left unsaid and unknown
Glenn McCrary, 19 september 2012
M.E.A.N.
Tones of depreciation eject forth estuaries of spittle
Causing unsought billows of panic
Why can’t society be more appreciative
Instead of dejecting them
And divesting them of criticism
Communication is significant
Yet people omit it’s qualities
Glenn McCrary, 19 september 2012
Famous Nightmare II
For a while I fancied revivifying our alliance
Though I have satiated the cavern
I take honor in the many publications and poems
That years and years from I will compose
Even though you are a dogmatic hellion
You shan’t shun the clasp of fame
Glenn McCrary, 19 september 2012
Leafless
A role is fashioned for each of us homosapiens to portray
Though what if such a role ‘twas fashioned
by a fallacious organization of fabulists
Who decode billions of renditions of one monograph
for narcissistic purpose of monetary gain?
Naked fidelity shan’t be placed upon a hollow existence
Nor should verses be fibbed
Why can’t religion be real again?
Glenn McCrary, 19 september 2012
Sour Scars
My bones take the shape of guitar strings
a genesis froths a sequence of irrevocable refrains
Like eradicated jars along the brink of some nameless beach
It matters not a damn to sulk in sour memories
When all they are adept of doing evolve into forthcoming tribulations
resulting in yearly scars as well as the razing ‘tis lifeless amour
Glenn McCrary, 19 september 2012
Five Finger Death Punch
Treading along the avenues of iniquity
The downbeat of mollifying choruses alleviate my ears
Ambivalent logic scours my cerebellum
A frown composed of disdain surfaces
Whilst I seek a hero amongst such strange clouds
I covet to taste of the superlative pleasures ‘tis Mother Earth
Though I am left to contemplate when next my happenings
Glenn McCrary, 9 september 2012
Culiseta longiareolata
Dirt is what she does.
She injects and she ingests and she retreats.
She sears and she is branding the boulevards.
We’ll reap what we never desired.
Glenn McCrary, 7 september 2012
Beatbox Of A Satanist
Is the occultist aware she’s daring,
That she carries the shadiest orifice?
No.
She just defecates and scars remain.
Akin to the likes of an unmarketable comedian:
passion on one side, narcissism on the other.
‘Twas unforeseen.
Enemies working together,
Exchanging callous banknotes.
No one had foreseen this.
Eventually, she’ll cripple
from depositing and withdrawing.
But no one knows.
No one can ever know.
Glenn McCrary, 7 september 2012
Level V
Rancorous, lethargic, avaricious, psychotic,
Enthusiastic, mystified, serene
Does a planet?
A galaxy?
A multiverse incorporates
Secrecy, security, nine or more parallel universes
Eyes are awake
Glenn McCrary, 7 september 2012
7’s & 8’s
Wake up, her magnetism is perpendicular
Concentrate, renunciation isn’t an option
She coveted her beauty to be paramount
It may not lie adjacent, or acute, closed nor open
Yay, Nay, or,
A night, a century, dissolves from her
Shedding a seventh layer
Shedding the eighth
The understanding of such linear artistry proves to be facile
An acquittal, forthcoming
New art, new liberty
The acquittals continue to waltz
Like multiple grooves shaped by the sand
Into apples and cherries
Glenn McCrary, 5 september 2012
Microsex
A contortionist achieves climax
Her clitoris saluting her lips
From within an envelope of pleasure
Causing local beatitude
Though one may query such enthusiasm
Her clitoris cooing mollifying concert
Waltzing against the hips of autumn temptation
That she was vibrant
Or that she was barren
Or that in artistry
This plausible microsecond
The happening of dawn quite imminent
And a canary perched upon a fence
Lavish us with falsettos
Each and every organism throughout the universe
Itself just below its conception
And love equalizes the balance
Glenn McCrary, 4 september 2012
Universal Fuckery II
Acquiring the libel of critics
Internally at times I bleat
And snarl, brow furrowed
Like an actress when filming a major motion porno
“Originality bid us farewell” screams my advanced intellect
Nothing more than a social outcast who lacks a catalyst
(though thankfully the universe is an object of open ended philosophy)
The voices of such a generation fail to carry notes
Beyond the octave range
Only Canis lupus familiaris feces, in its rejuvenated appearance,
Delivers abstract imagery
What was once honorable has dissolved into media sewage
Virginal darlings now dissolved into marionettes
Shall my poems alienate the public
They shall at least demonstrate bravery
Glenn McCrary, 24 august 2012
The Colour Of Mockery II
Callous sentences saunter into the quaintest of landmarks
Capturing the cinematography that is the mockery of felicity
At times I ponder on whether its veins quake with fear
In lieu of the eyes marring her with bullet holes
Whilst humming commemorative memories
That now lie lifeless just as the wealth of their youth
Glenn McCrary, 24 august 2012
Bullet Eater
The fearful varmint that claws at your callous origin
Caused a ceaseless chain of nightmares
A simple faux pas contrives a generation of idiocy
The toes of a screaming infant dwindling in our wake
Loyalty had not yet bared a face of existence
Atonement was never a question but a riddle
Heed your forthcoming capers
For they just may deface you
Glenn McCrary, 24 august 2012
Cinematography Of A Memory
Oblivious to arcane mishaps
That molest the bones established by society
The echo of her tattoo sings of a great depression
Each time the memory surfaces,
A twisted grin is born
Perhaps this could be the preluding window to existential purgatory
Glenn McCrary, 19 august 2012
The Murder Diaries V
Establishing the oblivious existence
That were her distant echoes
She seared my skin by way
Of her screaming eyes
And just seconds away
from marrying the anus of death
to spare my life was damn honorable of her
Glenn McCrary, 19 august 2012
The Murder Diaries IV
She mirrored the shape of a psychotic hooker
Tattooed by hickeys and bruises
Written upon the pages of her breasts
In lieu of her nightly pearl tuxedo
The teeth protruding from her vagina
Began hissing and spitting at me
The war was far from over…
Glenn McCrary, 19 august 2012
The Murder Diaries III
Raspy, sexified tones began tightening
Like nooses around my throat
A trail of corpses appeared nonexistent
To millions of natural eyes
Catastrophically I was yet another victim
In the pages of murder that she had composed
She must be found…
Glenn McCrary, 19 august 2012
The Murder Diaries II
This tongue broadcasts
hushed tones of satanic nature
And strange snickers
resounded throughout the canyons
Chanting nocturnes as irking
as a rhino horn against a chalkboard
yet the prophecy remained clear
I had to find this beast…
Glenn McCrary, 19 august 2012
The Murder Diaries I
In the billow of mercurial cataclysms
Sharp as the pyrexia of igneous pebble stones
Upon my hindquarters I was cast
The circles that were established
Branded my skin with cancerous nightmares
Crafting the twisted love song fucking my throat
Through the lavender haze I tread
Threatened by a medley of conundrums
The tongue legislating such echoes
‘tis the element I so daringly seek
Glenn McCrary, 31 july 2012
Fuck God
For humans who, from the beginning
Were first originated,
Degenerate into sand,
It is known not,
Of their creator’s whereabouts,
And knowing is further refrained,
Though it is not entirely known,
That he exists,
Though few find him,
Worth sparing,
A secondary glance.
Glenn McCrary, 31 july 2012
The Womanizer
To him all women are hallowed
minus those that hustle themselves.
How instantly and cunningly
they commit truculent acts
yet never bribed by mischief
except by rendezvous.
Glenn McCrary, 31 july 2012
The Colour Of Mockery
Furnished from the beginning with superlative demeanor,
You sway no haughty elbows,
And murder all colours of mockery,
Refrain from staring down the bridge of your nose,
As well as the egocentric adults
That bear the sharpness of a minotaur horn.
Your own sanctuary
Is crafted from knife fissures and bullet nests,
The nightmare of cathedrals;
Though existence must be slain
In order to fashion birth, yet
existence is never slain for applause
Glenn McCrary, 31 july 2012
Wizard: Legend Of Literary Titans
Free from the sins of the America’s bureaucracy,
you were always indifferent
To jealousy,
Yet your poetry
Has fostered poets
To compose legendary verses,
And, though you are distinguished from,
The majority of your contemporaries
The wounds of the broken have been mended.
Glenn McCrary, 31 july 2012
2Face: An Imagistic Opinion
It has been stated that on judgment day
We may be given not the shape of diamonds,
But of bones.
Plausible now, more than before
In our last days we shall infuse as one
(To mirror the imagism of each other),
Yet display no parallelism
Could that be why we were
Disgusted by daring faces,
Yet never revolted?
Glenn McCrary, 26 july 2012
Skyscrapers
We mourn atop skyscrapers
As our forefathers
Mourned amongst baobab trees in Uganda
Because we have been forsaken,
It is judgment day,
And we’re fearful.
Glenn McCrary, 26 july 2012
Lovingly As I
To cast an infinite chamber
In certain places of the moon,
To twist and to waltz
Till the black night fades.
Then soften at sultry morning
Underneath a baobab tree
While afternoon stroked the horizon lightly,
Lovingly as I ---
A strange yet, delightful vagary!
To cast an infinite chamber
In the beloved areola of the sun,
Waltz! Twist! Twist!
Till the brisk day is done.
Soften at fallow night…
Underneath the baobab tree…
Night stroking gingerly
Lovingly as I.
Glenn McCrary, 26 july 2012
Halfbaked
A wild posy
Shriveled and perished.
The evening-warriors chuckled ---
But the day-warriors fussed.
A wild posy
Shriveled and perished.
Glenn McCrary, 26 july 2012
Jane Valentine III
She rises
In the darkness,
This burdened woman
Shrunken by
Weariness and regret
Like a black rose in winter
In the icy rain,
Like a wind-swept rose in winter
That has yet to raise its neck
Again.
Glenn McCrary, 26 july 2012
The Originals
In the California mines
There are 300,000
Native Americans hustling.
What type of verse
Could you possibly
Craft from that?
300,000 natives
Hustling in the
California mines.
Glenn McCrary, 25 july 2012
Brave II
O, Mighty King of Igneous and Summer,
Cape the earth within an icy quilt
And freeze the damned in their cots.
All without enough covering
To remain warm,
Yet enough food alone to remain strong ---
Freeze, mighty King.
Let their knee caps grow frigid
And their lives cease to exist,
Then tomorrow
They’ll wake up in some fancy mansion of nothing
Where trivialness is everything and
Everything is trivialness.
Glenn McCrary, 25 july 2012
Autobiography Of A Playwright”
I was once an actor,
But the lawyer came.
I was a fighter, too,
But the referee came.
They chased me throughout the forest.
They kidnapped me from the wilderness.
I was stripped to skin.
I faced death.
Now I am fenced
within the prison of helotry.
Now I cluster with the billions ---
Fenced within the prison of helotry.
Glenn McCrary, 25 july 2012
Breakfast Before Daybreak
Her lips are as pink as the plume of a flamingo,
Her eyes are like fair, seasoned pine apples.
I love her.
Her curves are like annular eclipse, a sable daybreak.
I love her.
And her skin is the vanilla of a maple leaf in summer, but a sexier color,
I want to touch her.
Glenn McCrary, 25 july 2012
We Made Love To The Beat Of The Pages
We have eternity
Lambent before us
Like a snowflake.
Mortality
A one night stand,
A forged signature.
And the slender stream of ink
Slithers along the pages we found.
We write!
Glenn McCrary, 25 july 2012
The Text Message
I’m waiting for my lady, ---
She is Euphoria.
Say it in a naughty tone.
Say it teasingly if you please.
I’m waiting for my lady, ---
Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012
Lawless
Whoah! Eureka!
The thieves are-a-comin’!
Whoah! Eureka!
The thieves are-a-comin’!
An elderly Caucasian woman screams
In the darkest corner
Of the cannibalistic church
An elderly Caucasian woman screams
The thieves are-a-comin’!
Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012
Snake Language
The day is majestic,
So the passions of strangers.
The clouds are majestic,
So the diligence of strangers.
Majestic, also, is the moon.
Majestic, also, are the time tables of strangers.
Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012
Brave
I do not love you,
For your eyes are spiteful, too.
I do not love you,
Your eyes are revolving lasers of ugliness and destitution.
Though why the desire to smite me,
O, brave ones,
Why the desire to smite me?
Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012
Shall We Beget Sweet Summer Love?
Shall I beget a memoir of your fairness?
Shall I compose words about you?
Shall I beget a poem that will live through
Centuries and sculpt your history in the poem?
Glenn McCrary, 21 july 2012
Hello, Fearful One
A petite Midwestern raised child
Arrives at a Southern institution
And fears the labors of speaking
With the Southern children.
At first they appear favorable,
Then they taunt her
And call her “cracker.”
The Southern children
Disdained her, too,
Eventually.
She is a petite white girl
With an oval white face
And solid pink blouse.
Regarding this
Petite, fearful child
She might craft a story
Devising tomorrow.
Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012
Red Sense
How thick and blunt is the eclipse tonight!
How thick and blunt and deathly black
Are the slanted bones of the eclipse!
Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012
Advance
We sprint,
We sprint,
We shan’t tarry within the shadows!
Give us the light.
We were not fabricated
To be degraded,
To be heavily degraded,
And narrow volume of respiration
That these lavender things have invented.
We sprint,
Oh, Lord,
We sprint!
We must rend these shadows,
We must find the light.
Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012
Amy's Eyes
Oh, Spanish maroon!
Oh, lucky ladies of the valley!
In a Memphis tavern
Three short-necked entertainers astound.
A dancing vixen who’s eyes are daring
Ascends a skirt of silken bearing.
Oh, singing maroon!
Oh, lucky ladies of the valley!
Were Amy’s eyes
Of the first castle
Just a tad too daring?
Was Pocahontas flamboyant?
In a corset of ivy green?
Oh lucky clover
Oh, lucky maroon!
Oh, Spanish ladies of the valley!
In a revolving tavern
Three short-necked entertainers astound.
Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012
Shapes
The florid footprints of hussies
seeped upon the black rug.
The florid heart of a saint crippled at the
fallow door.
The laughter of a sober count guised the howl
Of a callous whore.
count,
Composed a strangely shaped finger,
count your curses, ---
And Death was the raincoat I wore.
Glenn McCrary, 20 july 2012
Autograph The Night
Her light, peach face
Is like a blossoming tulip
On an infant stem.
Those kind come expensive in Memphis
So they say.
Glenn McCrary, 17 july 2012
Godhead
That freedom is a fine goddess
Is a keepsake to which we Americans are wise.
Her toga conceals timeless wounds
That once perhaps were lies.
Glenn McCrary, 17 july 2012
Viper’s Kiss II
What is there within this vagrant lady
That I can neither hear nor see,
That I fail to acquire or fathom
And still it beckons me?
Is not she but a blood stain in the moon---
A bit of water, plasma, enzymes?
And yet she plays upon her bong a truculent tune
As if Karma had not kissed her with his fangs!
Glenn McCrary, 17 july 2012
Sun Dance
Now,
In September,
When the morning is a vast awakening
Filled with orange clouds,
And fractured shafts of sun-shimmer
Descend before the earth
Am I too young to see the gods dance?
To find them I am inept.
Glenn McCrary, 17 july 2012
Climax Beat
The gentle beating of her breasts,
The gradual beating of her breasts,
Gentle… gradual
Gradual… gentle---
Rouses your blood.
Waltz!
A hymen-veiled virgin
Tip toes carefully into a
Forest of suspense.
Tip toes carefully… gradually,
Like the beads of sweat upon her temple---
And the breasts beat,
And the breasts beat,
And the gentle beating of the breasts
Rouses your blood.
Glenn McCrary, 17 july 2012
Famous Nightmare
Nightmare-strippers,
Marijuana-dealers,
Harlots,
Loud cacklers in the hands of Karma---
My enemies.
Car detailers,
Stewardess girls,
Bridesmaids,
Dice-shooters,
Chefs,
Waiters,
Ballerinas,
Stars of porn flicks
Owners of liquor stores,
Article writers,
Athletes in tinsel town
And violinists in circuses---
Nightmare-strippers all,---
My enemies.
Marijuana dealers all,---
My enemies.
Harlots---
God! What harlots!
Strippers---
God! What strippers!
Strippers and harlots
Harlots and cacklers.
Cacklers?
Yes, cacklers… cacklers… cacklers---
Loud-mouthed cacklers in the hands
Of Karma
Glenn McCrary, 14 july 2012
Paul Revere
There’s a ripe, young sun
Swinging the gardens today.
There is a sprightly, young sun
Touring the faces of revelry.
There’s a sheepish, young moon
Carrying the smirk of a virgin
Awaiting her Paul Revere.
Glenn McCrary, 14 july 2012
Mr. Fonnereau & Ms. Faucon
The careless, chuckling cheetah
With spittle on its mouth.
The skinny faced cheetah,
Emotionally frail,
Dreadfully trained.
The infant-minded cheetah
Sprinting into the black lake’s tears
For the skeleton of a vagrant.
Ball and chain,
elation, nature, elation,
The boys, the girls, the stars
The cigarette-scented cheetah.
Foxy, like a woman,
Alluring as a bronze skinned streetwalker,
Sexy, wicked
Cinnamon-lipped, noxious---
That is the cheetah.
And I, who am human, would love her
But she claws my face
And I, who am human,
Would lavish her with rarities
Yet she forsakes me.
So now I seek the husky---
The cold-faced husky,
For she, they say,
Is a politer courtesan,
And in her house my troubles
May escape the hex of the cheetah.
Glenn McCrary, 14 july 2012
Nothing
The stars still cast their subtle glow
Through the greyish black churchyards that we know;
Next morning’s fate lies unknown
Before the dawn.
The clouds still drift just as before;
The canaries still chirp outside my door,
Yet suddenly appears the taste of nothing.
The sky is indigo and the blue jay sings;
The children catch fireflies by their wings
Though I am somber.
Throughout the universe no pleasure can exist;
Mirth turned her face at me,
Ever since you fled.
Glenn McCrary, 14 july 2012
Taste II
I love to see your big, brown eyes,
Glinting in the night;
I love to see your lips quake,
As we dance with satellites.
I love the passionate innuendo
Descending into my ears;
In all hours of the morning young,
The sound of your breath I hear.
I love the landscape of the nude
Between these sheets of ceaseless passion
But better than all these things, I guess
I love my lady love
Glenn McCrary, 13 july 2012
Strange & Sound
This young fawn
Who saunters along the town
Soliciting her slender compassion
Month in, year round
Has known tall, dew doused forests
And the moon has made
Her skin quite fair
Glenn McCrary, 13 july 2012
99¢
When the dastardly woman Helena
Arrives to collect our souls
And cast them into the lake of purgatory,
She ponders whether she shall find
The soul of a young, zealous woman
Worth more nickels of eternity,
Than the areolas of a haughty bastard?
Glenn McCrary, 13 july 2012
The Ace of Spades
The woman was a water bearer:
Alluring as the refrain of midnight,
Alluring like the skin of an atheist.
The woman had been a prisoner:
Mandela urged me to furbish his door steps.
I waxed the knees of California.
The woman had been a singer:
All the way from Vancouver to Abbotsford
She carried her battle anthems.
I crafted time.
The woman had been victimized:
The Russians charred every last speck of confidence.
They hung her before The Black Sea.
The woman was a water bearer:
Alluring as the refrain of midnight,
Alluring like the skin of an atheist.
Glenn McCrary, 13 july 2012
Origami Legends
She has a brain full of legends.
She has a whole heart full of legends.
Shaped by summer’s yellow collar bones
She caresses a sepia hued image to her breast
And recites memories in her sleep.
Legalistic hellions
Stalk her sharp scent,
And legalistic hellions
Seek to kidnap her ,
And legalistic hellions
Cry illustrious hymns along canyons
Speaking amongst themselves
Into the jagged patterns fashioned by
Her legends.
And the sepia hued image, frozen
Insinuates that her legends were honest legends.
She knows they were never born of classic fiction at all,
But that they had been fostered by her own life.
The sepia hued image lies lifeless
During a subtle, summer evening
Reciting memories.
Glenn McCrary, 13 july 2012
Loaded
I’ve befriended lovers:
I’ve befriended lovers daft as harlots cleaved
like the glass in extrinsic films.
My sagacity has matured like adult freesia.
I had been saturated within tasteful ages.
I built fences near the trestles of disbelief.
I sought to sip of the finer fountains.
Yonder echoes throughout Canada I had heard
Touring along the avenues of Abbotsford
Nature testifying betwixt an epicurean draught
I’ve befriended lovers:
Daft, apathetic lovers.
My sagacity has matured like adult freesia
Glenn McCrary, 10 july 2012
Makita XXVI: 1 Way Street
Dearly beloved why ever
Are you so passionate to seek?
an avenue of fraudulent dalliance
When a plethora of amour
Screams before you
Forsaking me to ponder
When the page shall revolve
Glenn McCrary, 10 july 2012
Makita XXV: Question Mark
And these memories
in which my arteries are doused
Though they spaked
in dexterous tones of carnage
seeking foreign sanctuaries
beyond the hallowed elation I propose
Yet half-wittedly she saunters
into baneful gambit
Glenn McCrary, 10 july 2012
Makita XXIV: Fire Snake
Those eyes that flicker in yonder light
flourish like snakes during summer nights
So seasoned and cultured unshaken they float
Though none can tell what’s pristine or trite
‘tis often I ponder what spare
pages you sought to share
A question mark be thy beauty
such a being surmised as rare
her smile benevolent as summer’s breeze
Upon my knees nimble I appease
And in that time I recollect
These memories that are elder keys
Glenn McCrary, 10 july 2012
Makita XXIII: Death’s Bible
Sharp and branded was the hunger
Thundering within my paunch
guised as the quintessence
spearheaded by life
‘twas the claw cast
from death’s marred teat
Heard within yonder valleys
Whence I sought freedom
Glenn McCrary, 7 july 2012
Makita XXI: Century Chasers
Ever since the hour when first we met
your dearest memory my silhouette
the face of my greatest triumph
enamored by the pleasant elation
‘twas the brush of your skin
which fostered a phenomenon
Before a generation
We conquered centuries with ease
Ever seeking to discover the genesis
‘twas love set anew
Glenn McCrary, 7 july 2012
Makita XXII: Cocaine Memories
Awaiting a light
To guide us down the path
that composed our eternity
For no woman I have swayed
In quite the fashion as I for you
For no woman could I have swooned
as I swiftly as I for you
and if ever there was a chance
to seize the pendulum
‘tis your constant amour
Then the risk would equalize
The value you illustrate
Latest comments:
25 april 2024
violetta
Dziękuję:)
25 april 2024
Bociany są takie ufne:)
25 april 2024
Yaro
Bardzo kobiecy wiersz:) Pozdrawiam:)
25 april 2024
Bardzo prawdziwe słowa.
25 april 2024
eyesOFsoul
A nawet mniej.
25 april 2024
Piękne:)
25 april 2024
jeśli tylko
sympatyczny :)
25 april 2024
sam53
przychodzi czas i trzeba zdecydować...
24 april 2024
nadszedł ten czas..
24 april 2024
Weronika
Sekwencja ram obrazów z dzieciństwa.
24 april 2024
Fajnie się czyta, superowe pisanie.
24 april 2024
Adam Pietras (Barry Kant)
Dzięki! : )
25 april 2024
wiesiek
25 april 2024
Satish Verma
24 april 2024
Satish Verma
23 april 2024
Adam Pietras (Barry Kant)
22 april 2024
Satish Verma
21 april 2024
sam53
21 april 2024
wiesiek
21 april 2024
Satish Verma
20 april 2024
Satish Verma
19 april 2024
Satish Verma