Lake Effect (Sonnet No. 13)

Copyright 2015 By Boinkaz

impassioned glaciers fled a sweating sun,
five lakes & megafauna in its wake.
ray-ban rocks, rippled hats tied tight to chin.
white carpetbags cast akimbo in chunks.

now new terminals & mist-muffled dams
flip ships from ports with pinball precision
in chains of custody 6 fathoms deep.
shorelines pass, browning mouths of broken towns.

like horse, mastadon, camelop fossils
they perished gazing at the horizon.
soon warm bayfront windows will open
to excavations of boats & swimsuits.

But for now lake affect snow crests to waves
and winter dead lie stacked for spring graves.

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Personal Cougar

Lyrics, Copyright 2015 by Boinkaz

🎼Autumn trees and laughing pouts
sun snaked hudson slinking south
And Staten Island Ferry dawns
This is a New York wave.

She moved like butter through her day
a clever lady twice my age
sidestepping the serrated grave
that comes with middle-age.

Past lives exist to still our minds
crossroads that we have crucified
a quiet cottage by the sea
or lovers lost on winds of time

Age roulette is played by some
love gamblers dream they’ll show the young
how passion’s knots are tied and slung
til tears and arches fall

Our ashes are the sweeper’s keep
and though our time is brief we seek
to sow at least what we have reaped
with one to love who loves.

Past lives exist to still our minds
crossroads that we have crucified
a noisy party on the street
with lovers lost on winds of time.

Horizontal desperation
this must be life’s sexless station
I look better dressed than naked
pater familias me.

I shot my personal cougar
with my sarcasm and my youth
my vicious tongue, a hunting gun,
I’m sure she never missed.

It’s true that now I know her plight
my darling cougar of the night
for I myself am known to prowl
among the dynamite.

New lives exist to still our minds
crossroads that we will crucify
with misdirection so well spent
with lovers on new winds of time🎼

The Abominable Loinfruit , #12

By Boinkaz

Arms lithe, hands writhe, kissed at tips to a mai

hair gilded straw over ivory skin.

You spun from beach rings of rucksack and toke

emerged from a puff of arabesque smoke.

Weak force this gravity that binds objects

past beauty to the teepee of the loins.

Ovoid dying star, your fertility

collapsed to sobs of supernova child.

I looked at the kid and hoped it worth it

to sacrifice our life and all, you know,

for dissolution and irrelevence.

Typical man, you said, rolling your eyes.

“I’ll get you for that,“ hissed our progeny.

“Dying, you’ll beg for the morphine you need.”

Copyright 2015 by Boinkaz

Too Clever by Half, Sonnet #11

by Boinkaz

men often weary of being The Man

an eternal cherished friend–not a stud

having an intellect seen as brilliant

means little when no woman will want you

there was this woman who like some women

wanted to be wanted by wild men

she was smarter than all others, but then

formaldehyde blinded men passed her by again.

once a man who faced a cancerous death

realized, as he drew near his final breath

that his intelligence made it all worse

the disintegration more frightening

intelligence is not wisdom x 3

the price we pay is pain of pedigree

Copyright 2015 by Boinkaz

Sonnet #2

Reblogged from christinastrigas.wordpress.com

Christina Strigas

If ever anything was true for me

It was your vision I once dreamed about.

It is the way you arose from the sea,

and entered my life filled with more self-doubt.

The changing direction of the soft wind

you walked with a confidence I once knew,

and left your footprints wavering behind.

You spoke with a whisper the faint breeze blew.

If ever anything escaped my life,

it was the words you uttered that bleak day.

You might as well stab my heart with your knife

than abandon my ocean so far away.

I scraped my knees on the sand covered beach

crying out for a touch, kiss or a reach.

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Sonnet #1

Reblogged from christinastrigas.wordpress.com

Christina Strigas

Let us think of a road far off our path,

where we could walk holding hands in full view

and not feel the hatred of other’s wrath

while the letters remain in my pocket too.

Love will be aflame along the grey road

and a subtle caress will become law.

On your back you will carry my full load

sensing the drive in me is purely raw.

The streets will be silent full of false hope,

while our fingertips travel each other’s skin.

If we walk away we will stop at the rope

reach the line that tells us we can never win.

Here is one last wanting thought for your ears

there never was a road filled with these fears.

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On Death, Sonnet Number 10

by Boinkaz

Death, I’ve smelled the retch of your fetid breath

in laundromats of lost humanity.

I hear your preachings on my daily trail

dum dum choirs sung to a running man’s back.

Some spend their lives in long hallelujahs

or behead us all with fanaticism:

We who dare dissent, who know not to know,

don’t deny the daunting and certain depths of our graves.

Gathered swells of tumbling bells will chuckle

at passings of them, hellbound for sassing.

But as there is comfort in religion

so there is in the husbandry of life.

Morbid wild hair I stroke, pockmarked cheeks I brush

I press my fingers to her lips and whisper: “Hush.”

Copyright 2015 by Boinkaz

Love Potion, #9

By Boinkaz

Magnolia trees bloom in air you pass through,

a sidelong glance of manicured flowers

pausing briefly on the road to summer.

It’s like your a travel brochure for France

Our thumb-flickered world band radio 

sings among the lemon grove tablecloth.

It squeezes good tendencies from me

you are the cause célèbre of our love life.

If I could package and sell this moment

I’d use skinny little crystal bottles

from that tourist trap island off venice

because customers might get too happy

Is it such a ridiculous notion

to make a million from our love potion?

Copyright 2015 by Boinkaz

Home Improvement, Sonnet #8

By Boinkaz

platinum cyclones of efficient light

ring the earnest blue planets of your eyes

as you speak I walk with you through tiny

terrariums under taped cotton clouds~

Home improvement is a spring intention

not a destination I’ll ever reach

You are so helpful on plasterboard choice

and I have a thing for women in bibs~

The truth is I never fix anything

I just call some guy who then rips me off

If beauty were a flat head screwdriver

then you already disassembled me

I ponder machinations of the heart

Love is like DIY, best not to start.

Copyright 2015, by Boinkaz

Valediction #7

By Boinkaz

as you dissolve into complacency

a state of being known as adulthood

carry forth the keystone in your young hearts

you, National Honor Society

inductees of the coming school year.

Your strangulation shirts and wobbly heels

show your dedication to dictums

that a student learns, a scholar has learned….

In this world obedience is held dear

bully-boys say the law is in their mouth

which is why you must disobey, for fear

your rights mean nothing-seize them from the louts

their violence is the only constant here

Scholars, this country is you. Wake up now.

Copyright 2015 by Boinkzz