tones of wooded sprouting leaves
sing the measure of the trees

they festive lift, and rustle, clap,
or silent sway, filled with sap

gorged and sated, a jewel they glow
the color of the sign to go

full of chlorophyll, the grass
screams of life as through stained-glass

filling up with greenhouse gas
while oxygen to us they pass

surrounding us with vital health
vegetation is eart...

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a cutter came a crawling
in from a sailing day
and this heavy bark a bawling
up the fine palatial bay

a laddy sees a lady
as she jumps down from the stay
she were hollering and a hooting
she were a sight to see

Her voice could tame a tomcat
and her back a tigger too,
for she cut a fine figure
which struck the boys to blue

Yet this lad would not digress her,
though the boys were ...

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the psyches living in the presence shine
shine with fires of deep compassion
that flashing, pulse, like a strobe
to transport hearts about the globe

their secret is not hard to find
but every novice must commence blind
until an occupant descales their eyes
their boredom hides angelic skies

© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) Limericist 2021

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a tree is my healer
wholesomeness attends me
it gladdens me to lounge under its canopy
it shields me from the blazing sun
it whispers rustling leaves soothing me
aiding me to come to balance and perspective

my earthly sojourn is headed for decline
but you, without fail, stand stalwart for me
your roots, trunk, and branches brace me
despite the reverses I face
you are constantly prepare...

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a wild little elf
with wide-eyed wonderment
I was magically alive and frolicked

owner of a child's idyllic home
named Cherrybrook

all by himself,
dad constructed a house
in the late 1950s
from a dilapidated 1800s barn
 
our spread was situated on
eight acres of untamed sugarbush forests
with old wagon trails crisscrossing the woods
hung with grapevines
 
dad also made a lake wit...

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once upon a time
thought I would like to watch
a diligent spider
fabricate its nest to completion
but now, I had little choice
oh, the offensive beastie
climbed right into my ear

commenced wrapping its sticky
cobwebs around my unguarded mind
yes, this nightmare of all
my waking frights ambled about
rolling and knotting my thoughts in its
pinching, chop-stick, weaving fingers

old e...

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an African girl searches for her mother
she’s five– tied on her back, her brother
wanders the smoky streets, hungry
hides when rowdy black-booted men pass
they carry machetes and Russian AK-47s
amid wailing cries and sniping chatter
limbless bodies stare from bloated death
fishy-smelling sewage in pothole puddles
she stops to drink the rainbow-slicked water
giving a little to her fever-si...

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The famous funambulist,
Karl Wallenda said,
'The only place I feel alive is on the wire,'

in 1977, at age 72, he walked
 a 720-foot cable
(about 2 football fields) from the
Miami Fountainebleau to the Eden Roc Hotel,
170 feet above the ground
while crowds of people ogled
at his marvelous feat of balance,
he called this walk, 'the toughest stunt
of his life.'

but in Puerto Rico, onl...

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Remember the 60's?
the 20-year cold-war fatigue
and Lennon sang, 'back in the...' where?
and everyone grew their hair
and everyone else was 'square,'
and Woodstock was the right to 'bare,'

that was 50 years in the past
their teachings didn't last,
the world is going insane
trying to make everyone the same
& now the hippies sport a cane

soon, the net gets everyone typecast
tracked w...

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On a cart, paraded and wheeled
stripped naked and bared unconcealed
bystanders all want to stare,
heads turn to see a freak in a fair

to the shamanic altar is where
priest and priestess begin to prepare
the oblation is shaved of all hair
with declarations and with dark prayer

Self-respect takes a hit, isolation sure
blood will be let, the conjectured cure.
ceremonial knives meant to ...

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the quiet flame
the locus of the seated
the flush of self-surrendering prayer
the beaming presence enters
that calming light
that kind face
that dignifying contemplation
that draws us to our center
the carriage-clock stops
that one untimed moment
your eyes ablaze, fixed
for now, you perceive
as do I,
and nevermore the same
looking on the flame

© Brian Hodgkinso...

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we are
headed-for-the-wall crash-test dolls
if while licking the wounds of our past,
we are producing
our today,
which will buckle us into
an inevitable boom & tinkling glass
as sure as
one bang-up follows
blank-eyes

© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) Limericist 2006

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a minute orb of brilliant water
near to midnight keeps a star
as it sits still silent, there
on a blade, skyward stares
at the distant stellar glares

© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) Limericist 2008 

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this player knew a secret–
first, he was comfortable
in his own tortoiseshell,
hovering by the Circle K
next to the CVS and Pizza Hut,
but was more than savvy
that the Circle K
was where
the actual game was.

For late-night beer drinkers
and lotto gamblers could buy smokes
and beer up to 1 am
–there, he reclined with his striped tail
acting completely oblivious, resting
near the doo...

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epiphanies pinwheel translucent
overtaxing the lenient mind
accelerating the Midas crime
when skywaves ion forth a rhyme
one tier, a tear at a time,

far-flung in 747 four-four time
so lets all bug the jig Hibernian
a catalyst of perception
for the pharmacology of the limey lemon;

a Cesar wasn’t cut from bony spavin,
then, osteoporosis would lightning-strike an Olympian
this Pandora ...

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nibble, nibble, gnaw, then blowing, soothe
the giant sewer rat gnawing surgically removes
callouses on a street urchin’s foot, it grooves
while a boy sleeps sweating a nightmare of pains
his ghastly visions causing him muted screams
about his mother’s AIDS death, always dreams
patiently, the thirsty rat nibbles until he drinks
but then, a sudden pinch, the groggy child thinks
into the shad...

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Like her name
she’s a dear precious gem
pearly smooth as the ivory
adorning the callosal elephant that rumble
her birthplace, Makumu near Kisumu
smack-dab on the equator–
she was born there,

her blood pulses to the drums
of the Luhyia, Luo, Kisii, & Kikuyu–
–a girl of African soil
who once shaped its mud into dolls
sitting cross-legged speaking Swahili
with the children who were born...

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Her sapphire eyes mirror a glowing
wonder, mixed with loss and longing
beneath flowing auburn curls,
aquiline nose, and mystical
flawless features–
yet she suffers
alone

Her enticing lips are sweet as cider
extracted from the choicest ruby red apples
but can change vicious &
twisted
as a witch’s brew
her perfect teeth gleam proudly
as impeccable milky pearls– sharp
as her razor wit

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wandering,
watching,
following a floating
dandelion seed parachute dancing
on a friendly breeze,
in
grass-stained shoes

off to the left,
waxy purple, red, yellow, and pink tulips
caressing the nose with exotic perfumes
buzzing life
&
the odor of heating moist black soil
is airing a greening report of
fertilizing capacity

for
the sunning
landscape
and me

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In 1842, there was
a travesty called 'The Fiji Mermaid,'
composed from the torso
of a dried monkey corpse fastened
to the tail end of a fish--
Megaphoned mouths
of carnival barkers touted
the splendor of the
so-called 'genuine' mermaid
and seduced willing suckers
'born every minute,'
to dish out oceans of hard-earned money
just so they could gawk at the mocking
man-made monstrosity.

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Judicious hunter of the sky,
Corvid of Gehenna’s lie,
Helping wolves for leftover scraps.
Fights with rats the bulk of cats;
Jet-black wraith pick-pecks a bone,
Mynah-like, its voice intones.
Flicks a tilt? A questioning look?
‘Nevermore,’ answers the crook.

.

.

.

© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) –Limericist 2007/2021

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Rails clack, & the Indiana RR blares
midnight, or close to
History's brakes squeal brazenly in this town–
Sleepless and sweating
because of a kaput air conditioner, we toss
on a makeshift bed made from
a 2-inch foam mat atop
years of green plastic Walmart totes overstuffed
with your broken dreams.

You light up again from your window perch.
Meandering smoke permeates 3AM
(and me, a non...

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a thought came
twirling down
from a graying November tree,
one of the last to fall,
announcing,

'look at all my crusts of death,
and answer me.

--bipeds of clay,
do you doubt when
howling winds, ice, and snow
embalm
our root to rock,
that Spring will squeeze
out of us
baby buds again?

for each change
the wintertime will become warm,
the dark will lift,
the lawns will need a...

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This genesis season brought green back in style.
The cut-grass aroma rides with lilting breezes,
While rainy-day gray hints at an orange smile.
And the lyric rose robin and chickadee teases.
For the transition to a blazing gold summer,
Roasting weather makes all work a bummer.
While volatile plans cause dizzy sun-fever,
And ray-bathing people forget how to cover.

Carrying waxy pollen, th...

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on the edge of an enchanted forest
rests a do-it-yourself log cabin, a humble home
where chipmunks and squirrels romp
& trees reach up to stick twigged fingers
to the peaceful cotton turquoise sky

next door, a sprawling field sprouts
new corn nursing under an afternoon sun
the air is filled with an ambient symphony of
warbling, twittering, buzzing, barking–
children squealing wild with ...

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In the year of the Pig ...

Next to flowering peach trees, I took my stance with hands clenched.
Five paces away, a masked ninja set itself hooded in black silk.
Nearby, a splash, as an agile frog propelled into padded lily-pond.
Leaping toward the black figure, I launched, spinning my awkward drunken dance.

The misty purple mountain to the east wore a dark hat flashing low rumbles.
Mushr...

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I can know what to do today,
but should not act before I pray
skies are a bluer hue, this way

The worried world within me winds
demands my mind jumps into dreams
but I ‘m not driven at all by these

media entertains this scene
poisons our heads with kerosene
but at our Center, soon serene

…

..

.

© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) The Limericist 2021

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wake up
go to the computer
stare
open the blinds
stare
go to the bathroom
stare
grunt
wipe
back to the computer
look at the news?
no, a buzz-kill
stomach growls
*toot
boil water for tea
wash face
brush teeth
shave off stubble
put on underarm deoderant
steep teabag
put in two slices of toast
sit again
try thinking
don't want to think
try to think again
stare
sip tea
thawi...

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of course, a taste for the steal,
I mean, the tail just flew away

off mud and grass with loud coughing laughs
absconded a Kenyan thief,
fuzzy ringed flag
in its nozzle

sporting swifter than the
serval cat ever was

predatory indifference
taunted the dead nighttime hunter
propped up & tailless

here is what happened- a jammed bus
on 4 AM schedule careened
the hazy, dark, and trea...

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day, a fabrication
by one who made the space and time scheme
a sound back of occurrence
wraps up mutually every part of the theme

hereabouts with thoughts sparking the mind's screen
shows senses are nevermore alone
like a projector expressing a film
sentience zigzags with a one

back before the big-bang bursts a baby
a cognizance nibbles at itself
a big bird hovers over the hollow mes...

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I heard
   'when it's good, it's very good
   but when it's bad, it's horrid,'

which is the authenticity of the experience
isn't the sunny blue sky like God's smile
because of the dark frowns of yesterday(?)

don't you think it's also true
that the range of our moods
expose the vastness of our creativity(?)

the question then is, how shall we cope
through all the varying weather cond...

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went out for a walk
and a few steps saw
a pencil on the sidewalk
bent down and picked it up
a purple one like new

my strides took me
outside the bustling town
still ahold of the pencil
entered the forest and
wondered how to find paper
noticed some fast-food
the litter had strayed there
so tore it into strips but,
needed a writing surface–

followed a skunky marsh path
where a cru...

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it stalks with lidless eyes,
a watchfulness not resting
a cat staring down a bird,
it’s teasing, and it’s testing

slinking around, it gawks and waits
for its prey to trip and fall
the butcher wants to eat
to munch into a skull

it often threatened me
misery, it was vouching
on its haunches, biding time,
like a spring, it’s crouching

the ophidian is eying me,
so patient to predict
...

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Why this sense of loss and betrayal
locked behind prison bars of portrayal?
Intestines writhe, so pining for
relief from the blood that I abhor.

We were born as a fragment of a family
we were childlike, optimistic, and free
but we drifted away, shrewdly snared
in our sight, a chimera flared

The shade instigated hate into flaming
firing hate for themself and then others shaming,
overt...

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When our ships met again in open seas
our eyes met in the salt air
under gull cries
a vow was kept
testified by Neptune
for sundry nereids inspirited
the disclosure of secret love

you are gentle,
& the wise know you,
my feeling was divulged to you
but I bear the curse of graves
previous voyages
strong vessels with wooden bones,
scattered at the bottom

a sounder ship is awaiting
...

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maelstrom sky correlates to water
fomenting monumental ocean rage
lifts to the brink of heaven,
slicing down toward a yawning
swirling hole

navigation is futile now, gone awry
step outside to assess,
the water explodes onto the deck,
almost washing me out to sea
slaps me off my feet,
o, I don’t want to be
here

send up flares, call SOS
all voiceless by the sea’s fury
so alone, hel...

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blind by years
of eyeing what may
have been

a fixation to rectify
conclusions that left
gutted,

desperate in the pursuit
of improving a battered past
exhibiting no signs
of resuscitation

nurse this project
try to be precise, matching back
grimy bones

in phantom wasteland
pictures lacerate
with a jangling chain
ghostly voice

© –Limericist 2007

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Polar zephyr stab awake.
Horizon dark, opalescent haze
semi phase,  lune orb-shine
sparkle ice-dew diamonds.

Stirring begun, a new revolution.
The Dance shivering,  change…
Revive mauve vibration ring
into bird’s boisterous caw-ling.

Genesis echo, milky stellar space
I stand, enveloped measureless wonder,
moiling creation transformation.
Somaesthesia Process — I AM.

Thawed first-...

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On the isle of Ogygia,
the nymph Calypso reigned
where violets blanket the verdant plains
& fountains flow with sparkling waters

Calypso’s magnetism
transcended what any mortal could dream,
the daughter of Atlas held Ulysses prisoner
ravishing him for seven years
in nightly orgies

her kaleidoscopic beauty
inebriated him submissive,
but the night after night
of bacchanalian carousin...

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a little baby finger tickled
the large pot-belly,
but the heavy sleeper slept on,
out like a rock

the giggling tot
mischievously said, ‘again!’
wiggly-wormy fingers dug in,
but the loafer was idle,
simply a fat lump.

it’s well known, little kids don’t give up,
and indeed, not this little tyke
who thought the slumberer was playing,
pretending to ignore

with renewed resolve, the b...

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Amplify the greening stillness
Clarify the setting day
Beautify the chirping boldness
Dignify a song to play

Classify the singing earthlings
Deify the animating word
Rectify the tearing heartstrings
Specify the crying heard

Vilify all biting virtue
Ossify a bending bone
Electrify the burgeoning snafu
Unify the hearts of stone

Fortify the flagging creature
Solidify the melting co...

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there’s a time to walk
past twisting paths,
with sharp turns to the left–
give thanks.

a time
when steep ways slither
slippery with jagged jutting worries–
give thanks

when dark trees crowd out the light
of everything familiar until–
give thanks

when hiking partners decide
to turn back, leaving one to
hazard the journey, alone–
give thanks

when the music
is known only to th...

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'How are you - how's it going?'
I don't want to answer, but
'I'm good, thanks,'
it's a bald-faced lie,

Life is a jumble.
but, I join the customary
dance of mendacity

Making a report,
'I was in the hospital,'
'Oh yeah?' in her sing-song
'Tell me all about it,'

she pretends to cough
using the action to glance
at the cell in her hand
--eyes roll, then
she feigns caring eyes.

I...

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It stares at me with its sad-dog eyes.
Breathing on me. My frown defies.
What a moving look it has to beg
for a bone or a leg.

Feeding time is drawing nigh,
it'll have its feasting day
I gave it some scraps already
but wants more to bury.

The remainder shall be given later
but not while I'm still able,
until I'm all played out,
I will flick it on the snout.

© Limericist 2008

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So what, big whoops
I couldn't give two poops
for this fad of gross pretension
a cipher of dark invention
silly folks will rush to see
the brown-stained code of da Vinci
supposed secrets clandestine
teased as religiously unclean
quixotic quest for the Holy Grail
is nothing but a shaggy dog's tail
perhaps a junction of Jesus and Mary
they may have had a baby named Harry
And shouldn't th...

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A kind of enthralled insanity
entered the Circle-K to get a beer,
a forty-eight, and there she was:
a sensual flower arrangement
the eloquent reality of her shape
my out of sync sexuality
overtook me into staring with a numb
irrationality,
      she smiled at me.
frustrating with unrealized
intangible rewards that stirred
my praise of the creator who
created my indomitable libido
that...

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Maybe I should be worrying
because the pieces never fit
Perhaps I should be hurrying
because it's wrong to think and sit

But I suppose, to stop and think
is more crucial than to shrink,
for that is what I'd surely do
without the times when I withdrew.

Bills line up in a row
without the means to pay.
Should I allow my inner glow
to lose the light of day?

Is life just a chance to e...

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I can stop my worrying.
I can quit my hurrying
because I choose to rest.
to stop and to pray
an essential part
of any day.
 
When I sit and concentrate,
I clear my mind of all I hate
I just let it all go
trusting God for a change
then I choose what I need
to rearrange.

Let me show this practically.
it's not a vain philosophy
if a person at work
gets up in my face
then I pray inw...

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she flicks a crackling orange tip
careless eyes gloss over
with sucking blue leisure
spirit-fumes waft airborne
tendrils from a two-fingered draw
exhaling through pursed lips
the aroma of a thoughtless meditation
symbol of a shared peace
the ritual of letting down
last rite before a firing squad
truce from the pace

but—

the target of a new prohibition
saying, danger, danger
ban t...

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smiles this morning
brisk March sun, thirty-something
two fat Buddhas approach us
with robin-red bellies
full of Easter eggs,
& frozen worms
the beagle is buddha too
the two do not fly
Bella does not chase
she hardly hears, sees, or smells anymore
fifteen, she is a hundred and five,
but her tail still wags
top o’ the morning
to all

© –Limericist 2014

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