Saturday 27 January 2024

Five Poems by Charles A. Perrone

 



Making Sense of Five Superior Questions

 

The singular Lords themselves approached me

upon my most recent awakening from slumber

in order to inquire about the known composition

of my own individual and private oneiric profile:

Are your dreams merely audio-visual in character?

Or are they also touch-sensitive and truly tactile?

Are they olfactory and sensibly in range of smell?

Perhaps tasty as well on the tongue that speaks?

And do you grasp the whys and wherefores of these

our pentagram of questions directed down to you?

 

I promised to reply

            the next time

                        I might awake

                                    from a full-fledged

                                                                 session

 


The Fate of Chosen Garb


The array of human figures in the environs surrounding

the municipal wharf is verging on the astounding

Fully bald emboldened gurus bounding forth

Nearly deaf musicians sounding tunes out

Square accountants rounding numbers loudly up

Padres in fresh robes founding new missions

Gardeners grounding wheat on planks of stone

Parents hounding their poorly entertained children

Resounding stellar shapes confounding dumbfounding

Frustrated astrologers left holding bags and pounding

on the lone fisherman's sweater


 

From a Distance


I spy a lone seagull

on an isolated rock

just off the sparse shoreline

and so do I go on to wonder

if such a winged creature

can actually feel loneliness

or perhaps even detect the

slightly damp solitude being

felt by a seeing observer


 

 

Memo to the Curious

 

So now I’ve decided to take

my cavorting to a new level:

 

I shall commence at once

to go gallivant with gaiety,

 

tripping about the planet,

around the world, wholly.

 

It’s up to me to plan it.

I am indeed quite able.

 

To execute the design.

To befriend fellow travellers.

To dress the part smartly.

To address surprise hosts.

To find a suitable end.

 

And mostly to expire with dignity

on the date indicated on the label.

 


 

Casting Fate



my daughter your son

our nephew their niece

and numerous others

more imaginary beings

coming forward to ask

for a role in the play

a place in the rough

draft of a communal tale

told by a flurry of flames

the pyre of this joyous task




Charles A. Perrone: born in the Empire State of New York, grew up in the Golden State of California, last studied in the Lone Star State of Texas, completed a career in the Sunshine State of Florida. Back on the Central Coast of California after a forty-year absence to think, write, play music...   


2 comments:

  1. Very grateful for the opportunity to be part of the journal!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Great poems, Charles...

    ReplyDelete

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