In forest found,
a javelin,
its haft bejeweled with beads.
Its feathered shaft unraveling
was hid amongst the reeds.
Such luck there was
to find this thing,
of mythologic worth,
whose perfect point and balancing
impaled the crooked Earth.
Author Archives: Lee Dunn
Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.
The encryption of Forever
It is something we must not touch
though we try
In endless Tetris,
we fondle the geometry of shapes
We lock them neatly into their places,
knowing we are yet far away from the answer.
The encryption of Forever
Time in the trillions.
The nerve of me
Sometimes
I get the horrors
when bodies are near me,
falsely imbued with menace.
But, I can dance with you.
Shop in the throng’s milieu.
Navigate the bellicose traffic.
Then home, where the heart is,
quiet (soft and still) is needed.
Don’t come near, my partner dear,
bear witness to fomented fear.
Phantoms seek attention here,
but keep their whispers from my ear.
The badness.
Where is home.
A rainy day
Tie-dye me a shirt
the purple and ochre of bruise.
I’ll salt it away in a drawer,
and save it for a rainy day
like this.
If only you knew what’s inside of me now,
you wouldn’t want to know me,
somehow.
33: A mantis in Atlantis
Under the sea
Under the sea
Life is much better
Down where it’s wetter,
take it from me!*
I was strapped to a stool
facing a desk
on a concrete floor
under a hot light
Behind the desk sat a Mantis.
Unusually large (s)he was.
Triangular visage.
Opaque eyes.
Saw-toothed arms, chitinous wings.
Elbows on the desktop. (do they have elbows)
It wanted me to play the shell game.
With actual shells.
It lifted the centre shell
and placed a copper key underneath it.
I knew it would fit my locks.
With a whiz whiz here
and a whiz whiz there,
it stymied my eyes.
Then chittered out some tiny bubbles.
I was to pick.
Left-hand one: empty.
Right hand one: The key! I had done it!
Whereupon it raised up a grassy palm,
stopping my reach.
Pointed to the centre one.
I lift.
It’s me, miniature me. Runs around with a puny scream.
Mantis makes a grab. Stuffs mini me into mandibles.
Reaches out with saw-toothed arms…
*Disney
Watch your tongue
So close, so comfortable.
Confident, and cocky.
The tongue to the teeth.
It whistles and wounds,
Tickles and titillates.
But, have an eye on avarice,
lest the teeth, with a bite, rebel.
And often check for unlearned lessons
and Egos prone to swell.
In print!
I’m pretty happy about that!
??
Don’t speak in questions,
my dear.
It makes one think you don’t have any statements.
And, after all, you don’t really need
our approval.
We know what you mean,
without the squiggles.
The story
Someday soon,
by chance foreseen,
I may be on the roadside,
with shaky and doubtful thumb.
Hoping to connect to anywhere.
Fearing to squander the story
that my Lord has yet to write.
Over-sensitive
Fresh red road stain
and I don’t know who it was that bled out
in sudden surprise
seconds left of innocent life
and that’s how it works,
this sadness.
Aremyfeetofftheground 