Down Falls The Tyrant
Worthy of a sonnet or an ode
don't you think? I asked
the worthy citizen in rags
pushing a grocery cart
brimming with trash
down the dirt road-
all concrete and asphalt
long gone in the aftermath
of a great catastrophe.
The citizen screwed up
rheumy-red eyes at me
grinning a toothless smile
'Have a taste, mate? '
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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What is METAPHOR, anyway?
Quiet down, class
Mick wants to lecture you
about one of his pet subjects
METAPHOR
in poetry and verse
What's an analogy?
Is it a comparison? Of how many things?
How are they alike?
Synonyms - image, symbol, trope, figure
of speech, simile, allegory, correlation,
likeness, personification
You know these things?
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Forgotten Is Best
The heartaches and breakups posted
daily should engender sympathy, I suppose,
but something recalcitrant in me
says forget about it!
Get on with living your life!
Though I know that for some
bellyaching and tears in verse
is all they got to salve the sores!
Forgotten is often the best
way to go in this vale of tears!
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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This Morning I Awoke
Today I burn in the cold waters of grace
Tomorrow I drown in the hot flames of lust
Today I am what I am
Tomorrow I will be what I was
Waters of grace that burned me
Flames of lust that drowned me
We burned in the blue waters of the Pacific
We drowned in the black forests of Germany
Now we lie buried in the mists of time
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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And the Legions Came
They will come
massed in ranks
battalions and regiments
young men and women enlisted
in a good cause
led by a bespoke
charismatic charlatan
preaching eloquently
about something or other
we can all believe in
for those unpatriotic citizens
who resist the clamorous crowds
camps for re-education will spring up
like weeds in a vacant lot
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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The Beach at Acheron
The ship lay a hundred yards offshore
gently rocking to starboard
in rolling swells
Shining black sand on the beach
shards of mica glittering
in afternoon sun
dark shrubs scattered
on a rockstrewn hillside
trees twisted and gnarled
hover on the ridge
odor of cordite
and a barking dog
just out of range
a single raven
circling overhead
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Say Hello To Angela Carter
I did, and before I knew what happened
there I was living the woes and trauma
of 15 going on 16 Melanie in the America
of her life -
O! her America, her new
found land of mountain ranges,
and her secret valleys
open to the likes of Cortez or da Gama,
as she celebrates
doing cart-wheels and handstands-
and that's just the first paragraph!
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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When all is said and done, mes amis!
how much time do we spend
writing the best stuff we can
when the odds are against us
I could abandon punctuation
the use of simile and metaphor
a certain restraint as to mood
and just commit to logorrhea
like so many of us do
but I can't just surrender
poetry means something more
than just letting my feelings run
away with irony and good sense
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Dear Bhoilseabhach
If only I had the power to confer
on you and yours all power
to free America
from its greed
and the paltry middle class
to free America
from piggish bourgeoisie
to free America
from its war mongering
to make America
land of the free
and home of the brave
to make America
more spirited and generous
beautiful happy and heroic
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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Emily's Rule
Some versifiers on this site
think using obscenity
puts a zing
in lame lines
They think truth is as crude
and coarse as their writing
They abandon all standards
and ridicule rules
convinced of their righteous
intent
They ignore Emily's Rule-
'Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-'
Emily Dickinson's metaphor
for her lack of directness
is the stuff of poetry
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
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