Controlled Insanity

I fell off my rocking chair while reading Carroll Quigley.
We’re all nuts pushed too far out of one’s skull tree.

Hornets from hell march wearing hats that match.
Rabid dogs, hot under the collar, rush
for bats in the belfry, a stew in a lather,
round the bend at the end of a tight rope.
The same rope they’ve been chasing for eternity.

Cockeyed chickens with their head cut off wing off the deep end,
pale and beckoning for lemmings to join a fox in guarding a henhouse.

I am out to lunch to read Hamlet and eat fruitcake by a river filled with tea,
bought and paid for by the Moneyed One Eye.
(Sore oats and kissing her, the big new breeze in skis.)

- James Jason Dye

(featured in the poetry forum 02.08.11)

Metaphorical Meat Map

A metaphor is a meat map.
It’s meaty and it taps the meter.

Get up. Let up. Set up. Eat up.
The medal is on the mat mate.

I’ll meet ya at the moat with tape ;
dap in the mad and made-up.

The media is the metaphor.
Step to the tip top.

- James Jason Dye

(featured in the poetry forum 10.13.10)

Fairy-Time in Shadowland

A gasp from snow-white,
with pale idioms and might
from the fiddle fie faces
that took Hamlet’s oath
without any traces, IGNITES
a breath of fire in my soul
as I see the desperate loath.

A blizzard in shadowland
covered up what’s planned
which my silhouette discovered
frozen in the starry night.

In every butchered nation
every love is conquered
in the fairy time of night.

I’m on a map of tiger tears
now and forever sheared
by a gigantic orb of light!

And on- and on- anon-
cutting me from the sight.

In the twenty-first of centuries-
full of pointless miseries-
we’re all, we’re full of fright
under the aegis of the night.

So, the whole cob-world alone,
wearing a slumbering millstone,
goes topflight over the cuckoo nest,
for expert pilots felt this is best.

Comets cascade Bottomward-
dead like halcyon- out of order
like the fall of Rome- unbordered
with a bulls-eye on a crown of thorns
on mice and men with horns.

In royal costumes, angels fall
over the top; wherewithal,
we are authorized to persist
if written on a stranger’s list
below a stranger cosmos
below deep phantoms walking in their sleep
below the castle the drowsy sweep
afloat in the air whilst counting sheep.

- James Jason Dye

(featured in the poetry forum 07.28.10)

We Are Time

We are a Timeline of light,
A traveling sequence through space.
Most stars don't know we're here yet
and I wonder if they are still there.

- James Jason Dye

(featured in the poetry forum added 03.01.10)

Refusal to the Past and Future

I REFUSE TO GO AWAY. I REFUSE TO LET PASS TIME.
Because time will never last: I refuse to let it pass.
I refuse to go away. I refuse every single day.
Because time will never last: I refuse to let it pass.
I refuse to wait. Without time I'm never late

for my queen, and I'll never sleep. I'll always be
AWAKE. I refuse to go away. I refuse every single ray.
Because time will never last: I refuse to let it pass.
I'll never flower. I refuse every single hour.
Because death is very sour: I refuse every hour.

I have found the cure for time: never let bells chime.
The past must never be the future. It must always be now.
Now think about what's going on. It's time we won.
It's time we lose. And I REFUSE! I REFUSE!
Because time will never last: I refuse to let it pass.
I refuse to let it pass.

- James Jason Dye

(featured in the poetry forum 10.21.09)