These will be from my collection of poem book called “A Basket of Sundries” given it is a collection of various poems with no overarching them other than it’s a basket of random things.

Introduction Poem

It is what it is for being free.

Trash this, trash that, trash here, trash there.

A wordless compost of taste I decree.

These are poems that no one cares about to read and bear

because who reads them for fun anymore I say without a doubt.

Let alone read such unfiltered, unskilled, freestyle anarchy ridden nonsense without poetic clout.

It will be like the normal inside the regular within the commonplace.

Yet paradoxically like an all out brawl out

with the weirdos outside the fringes of a bizarre bazaar battling it out with a mace.

It will be neither a popular nor high cultured eclectic strikeout.

These poems are a trip most worst in waste.

My mind is no different from the rest, not special in any kind of taste.

There is a lack of an overarching theme to this poetic toxic waste.

I like the magic realms of fantasy and warp drive engines of science built in haste.

Let me rip your attention with this armature flutter of brain pulp and sound rind.

I implore you to come download this garbage and take a dip in some strange brine.

When asked will this book be good?

I have no editor or grammarian with a spell caster’s hood.

So my answer is that of a really bad post work brood.

No, these poems will not be good.

But why not leave a bad review when and where you can, if you so could?

But only if you really mean it if you would.

At least I would know that you read some poems before using it in place of firewood.

Free Verse Poet Poser Renegade

I tried to rhyme in literature fashion

but I have not a drip of satisfaction for patience and perseverance.

I am dumb to behold anything but the free verse

I have no understanding of iambs and thus I crawl with temptatious un-adherence.

Never did I hate the rules, but always was I fond of incoherence.

Be it bones of laziness, muscles of inherent resistance or a wandering absent mind.

My meanings are crazy, utterly distant, and not at all refined.

Let’s not even look into my illegal use of

punctuation, all things misused and abused.

Bye Bye Poem

I bid you adieu.

Maybe you enjoyed the view

within my mind stew.

A grammatical soup with such odd rhymes of a broken kazoo.

I hope it did not stink worse than a sweaty old gym shoe.

Nothing of mine makes much makes sense

so I just try to condense

the sparks of neurons into some amountable defense.

A dedication to my effort to live in the present tense.