overhead

Poe and Hitchcock
they knew
the perfidy of the stickybeak
whether singular or en masse
supplanting blithe confidence with paranoia
and even when they're gone
one looks skyward with suspicion

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

face your fears

there is a monster 'neath my bed
and jagged teeth fill up his head
his arms are short but they have claws
they're best for scratching 'neath his jaw

when I was young he filled my mind
nocturnal terror all the time
'til when I reached the second grade
I found diplomacy was made
to build up trust and allay fear

a tête a tête one Friday night
my monster promised not to bite
except the cookies that we shared
and which I fed him laissez-faire

and so, fast friends without a hex
me and my asomatous rex

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

golden

campanology can be quite lucrative
thought the bell-ringer with the kettle to give
as I passed him a five
on my journey inside
and said "stop when I'm near if you want to live"

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

truth

reality has a complexion
that's far from an airbrushed perfection
if it's truth you would find
better salt what's in Time
with what's bruited in tabloid connections

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

voyeur

methinks yon poet strokes his glass
the beer within sets head a-spin
and dreams his hands upon a lass
abiding from afar

or is she just the stuff of smoke
next verse's gleam in conscious stream
Pygmalion might share this joke
perhaps another round

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Inspired by Picasso's The Glass of Beer


predilection

inexorably drawn
nuances of form
pale
to heart and soul and mind
oh but how they work together

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved

Easton's Beach November

morning chill of fall
breeze subsides and sun provides
brief summer echo
wavelets lapping on the sand
warmth of sun on face and hands

© 2016 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved