Birthright Profane
Drawn up the limit of ten
Swelling caves in silk hose she often leaves then
Insulting to any lady double-envelops white
Chastise her horse-wimping vain
Unbuttoned her gauntlet with laughter
She flogs no such thing insane
Little poor girl by the rock rafter
Ghost woman’s birthright’s profane
Soft cling aristocrat ever-after
Opal Ball-Dress
Her pal wears an Opal Ball-dress to write
Improper overtures coming from him
Writing with Tortoiseshell Pens
Cracks between shutters brings in light
Frost- bound coachman arrived at midnight
Drawn up the limit of ten
Swelling caves in her silk hose happens often
Insulting to any lady double-envelops white
Mustang Chalice
Ramparts of the horizon yearning strange phenomenon
Peaceful sleepy tenor watchful eye of Arithmetic
Wild horse Red River swollen thundering high
Sheep-Headers sleeping at breeds Sage Palace
Tormenting monstrous rocks and cactus horrify
Thundered past ears laid-back Mustang Chalice
Yearning of her heart, Pine Fringed Pie
Sonnet CCIII
Rocky ramparts Red-Walled with Seasoned Brick
Rolling ridges giant cliffs steely skies lost in the sun
Hair flying down her skeleton
Vague loneliness with the scarlet walking stick
Fragrant sage memories of haunting sweet Arsenic
Expostulated sentimental simpleton
Ramparts of the horizon yearning strange phenomenon
Peaceful sleepy tenor ever watchful eye of Arithmetic
Wild horse Red swollen thundering river high
Sheep-Headers sleeping at breeds Sage Palace
Tormenting monstrous rocks and cactus horrify
Yearning for her heart Pine Fringed Pie
Thundered past ears laid-back Mustang Chalice
Descending Love
Descend that’s love light at your peril
Were bout under the same Sun and Moon?
English watering place by moonlight her voice floating out
Gnawing petticoats twisted into the water
Spring cleaning worst moral pub
Wild ferns howled bay sleeping sky
She hangs like a cat to its claws
She cries true love soul dissolves
Delight in love’s rake
Her young mouth laughs at her gift
Pink articulated lips storm of a kiss
When a poet loves in unassail reason
UN shivered enraptured God’s eyes weep a ton
Love’s time fool an ever fixed mark
Sun or Moon Roses by a bee will sting
Terry Brinkman has been painting for over forty five years; now he paints with words too. Poems in Rue Scribe, Tiny Seed. Winamop, Snapdragon Journal, Poets Choice, Adelaide Magazine, Variant, the Writing Disorder, Ink Pantry, In Parentheses, Ariel Chat, New Ulster, Glove, and in Pamp-le-mousse, North Dakota Quarterly, Barzakh, Urban Arts, Wingless Dreamer, True Chili, LKMNDS and Elevation.
You can find more of Terry’s work here on Ink Pantry