Craig Caudill
The October Featured Poet is
Craig Caudill
Please feel free to email Craig at: craigwerks8@gmail.com
METROPOLIS
the last highway to Metropolis
with sleepy roads rodents winged beings
eyes of candles burning out parched roads
crumbling buildings
weather worn faces hands touching faces
eyes touching faces
efigys dissolving to sugar
tires wine kissing the new Sahara
we can have coffee there if you like
although it could be hard
or get anyones attention
but the wine is good from pure
sugar chalk and sugar and wine
substitutes
and you can bet on that
and you can always count on the
ancients to show up from time to time
perhaps you can ride the monorail
which never goes out of fashion
making all the stops
you can be a pure dandy
write that song you always wanted to right
wear that tie you saw on tv
burn an effigy on your lawn
like they used to
perhaps you too can ration food out
to the less fortunates
and look good on TV
wearing that tie
that sways dramatically
in the wind
HAMMERHEAD
A palm opens to me tasting the winds of many veils
hands bleed hands steal
fingers cross
palm close and thrust for he dreams no more
Window glow with green candle light the cards are spread out
Before us we sail
The sea is salty and cumbersome
The ship aches during the night
But I trust its ancient judgment its inner navigational pull.
I trust it knows where it’s going
many others conduct rituals to kept its spirits, singing praises
promising wine women and song despite its loneliness.
some say it was a thousand year old birth from the deepest of cultures
No one knows who this ship but he has seen enough
I may have lassoed it, but it he that has chosen me
I see to it that it is that it is washed from aerial deposits
and that its anchor is doused in the finest oils
in return he finds me ancient spices, culture no one knows or will ever know, he finds me fortresses in artic caves
green diamonds and chrome forests.
He treats me well and protects me from parasitic ships that he tears apart
With his jaws. But not like he used too.
His heart has slowed and his breathing painful
His eyesight is nit as keen as it once was
But his navigational pull…
I know know Hammer Head has a few more miles to go.
THE SUN CHOOSES WHO IT SHINES ON
The sun aches bleeds an incurable provider
of light and heat aligning the cosmos
The sun alone, its final, the sun aches
Flowers grown solar wind knocking out satellites
Oceans fall to the floor, pepper shakes
The sun rotates
I’m down here and the sun rotates much the same
Wind
Eating away through trees, brick houses paper bags
Plants leaves and various birds
Wind like a knife cutting through my clothes
Icy with teeth
Numb with teeth
Mouthy with teeth
Ear ache
Ears pounding like a hammer or heart pounding
Silence pounding more silence
Silence looking for a better filter, a clearer signal
Visuals
Specks on my eyes like microbes in the dark
green swirls in the corners or when my eyes closed
more fades and shades
greens reds pinks purples then I fall asleep into white
and dream in black and white
clouds
bulbous cottony impregnated swollen before the twilight
sheets of pink tear
finally a blanket of grey for the rest of the week
Summer is gone, spring is an alcoholic
The winter wears its mask, we all do we eat more because the
Cold eats stored fat. The winter is an old machine run down always still
Rusted ancient, another worldly junkyard sculpture.
Autumn hung itself in the shower, the police came founds its body. There were pieces of the suicide note in the toilet, apparently it was not well thought out. But the gist of the letter was quite clear.
“I haven’t seen the sun in ages”
Formally a multimedia artist, at age forty-two, Craig has been writing for thirty plus years. He has been published in various literary journals in Austria, England and Canada.
Craig's novella Sleep Walker is coming out October 28th with NSP Books.
He is currently looking for a home for three novels that venture in several genres. He resides in Fort Mitchell Kentucky with his wife Gloria of eleven years. When he’s not writing, he is feeding stray animals, ducks, and fish at a pond he calls The River Styx Pond.
Learn more about Craig HERE