it clings to vacated cup's base
icy drink's very last drop

bottoms up, not a chance
to partake of love's libation

had there been other chances
of a remix or extended version;

not a coin left but pocket lint, in
an ever-growing emptying space

A raw and redemptive,
a jagged lullaby wrapped
in grit and grace.

Confronting primal origins
of beauty, tracing how chaos,
trauma, and history's rough edges
are not just background noise,

but the very instruments
in life’s symphony.
Pain isn’t just a prelude to joy—
it’s part of the composition.

This poem, insistent:
what is beautiful isn’t
in spite of the brokenness,
but because of it.

That’s where its power hits hardest—
where rock and roll meets requiem,
and we stand, animal, mostly human,
made whole through noise and nerve.





.

make it quick
like a guillotine
quick, give them
cake, all of them
'fore it's too late
no time left now

blood-skies, day or night
heavens speaking
loud and bright
rainbows chasing
dreams take flight
yesterday's flailings
now out of sight

Loving the unlovable
Has fashioned this tremulous
Unevenly layered perturbance

when the biting autumnal breeze

sweeps past these craggy rocks

its howling whispers - seducing;

sparing no thought of mercy

blinking lights on distant shores

waltz with pearly stars of night

pontoons my heaving, ready heart

across dark, deep, brewing waters

billowy clouds float aimlessly by

nonchalant in a blank staring sky

everyone's got their reasons
even those that say they don't
everyone's got their seasons
whether they live it or won't

our ears are designed to hear
and lips were made to kiss
the batting of your lashes
turns stony hearts to bliss

for a time and half a time
this pen will cease to scribble
until reasons find their clime
then again resume its ripple*



_ _ __✒
●○
°

done and dusted, deplorable stink
anxious cereal bowl filled to the brink
whose talk is faster than walking

height of vulgarity, hidden ingenuity
missed passes prelude missed opportunity
and flies stick petrified on shadowed ceiling

'

*Dour faced 
you stepped into a gaping precipice 
leaving me with 
my face moist 

at the threshold 
(its frame now leaning 
to one side 
splintered and unhinged.) 

Did I tell you that my front door 
never opened to the street? 
Maybe I never had the need to; 
you always entered through the back door, 

you always crept out the window 
to play in the sun. 
This time was different: 

Before another word could be spoken 
you rushed past me 
brushing my outstretched arm(s) . 
Then all I could see 

was your hair tumbling in the air 
as your limbs flailed 
while you plummeted out of my life. *





_ _ __✒
●○
°

Hello
PeOple of the once
EThereal metamoRph
Your moment has now
arrived; PERiwinkle
adornments on your
china on display,
SPecific to table placements
ICarian silhouettes on
placemats, UnIcorn-lined
doilies in conTrast Yell
out: 'perspicacity.'
Your aid and companionability
see us through it all.

raise up your glasses to
the evils and praises of meds...

in the end of transactions

someone pockets hard-earned money
and another is divested of choice*



●○
•

'

Sit down with me awhile, my Love 
Let's leave the world behind; 
This hour belongs to us alone: 
Our moment etched in time. 

Lean upon my shoulder, Sweet 
And press your cheek to mine. 
Let's set our eyes to spy upon 
Our promised ever-after, find. 

Rest your arm upon my knee 
And hold that smile again. 
Another spot is next in line 
On our wedding photography.




_ __ ✒
○●
°

everyone wants a slice
of the pie, every single one
and only a few do or can;
for most it's pie in the sky
a minority majority have
for centuries kept this so
now we're told that pie
is not quite good for us
our buckets are empty
'til the day that we die

so much emerges at daybreak
much more than my locale

or even in star-shine of night
mere specks, unpolished coal;

a darkness in shadow's light
vainly seeking revealed perfection*




️ _ _ __ ✒
○●
°

by this way 
each new day 
you let float 

your paper boat 

down a fast 
running stream 
that holds no dreams






____✒
○●

Monday morning
distant yawning
scurrilous deceit
sweet as coffee
promising smiles
autographed with
stained teeth and
coffee breath that
lingers under sheen
of oral care products
ghosts of Sunday's
weekend ebbing

no experience is quite as sobering
and equally devastating as when
it clicks that your happy place is
in fact not happy at all but delusion;
it's galloping into the sunset on an
overcast and sloshing, muddy day

Is it not a foe who taunts —
that in itself could be borne
Is it not an enemy's tirades—
from them one could hide
Instead, an arrogant intimacy—
life's equal, companion & friend.

What close companionship
now scattered in the chill
of uncaring autumn winds
from familiar paths once  
walked together in gardens
of fond affection and glee.

your ink
      has
indelibly stained

my
    unwitting soul;
we are now

together,
      forever,
         
--irreparably ruined*




●○
°

for despite obstacles
or stacked-up odds
we must forge a path,
relentlessly represent
and trek what's ahead,
what's yet to be explored

poetry has
progressively
progressed;
transforming
into an interactive
attempt at dialogue
between poet and reader
between soul and soul

your ink
      has
indelibly stained

my
    unwitting soul;
we are now

together,
      forever,
          
--irreparably ruined*




●○
°

a mirror reflects
as light conveys
words transport
worlds entire as
audiences reflect
reviews convey as
transported worlds
shuttle words are
woven over again

smokescreen
tear gas and pepper spray
thick fog, dash display
wipers on overdrive
halogens burning bright
road ahead still dim
destination out of sight

Popcorn is flowing
buttery bright;
Write sabres sparking,
left and right. 
Many have fallen,
many have fled.
Some remain faithful
like voices in my head. 
A few now frozen
in Merlin's stead.
Tomorrow perhaps
we'll walk into the light; 
behind us a memory
of a dream in the night.

it's inevitable ultimately
to lose every blame game

(each & every flamin' galah
***** & squawks itself silly)

for it is always ourselves
that we blame in the end

political correction
never rose a moon
never set a sun
nor cure cancer
or ****** enhancer
bottomlines remain

very little to gain, but

a worn-out refrain
may uncover truth
somehow missed
for lack of a chance
to give this once over
a secondary glance*




●○
°

*** plants


🪴
hapless indulgences
animated silences
            quiver
🪴
hankered imagination
ambiguous synapses
quibble            
🪴
each way you turn
each thought you churn
new lessons learn
🪴
potted flower plants
line your driveway
mind you don't crush them
🪴














© Frederick Kesner

▪



today's a gift, wrapped; 

            yesterday, now peeled open, 

                                tomorrow reveals





_ _ __ ✒
●○
°

Doubt settles like a creeping mist,
clouding judgments, turning paths uncertain.
In its shadow, anger ignites,
a wildfire consuming calm,
its heat searing every thought.

Guilt stands vigilant, a sentinel of past deeds,
binding the heart with heavy links,
its weight a relentless reminder.
Grief walks beside, a silent companion,
its presence a heavy mist,
changing the landscape of the soul.

Shame cloaks itself in invisibility,
a critic whispering in hushed tones,
distorting reflections with harsh judgments.
Under life's pressure, we navigate,
seeking light in the fog of doubt,
finding resilience in the wildfire of anger.

We unshackle from guilt's chains,
embrace the silent walks with grief,
and step into the light,
casting off the cloak of shame,
transforming under pressure,
becoming stronger, shining bright.

tears on yon rosy cheek
make bravest men, meek

each issue of nagging jaw
swing of a mortal claw

round tables of legend
always beyond reach

and wet dog hair never
fails to make you sneeze

raise again this chalice,
fearsome and seductive;
that brims with venom
and sparkles with promise

that in the twilight beckons...

Raise this goblet
to once satin lips
now runnelled with
bypassed dreams,

you hope, but hope in vain...

Gulp down your fill,
wait for forgetfulness still;
let the dregs of this cup
caress your wearied mind,

'til dawn tops it up again.*




●○
°

revolutions of the second hand
are innumerable to a watchful eye,
which is no comfort to this bruising

...shame

nor can heart's run far enough away
from pulsing, cancerous gangrene;
so off to the darkest mile it treads

...softly

sifts into the cooling of a fading day,
a gentle crushing blow fixes completely
these drowning, despondent smiles

...of yesterday

where wafting wavelets wail forlornly,
while whispering affections, once silent;
hearkening back to more innocent times

...found wanting

take a stab
although it's dark
punch and jab
don't miss ye'r mark

tomorrow's fab
don't mind my back
pick up this tab
then hit the sack

'stab's on you
that last pint too

several thousand feet
high above but nowhere
to land from a vantage
leased by fresh steam;
floating then plummet
now, no more free fall
no pull on the ripcord,
no tug; pulled the plug
- - life support flatlines
are vacuums really void
when you're stuck in one?