Michael Pruchnicki Poems

he smiles and turns verbal somersaults
not saying what rankles him most

about others who are not his kind
...

The price we paid is the blood we shed.
Our bones unmarked by granite stone.
We are alone here and we are dead.
...

I don't know if Poetry Lover
(hereafter called plover,
a shore bird with short tail)
aspires to become a poet
...

You can gush and emote
gripe and moan
weep and groan
slash your wrists
...

Every time I glance up at the framed
lithograph hanging on my den wall
of a bear sitting at its ease browsing
through the pages of A Bears Guide
...

Good Christ, he said to the mirror
you certainly look your age
hair retreating to the rear
bleary eyes
...

God's warrior fond
of roast pigeon
on rye
...

you never know until it's too late
that everything you put your hand
to fades & dissolves in the sun
of an aroused intellect
...

From time immemorial
green fields and valleys
have been filled
with the innocents
...

he is not your average politician
I'll grant you that

more a leader of a movement
...