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A selection of Dean’s Recent Short Poems (posted 7-18-2012)

Note: I continue to write a poem now and then. This is probably unconstitutional, since I consider my poems to be of value, and I think only the Government is supposed to put out pieces of paper imprinted with significant images that are to be considered valuable. But my friends do their best to keep  my printing activity a secret, so I’m safe. However, with the price of oil going so high, the fact that my poems are printed on highly inflammable paper may create a demand for them, since fuels enter in where poets fear to tread. I look forward to the day when my poems will be legal tinder.

Smoking Afterwards

The beast with two-back—O!

Carnivore Bad Breath

Before you kiss an ocelot,
Be sure to have him floss a lot.

A Lot of Ocelot

A tawny ghost, more gas than mass,
Seen winding through wind-rippled grass--
With lots of spots, the ocelot
Will seem to oscillate a lot.
An otter ought to, but will not,
For outer spots he has not got,
And if he spots an ocelot,
The otter freezes on the spot.
Nearing a road, the ocelot
Foresees a chicken in his pot
And waits, his breath both sour and hot
(For ocelots don’t floss a lot)
Where silly chickens cross a lot,
For chickens are a vacant lot,
Foredoomed to fill an ocelot.
He, too, is doomed one day to rot,
Poached for his pelt in glade and grot.
Nearly extinct, the oscelot –
How sad! – becomes a fossil lot.


A young man with his head up his ass
Was quite horribly troubled with gas,
And began to balloon!
As he rose toward the moon,
He was heard to cry, “This, too, shall pass!”


In-can descents.


Ink and essence,


we, come-bent,
We caress,
we chorus
our longing,
in long vowels,
We convulse,
weak, unbent,
we sleep.

Icles and Acles

You extend tender tentacles
to tease me with ten tickles.
Your tentative test tickles
Tighten my teeming testicles,
extending  my tense tackle
toward  its holy tabernacle,
as with my own tenacious tentacles,
I grapple you close, intent
on tenuous miracle.

Liberated Love

They shack up, shedding
the shackles
of the shackless.

Rainy Night in Manhattan

He pushes past the others
and leaps into the only cab in sight,
raising the hackles
of the hackless.

Haikus From Last Winter

Snowfall –
the sides of the road
huddle nearer.

Snowfall –
bundled neighbors – what’s their name? –
wave through clouds of breath.

Snowfall –
such dazzle from a sky
so gray

Snow – the burden
of too much beauty cracks
our old pear tree.

Whiteness dull beneath
Pewter sky until the sun
shows its true colors.

Feet crack condensed wet,
but dry air rasps our throats.
Far sounds are clear.

Snow settles in curves.
Nothing remains pointed,
even headlights dulled.

Squeal of car tires
spinning in the silent
silent snow

Roar, squeal…silence…
roar, squeal…silence. SLAM…
crunch crunch crunch…silence.

White flakes – not ice,
not water. How is this done?
Suspended breath?

Snow drifts dazzling
in the sun. I walk on clouds.
Where’s my harp?

Snow, more snow,
our little houses warmed
by what we can burn.

Wood, coal, oil, gas –
sullen spies in snow country
sent by a distant sun.

Wood, coal, oil, laughter,
each house an island of warmth,
a buried seed.

Carefully stepping
where others have stepped before,
wading through show drifts.

after snowfall, blue sky
but on earth millions
of breath clouds.

We meet and kiss,
exchanging clouds.

Too cold to risk
sweat or tears.
Be steady like the cold.

Sticky snow,
long white leeches
cling to each branch.

It’s cold out.
Merciful snow comes down
to thicken our roofs.

True Clouds
Clouds far above, brilliant,
solid. When close around us,
mere mist, disappointing.
a truer closeness of tangible cloud
is the deep, settling swellings
of snow, turning the world to cloud.

Finally Clear Skies

The blizzard is over,
bright blue sky. We won’t get lost
on our way to the mailbox, but…
where is the mailbox?

A Lessoning

You rulers who secretly sneer,
“The people? What is ‘the people’?” –
see how tiny a thing is
one snowflake.

Resolve Into Adieu

“What’s a little snow to me?
I’m from Minnesota.”
No, my body’s from Minnesota.
I’m a bit of sunlight
frozen in my body,  rippling through it
like the twinkle in an icicle,
freeing myself from it as,
drip by drip, I melt it.

Neville Chamberlain Sums Up Munich

I came,
I saw,
I concurred.

If Only He’d Lain in his Chamber

That pathetic Prime Minister, Neville,
Hoped the Fuhrer was quite on the level,
So he caved in at Munich,
Diplomatic, suave eunuch…
“Peace,” thought Hitler,”can go to the Devil!”

Measure Me Assures

Of old our poems were neater.
Where have they gone, those masters?
Perhaps to greener pastures
They’ve gone to make their meter.

A La Recherche de Kitty Perdu

The narrow, penetrating whine
of our cat, just hungry, but she seems to cry

…And the Weiner Is…

Flash: Horny adolescent male
wins Oscar for Animated Shorts!

Bye, Bay?

Large dead areas in the Chesapeake Bay…
Crappy dearth, Bay.

And Never Sleeps: Napless

Ancient statues of goddesses
lack genital hair. I suppose it suits
lunar Goddess, Diana/Artemis:
After all, the moon waxes.

Pun Gently

Too much wit, too little matter
is soporific. Razzle Dazzle breaks down
anagrammatically into real deal and

An Enigma

Ignorance, a form of the word “ignore.”
Stupidity is a failure or inability
to pay attention. Pay no attention
to the causes, and medicate the symptoms
(and  pay no attention to the results).
And since what we are thus failing to treat
is a deficit of attention, we become
more and  more ignorant.

Sun Come, Wan Go

In the Southern sun they tango,
Then slake thirst with fresh-squeezed mango.
Winter—soon she sees her man go,
then, far worse, her summer tan go.

It’s Bad Luck…

to slap a fly
about to land on a porcupine.

No man is an island…

or perhaps a lonely man
is a densely populated island.


Al Gore

Celebrity Roast…

selects a ham
for prime ribbing.


on the brie, a fly…
briefly.     [brie-fly]


Sages say you are our own worst enemy.
Politicians say your government represents

The Cat

surrounds us, pure

The Sun’s Admiration,

even at this distance,
is too fierce.

We receive it
cooled and reflected
as eye-twinkle, dew-twinkle,
the flashes of a million puddles
in sunset-slanting rays
and the glitter of fresh snowflakes,
in their first infusion of sunshine.

Even at night the sun admires us,
hiding in the cool green eyes
of cats, adding more distance
than we choose to know.

Don’t “Honey” ME!

Killer bees—
do their faceted eyes glare?
Are they Hun-eyed?


Why are the bees disappearing?
Because in this age where Self-Esteem
is everybody’s honey,
professors give only A’s.


I have ten toes,
like, Toe tally!

How Goth Is She?

A cadaver
Could have her.

Organic Punctuation

A colon is potential, promising possible excitement:
A penis is the culmination, an exclamation point!
After words it curls up, perhaps a question mark?
I don't know what a rectum is, but surely our farts
punctuate the early morning hours.

Time is a Serious Subject  (a palindrome)

Emit no pun upon time.

by Dean Blehert

copyright (c) 2012. All Rights Reserved

Last updated: July 18, 2012