Verse From The City Of R'lyeh

[Great Cthulhu]

"Under the Radar"

That nicest boy you seek

has just passed you again,

his friendly, half hopeful smile

bouncing off the armor

of your clouded vision.

You see the bright, shining jerk,

flashing his perfect teeth

and his wondrous talent

for caring only for himself.

He leers at you, confident

in the future knowledge of conquest!

The boy of nicest words,

fierce loving and dedication in deeds

is waiting still for your answer.

He has approached you, just unseen.

He attempts to woo with understanding words,

a gentle touch, an encouraging eye,

a hug for support,

a shoulder never judging, wet with tears.

Loving you from the wings,

grateful to share the shadows

of your limelight.

He waits for you to notice.

He longs for you to say, "Yes!"

Look around, girl.

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

(this is a contest entry with the prompt of: 'Running on empty')

"Fumes of Love"

We seem to be at the end of us.

No rich, golden sunset for

the end of our time,

just pale twilight

caught between our eyes.

Half-hearted words bantered weakly.

The most common response,

"Yeah, ok, whatever..."

Our daily grind coming to a halt

in the love littered alleys of life.

When did our passion evaporate away?

Come with me, my sweet!

I propose a new strategy,

let's run this thing into the ground!

Let's burn our love down

in one last grand conflagration!

The last drops of our passion

will fuel the fire,

for I wish to be never forgotten

in your last memories.

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

(This is the first and only poem I've written about my stepfather, perhaps I'm finally ridding myself of the last of his poison. Thankfully, I had eight years with my mother before he showed up, I was able to break the chains.)

"David Lee"

Many labels have rested

upon your brow

-son, brother, husband, father, man of god

betrayer, deceiver, abuser of women and children

Labels that can not convey

the horror of a twelve year old boy

witnessing his mother receive

a biblical style beating from the man she loves.

High in the mountains of Montana,

hours away from the closest human being,

I saw the first glimpses of the real you.

I have taken the lessons you taught

and kept them close to my heart,

for your examples showed me

how not to live.

Memories of you and your name

are all I keep of yours.

The past will keep me forever vigilant,

a bitter reminder to be a better man,

every moment and every day.

Your name is just a name,

for it has been cleansed of your taint,

washed clean and purified by the fires

of true, respectful love.

I forgive you,

David Lee.

[RevRainbow]

It's been a while since your last entry. I really enjoy your style. The wonderful cascade of carefully chosen words expressing the heart of a poet. Keep it up. You have fans! (that's not coffee, by the way)

[Great Cthulhu]

It's been a while since your last entry. I really enjoy your style. The wonderful cascade of carefully chosen words expressing the heart of a poet. Keep it up. You have fans! (that's not coffee, by the way)

Thanks! My writing lately has been concentrated on finishing my book on spirituality.

[Great Cthulhu]

"Goodness From the Oven"

Turkey baster syringe

full of Frying hot shortening.

Needle, burnished, gleaming steel

of dire gourmet, baked goodness intent.

Eyes of growing concern watch

culinary death descend,

the cutest hee hee giggle

cuts off with the full intent

of the ticklish finger

holding him down immobile.

His pallid, floured flesh

quivers in sudden fear

as the Oven *beeps* out baking temp.

Ready, greased butter-flake

and soon to be searing golden brown,

melt in your mouth,

so damn good it don't even

hit your teeth!!

It's not cruelty doughy muffin man,

it's all in the name

of good Eats.

April 25, 2010.

© LeRoy James McKitrick,

All rights reserved

"Other Thoughts"

In front of household duty,

kitchen sink, hands sunk into suds,

working forward the design

of the perfect dip tray.

Seeing it real-time three dimensions floating

buoyant in the ether of my mind.

Sighting down the angles formed

by the anvil flat bottom and sides,

perfect corners with a slight

one eighth inch radius

following where each of the planes meet.

Perfect.

The corner of your chip could liberate

the very last bit of your favorite dip.

Yes, more for me and less waste

washed away down the kitchen drain...

Such a grand and wonderful existence

tomorrow will be.

All hail the perfect dip tray!

April 25, 2010

© LeRoy James McKitrick,

All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

Dedicated to the moron who girdled a young ponderosa pine tree in the little strip of woods near my house.

"Freak with a Girdle"

An unthinking freak

has fallen deep into callousness

and girdled a living being.

A Ponderosa once lifted its proud green needles

fifteen young feet to the embracing rays

of Sun, drinking kisses of rain

battered with savage happiness,

blustery winds keeping its roots

deep and strong.

Now it gasps out the last few weeks

of its life. Its bark slashed away,

a mortal wound encircling the trunk.

Shiny, golden tears of desperate resin

futilely trying to seal away the harm.

The veins hidden "safely"

under the rough, brown bark

have been irreparably severed,

hacked and shaved away by burnished steel.

It will die as it stands.

Home only to rapine insects

and rampant disease

an unintended fortress for sending

out waves of death

for the surrounding forest.

Soon all this livid green shall be expunged,

sanitized for a needless new start;

brought about by the freak's

thoughtless, uncaring "carving" project.

October 4, 2010

© LeRoy James McKitrick,

All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

"Undeniable Inertia of Beauty"

Taste the barest hint

of perfection in dark-eyed vision,

breathing in the sound

of her warm, rich laughter,

shivering down into an unknown

well of pleasure;

endless waves of elemental disturbance

arcing across the buried surface.

Seismic registration

traveling along the curving path of breast

waist to hip and down

longest

legs.

A journey shaking

you beyond bedrock,

a cataclysmic event at your

delicate burning core.

Multiple epochs decay

in the heartbeat of now

until your vision

returns to her face;

the totality of 'She'

tears you helpless asunder,

supernova shattered

on the edge of her knowing

goddess smile.

Every particle infinitely grateful

for the moment of luscious destruction.

October 5, 2010

© LeRoy James McKitrick,

All rights reserved

[Brother Michael Sky]

whew, someone get me a cold drink.... and a cigarette....

nice work, my friend, your imagery is technicolor....

edit: and the previous post is appreciated as well - I felt your outrage deeply...

Edited October 6, 2010 by Brother Michael Sky

[Great Cthulhu]

Thank you, Brother Michael! Kind comments are always welcome!!

[Great Cthulhu]

"Long Mentalist Division"

An epic conflagration of conflict,

raging unchecked within the confines

of my cranium;

battle lines of thought

drawn savage between reason and creation.

Left and Right hemispheres fighting,

refusing to cooperate, communicate.

Insidious synaptic impulses,

espionage of the nerves,

sent down the arms

under hidden networks.

Each hand working madcap double homerow,

typing on its own machine

jealous in the shadows of exclusivity.

Half of Totality rolling up

past the key-stuttered platens,

double spaced underwritten,

over-corrected.

Only revealing the full message

when held to the Light,

meshed together

leaf to line overlapped,

united.

November 28, 2010.

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

"Love's Event Horizon"

Billions of time cycles

finally eclipsed, bringing us together

for our eventual, eternal spiral.

Weaving immense dark matters,

tidal forces of ancient, elemental deities

coalescing through ephemeral fabrics

of space and time.

Our tender, stellar almost-touch,

an ineffable dance of infinite mass,

speaks into the eternity of true dedication,

the physicality of quantum physics.

Singing constellations serenade

a universal ballad of Einsteinian theory.

A hymn sent out to the vastness of the void,

announcing a relentless romance

joyous and terrifying in its inevitability.

All is lost before us

suctioned away into the void

behind the veil of substance,

sent down into twin wells of Forgotten.

Leaving behind only us

and our sweet, succulent dance,

the Black Hole Waltz.

November 28, 2010.

© LeRoy James McKitrick,

All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

("What's this about a new way??")

"Rammikin in an Alcohol Bath"

Shout out for a grazing lout

of spurious intent,

four ruminating wise guys

suppurating accents into atmospherical

accidents Bang! Bang!

Clash of Fashionistas

hair pulling out of this Bad Deal,

follicles plucked one by

one huge handful

of Starshine

on you,

on You!

off me rocker arms

pistoning madly at 7800 RPM,

red line only a sliver

sad sack of lettuce wilting forgotten

behind

last month's avocados, soft

and ripe for Honeymoon's

loving, savage deflowering.

Agent Orange dropped mistakenly

(got some bad intel, Tony...)

into a sodden, soggy bowl of corn flakes,

spoon settling nicely into morning's

asphalt.

A humpbacked Road leading past brunch

hunched over that damned

reset button stuck down

in peanut butter cement,

once again jelly belly deleted

without the three fingered

Salute!

Twenty one guns?

Oh yeah, water pistols

filled with chocolate milk

at fifty paces.

LeRoy James McKitrick: February 20, 2011.

© Author, All rights reserved

Edited February 22, 2011 by Great Cthulhu

[Great Cthulhu]

"Twisted Road"

Sweet rumble of meat/machine

rolls into the night.

A mechanical

chuckle of joy v-twinned,

rising

falling

as we mesh so smoothly through the gears;

reveling in exclusive affiliation

with the Wind.

Right wrist twist of quarter throttle,

Machine hunches down in the rear

then

rockets

forward threatening

to tear away my fearsome grips.

Grinning delight to the Moon,

I welcome the dark pavement,

floating just below us.

Following purposeful leans,

our savage light cone

of demon laughing leer headlamp

slices the night

showing a twisted path

laid out in traffic paint.

Hug that welcome line with both wheels,

for that's the path to onward.

February 23, 2011.

© LeRoy James McKitrick,

All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

"Image Consultant"

Twenty seven years of perfection

is what I see.

Every today has been refreshed anew

by the glorious vision of my Love's countenance.

I don't see laugh lines, I see the record

of all my dumb jokes,

you laughed so hard, lost in amazed humor.

Leaving me astounded,

flabbergasted and pleased

that you like my quirky sense of humor.

I see not the gray hairs

hiding peek a boo in the silken cascade.

I see the frost of Winter's last days,

soon melting away into dews of Spring,

nourishing and sustaining the blossoms

in our garden of mutual dedication.

I see merely the frosting on the sweetest cake,

delicate and subtle in luscious flavors

for us to share!

Every time I gaze upon your face,

I see the twenty year young blossom

that stole my breath away,

stuttering, stammering;

all cool smoothness blown away

in the savage storm of your undying beauty.

Each moment in your presence

awakens that awkward boy,

desperate to catch the gift of your attention.

You don't need a mirror Love,

just consult my smile

and the hunger need desire in my eyes,

for the ever fresh portrait of you in my heart.

With your loving permission,

I'll always be your image consultant.

February 22, 2011.

© LeRoy James McKitrick,

All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

"Extraterrestrial Prime Time"

Gods of Science

bold and defiant in the security

of convoluted mechanisms

thinking in nanosecond time scales

and the cold, calculated Purity

of the undisputed equation.

Wallowing in quantum physics,

laying smugly along string theories

as quarks dance before clinical eyes.

Sneering down their long intellectual

noses at the heathen believers.

Laughter late at night in laboratories

ring from computer screen to sacred beakers,

humor at the folly of religionists.

Religion's devotees

sure and right in interpretations

of ancient scriptures

handed down word to mouth

then scribed amongst candle smoke,

brimstone and tonsured pates.

Pounded pulpits with spittle spraying

to the congregational sheep,

"Believe!

and all shall be shaved... sorry, saved.

Trust not these science blasphemers,

for thy roots are not from monkeys

and the Lord shall smite them

for their learned arrogance!"

Twin sides of a single coin,

and neither see

invisible visitors, starships parked

just down the street.

Rolling on the ground howling with laughter,

alien eyes streaming alien tears

at the shared earthbound ignorance

and reviews they will receive

back home from recording

the 'supposed' cream of the crop

Homo Sapiens. Hilarious!

February 28, 2011. © LeRoy James McKitrick,

All rights reserved

[Great Cthulhu]

"Sustenance for the Mountain"

An infinitesimal crystalline particle

lays imprisoned in the ebon tomb

of a stony outcrop wind jutting

off the side of mother mountain.

In its gritty dreams, a kernel of hunger,

an unsatisfied yearning for freedom

making a stone's dreams unsteady.

A thirst for liberation and light

drives away any thoughts of stability.

Within a time scale of epochs,

icy frost and ferocious winds

rend, tear and shear

with clawed fingers of entropy

fracturing in a steady

geological breakdown heartbeat.

Shattered off with relentless

seasonal assault

the outcrop falls from the face

and tumbles. Crumbling, chipping,

skipping down the side of mother mountain,

scraping away extraneous material

to find the escapee particle exposed.

Ages of deliverance, rumbling down

stream beds awake with abrasion,

good natures of rocky neighbors jostling,

shaving down to the core of crystallized desire.

Finally breaking free of the last

basaltic bonds, a grain of quartz sand

marches proudly alone to rest on the beach.

It is joined by similar jail breakers,

all laying together in smug defiance.

Layered ever deeper and higher,

a vast mass of escaped stony convicts

grows great with a fellowship of freedom.

The very gravity of their numbers pushing,

squeezing, mashing down to embrace

the upper mantle, squished together

into one majestic stone.

The upheavals of a molten core

birth out the mass of a newest mother mountain.

Jagged virgin poking at the skies,

a crystalline particle

lays imprisoned in an ebon tomb

and it hungers...

March 4, 2011.

© LeRoy James McKitrick, All rights reserved