Dan Tompsett

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saiom's picture
Joined: 2001/09/14




From the poem Bitch Bitch Bitch

If you don't want BIRDS

to eat your APRICOTS

don't GROW them

in the AIR



From the poem 'Class':

We are a match made in heaven.

I wonder if we would be cheaper

made in China.



~Readings in the Wild~




Ravens cry poems for other ravens,


but the wolves also listen.




Together they prey

on those not into poetry



I see Venus

is drunk again this morning.


A-totter on her orbit, 

white, wine-stained dress,

ankle length and out of place

in the Blue Room.


The bartender

looks up at her from the sports page:


"It's not still dark, he says,

it's just not light, yet.


~Oops Mondavi~


Stupid styrofoam cup

can't stand up to wine pour 

fall down on poem

make it red.






saiom's picture
Joined: 2001/09/14
Ballad of the Miss Vonnda Lee


Ballad of the Miss Vonnda Lee.



by Dan Tompsett



The fisherman welcomed the rising sun as he

set his lines in the sea.

With hopes that a little luck with the tuna would be running for

him and his boat, the Miss Vonnda Lee.


The ocean was calm as he steered for the deep.

A westerly breeze whispering softly.

"We'll plug the hold before we sleep!" he vowed to himself

and his Miss Vonnda Lee.


All at once the baited lines stretched tight. Every hook

held its struggling bounty

The fisherman pulled and gaffed all day until dark

called an end to the bite that blessed the Miss Vonnda Lee.


While the fisherman put the last fish in ice he felt the

wind turn southerly.

As he scanned the sky he heard an ominous sigh

in the rigging of the Miss Vonnda Lee.


The fisherman at once set a course for land

in a thousand fathoms was no place to be

as the wind reached gale and the waves did stand

above the mast of the Miss Vonnda Lee.


With nine hundred fathoms still beneath him the ocean made its claim as

it took him down to her cold, dark, realm a final vision to the fisherman came.


He saw his young sister in a beautiful garden of wild flowers and

blossoming herbs. And who would know why of all the faces he'd known

the last one he'd see was hers.


And who would know why at that very same moment in time

a young woman had painted a canvas in her garden by the sea

a scene with a man she had known all her life was smiling and 

waving good-bye from the deck of the Miss Vonnda Lee.




saiom's picture
Joined: 2001/09/14
The poem Nests So Shallow

~Nests So Shallow~


The killdeer eggs were crushed, today.
Tractor tires ran them over.
Mom frets and peeps
then moves on.
There is no need for her wounded wing act.
The deed is done.
Dad comes home and finds the mess.
Checks out his tail feathers with his beak.
There's rain in the air.


apologies to Dan Tompsett for not reproducing the original spacing