Archive for the Splake Category

nada mas maybe something more by SPLAKE

Posted in Splake with tags on May 1, 2018 by Scot


death often comes fast
life ending quickly
collapsing on treadmill
running to eagle river
body pitching in tall grass
rocky wilderness path
climbing in the clifffs
face down
kitchen table ending
unfinished poem
left in mid-sentence
final act without
meaning or conclusion
poet’s reputation
rapidly disappearing
collection of writings
gathering dust
in university archives
remote possibility
zoschke’s literary remarks
“city lights” bibliography
will make others note
another henry darger
writings and paintings
finally recognized
after quiet driven life
sad artistic despair
after years of working alone
starving artist solitude
everything suddenly lost
creative works forgotten
but something might exist
between reality and nothing
in different dimension
poet discovering
richard brautigan real
living with pauline
gentle life together
piney woods wilderness
working on new book
writing in little shack
north of ideath
learning much wisdom
from grand old trout
living upstream
near statue of mirrors
enjoing black watermelon days
delicious soundless feasts
often exploring forgotten works
finding special things
apple pie coffee breakfasts
sweet bluebell flowers
warmly embracing pauline
trout hatchery dances
watermelon sugar happiness

final journey by t. kilgore splake

Posted in Splake on November 30, 2014 by Scot

beyond male menopause
swollen ankles
varicose veins
throbbing arthritic pains
shrunken prostate
erections distant dream
daily pressing confidence
so not scared
by threatening demon terrors
passing memories
i was young once
retreating from society
returning to nature
more comfortable outdoors
forgetting wasted years
no more Americana
red white blue patriotism
my country right or wrong
abandoning religious salvation
god doesn’t answer prayers
there is no heaven
miracles don’t exist
finally refusing
to live as others say
sad empty words
only false front
suddenly becoming real
writing feelings in poems
frequently visiting cliffs
sacred wilderness sanctuary
hoping soon
to understand life’s mystery
join granite scree
last climb
without any baggage
camera or tote bag
paintings and prayer flag
for splake poet tree
finally at peace
quiet gray ghost
ready to become a

–from Long White Memories

(splake intends for this to be centered, but wordpress has made that option difficult to find)

Four Poems by SPALKE

Posted in Splake with tags on August 26, 2012 by Scot


“nada mas”
dying final breath
first caught my attention
after hemorrhoid surgery
battle creek hospital
suddenly aware
not bullet proof
years later
marquette morning darkness
chilly loneliness
following mri scan
loving beautiful woman
relationship sadly ending
moving on to other things
immediately feeling
life’s black hole
hoping a little more time
poems yet to write

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Occupation Interupted for this important message from Poesy

Posted in Splake with tags , , on December 15, 2011 by Scot

Stop the revolution long enough to read Brian’s review of t. kilgore splake’s rusty truck press chapbook–facebook.

and while you are there pick up a copy of Poesy– one of the best in the small press– dedicated to Scott Wannberg

magnum by splake

Posted in Splake with tags on July 30, 2010 by Scot

city limits fading
rearview mirror shadows
easy quiet miles
early morning darkness
memory drifting back
late night years ago
brain-skull cavity numb
cheap old milwaukee suds
holding .357
remembering scary stories
others saying
“violent recoil
smashed the gun in his face”
carefully squeezing trigger
fiery barrel explosion
red line of poetry
aimed toward heaven
killing god
wounding angel or two
scattering milky way
this morning
testing ancient gun
insuring no malfunction
like empty hammer click
moment of truth
when seriously needing
holy ticket to ride
trip to new reality
standing besides brautigan creek
trailhead start to cliffs
aiming at distant trees
“no not now”
fatal ricochet mistake
smith-wesson exploding
earth shaking tremor
poor rock gravel
moving beneath my feet
suddenly head
feeling full of cotton
silently thinking
“eh eh eh
can’t hear anything”
in blurry first dawn
of other writers
alone and unloved
lost in mind-fuck depression
also knowing
when words vanish
nothing else remains
except final goodbye
existential poetic adieu
randall jarrell
walking into car
north carolina highway
weldon kees
leaping off
san francisco
golden gate bridge
lew welch
leaving gary snyder’s cabin
california mountains
with 30-30 rifle
body never found
brother brautigan rotting
bolinas west coast apartment
now trout fishing
absaroka mists
dreaming of ianthe
watermelon sugars
old papa hem
dazed vacant stare
sawtooth mountains too close
toes in shotgun triggers
young beloved adriana
patiently waiting
somewhere across the river
david foster wallace
putting rope around his neck
hanging himself
while faithful canine companions
“bella” and “warner”
not understanding
truth finally setting him free
my .357 magic
warm and smoky
field tested
ready to go
passing single bullet agony
hot violent end
some time
not far away
when failure and decay
reach beyond my life
erasing new poem

growing up by t. kilgore splake

Posted in Splake with tags on April 30, 2010 by Scot

mother reading me
“little red riding hood”
peter rabbit tales
first grade primer
dick jane spot
“look look
see the funny animal”
ted mike casey
kids finding sesame street
bert ernie bigbird
abcs counting to ten
now graybeard climbing cliffs
seeking rogue coyote
looking for wisdom
deep yellow eyes

ghost road by t. kilgore splake

Posted in Splake with tags , on April 29, 2010 by Scot

mother and father
fleeing poor michigan farms
banker owned acres
like midwestern orphan train
‘placed out’ kids
raised in methodist “goodness”
white bread Americana
taught sex not delightful
sunday visits to cemetery
visiting  relatives graves
dad always working
money buying new things
mom pushing culture
piano lessons high school band
rare summer family picnics
sandwiches and lemonade
pressed to get a job
move up ahead
reading books
watching movies
finding my real self
writing poems
what i was born for
young boy
suddenly old man
not believing in heaven
empty eulogy words
waiting morphine narrative
or .357 wisdom
wondering what happened
to ancient family album
faded brown photos
smith and anderson past blood
garage sale bargain
vanished in dumpster
dusty archive shelf

original sin by t. kilgore splake

Posted in Splake with tags on April 28, 2010 by Scot

sunday morning church
young children’s class
coloring inside lines
bible story pictures
never realizing
adam and eve
fucking their brains out