About Alan Reynolds

Poet born and raised in North Carolina and now after a sojourn in England a long-time resident of the Netherlands. More than 4,000 poems, many published in US and UK literary magazines and on CD and in books.

The First Blank

The first blank fired toppled Igor from his rhino.
Not that it could have hit him but because
His steed stopped short from panic making him go
Airborne with lousy luck into the jaws
Of the castle moat’s dire guardian, the dogo.
A second blank detonated, making the dog pause
Its mastication of felled Igor’s limbs.
We watched in wonder how fast Igor swims.

2021 April Poem-A-Day Challenge — 5 April

Attack against All Odds

I mop rain drops from the pommel of the packhorse.
From my perch high on my chestnut stallion’s back
I gaze across the river at the black source
of the kingdom’s wealth. The factory’s chimney stack
spews dragon breath. With my spyglass I track
green smoke to where it buries itself inside
the castle of twelve princesses. I ride,
packhorse behind me, across the swaying span.
We gallop. Arrows fly. A sentry cried.
With sorcerer’s sword I slay all the trolls I can.

2021 April Poem-A-Day Challenge — 4 April

Communications Nil

She swore off thinking in iambic lines.
It worked.
She cleaned the cellar.
Throwing out the desiccated goldfish,
Vacuuming the debris left by silverfish,
Hearing Ferlinghetti imitating Ginsberg
In her now less fettered head,
But remaining unscathed
Secure in a cocoon
Of no iambic waffling
And
As a side effect
Of no more thinking
At all.

2021 April Poem-A-Day Challenge — 3 April

It’s All Hunky Dory

The future in spite of pessimists is bright.
The plagues and inequalities will stop.
In two thousand twenty-two we’ll see the light.
At no cost to us we will come out on top.
The Unicorn Resurgent will delight
the Earth and put an end to agitprop.
We will live forever richly and in bliss
And laugh at those who took our fate amiss.

2021 April Poem-A-Day Challenge — 2 April

Introduction

The stranger whom I introduce is me.
I greet myself and wonder, ‘Who is that?’
The manger, room where fleas are wont to be,
allows no sleeping dogs to bark the cat

but it shelters Shetland ponies parsing odes.
I greet myself in the manger and declare
I will get a penthouse when their parsing bodes
well or at least better. That seems fair

to middling. Yet to answer who is me
requires some introductions more or better.
I am, perhaps, the person that I see
in mirrors, or who tries to pen this letter.

2021 April Poem-A-Day Challenge — 1 April

Getting Down in Springtime

We dance the Green Chihuahua. Walls fall down.
‘It’s like Jericho,’ you whisper. Irish snakes
scamper. Can you believe that? Badgers frown.
Singing ‘hi-de-ho’ the god of cupcakes bakes

meringues in a marimba he’s converted
into an oven best for pizzas. Icing runs
out as letters spelling lyrics the god blurted
while we danced the Mambo with a squad of nuns.

‘Enough!’ you shout and shouting makes it so.
The snakes and nuns and badgers exit right.
They do the Mashed Potato as they go.
We applaud and douse the lights. A splendid night.

Good Luck Dancing

They danced the Light Fantastick, they: hoi polloi and the stars.
You and I danced the Green Chihuahua way employing bumper cars.
This made sense in several senses a smidgen of which were sane.
We were intensely mending fences when the pigeon witch exclaimed
That the dragons were arriving with their tempers set on Burn.
We dosado’d and halfway through while we were back to back
The loup garou came bulling through and blew the dragons stack
To whence they came if that’s a word. It’s not heard often since
The pigeon witch proscribed odd words. The texts grew awfully dense
But we escaped by dancing on and then by dancing off
To great applause from one small dog and cries of Mazel Tov.