It would be better to hit me over the head with a wooden board or something hard because, at least, that would make sense. This constant aggravation around has left me without any kind of satisfying circle. It’s the sound I hear when I… Continue Reading “Poem: Makes No Sense”
Tick tock, tick tock. The mouse ran up the clock. Cheese in its mouth and a mission on its mind. Tick tock, tick tock. It sits on top where I can’t reach. Peering down, taunting me. Tick tock, tick tock. The mouse won’t get… Continue Reading “Poem: Tick Tock”
whack it over the edge, hear the cracking, watch a little dribble out, bring it the above the pan, open the shell further, watch it drop onto the metal surface, listen to it sizzle, grab the spatula, not in the fried egg mood.
It takes to your thumb like a fish in water. Do it a few times and listen to the sounds of the pages. Go to any random number and read a few sentences. Get it out of your system as you know you’re not… Continue Reading “Poem: In the Middle of the Book”
I am not the master of my space. I do not want to deal with this place. I have upset the apple cart many times. I hate the imperfect limes. I fall onto my knees. I brush away ugly fleas. I know the sound… Continue Reading “Poem: Apple Cart”
Get up in the morning. Put on some underwear. Already have a shirt on. No need to brush your hair. You don’t have any. Itch your arms a few times. The scratches before are still there. Only need some pants. It starts the day… Continue Reading “Poem: Pants Come Last”
Sparking about Exploding begins Imploding down Smoking around Darkening ascends Dying flames Shining begins Disappearing near Floating between Illuminating starts
Planes fly high in the sky, And insects fly far below the clouds, But horizontal rain slicing through the air Smells better than thunderous crowds. The lightning rods on the houses, Are decorative as can be, But not as pretty as the crows, That… Continue Reading “Poem: Sky Time”
Know yourself what you will do for others in unrest who call you a shrew. Know them what they do for they are lost with much to eschew.
The tiny cracks too small for the eye to see, too insignificant for anyone to care. When the instrument arrives, only a few will take notice of the fault line. No one believes for long it will happen, and when it opens, they start… Continue Reading “Poem: Cracked Glass”