Tuesday, December 1, 2015

Gorgeous Sorceress

Gorgeous Sorceress,
a boot hiked and a knee bent,
she thought there was more to this.

Spell cast, how long will it last?
Bare trees for a season?!
She’s fully clothed, so the trees scream, treason.

The grass is of a multi-color affair,
the same can be said of her head of hair.

Is she looking for a buried wand or broomstick?
Standing on catacombs, underneath where tombs went.

She’s got a smirk while her heel’s down in the dirt,
devising her next plot, plotting value of what it’s worth.


Monday, November 30, 2015

Hung Up Skates

Hung up skates,
hung up, kept swearing to skate at a future date.
Looks like all swearing and no action happened to those fucking skates;
At any rate, even the ice in skate tried to motivate those ice skates.

A fussed date in a rusted state;
take a date in these skates and it’ll become a historic date!

No maintenance gives a false sense,
then complaining later of the way it went.

Past their prime, no one took the time to gather more than one lace,
kept the last one to hang it’s own fate.
It’s like displaying your defeated face and putting it on display for all eyes to partake.


Saturday, November 28, 2015

Friday, November 27, 2015

Toasted Peanuts

Toasted Peanuts - Roast em’ like them Warriors - Boasted team-ups.
Peanuts bagged - sew them seams-shut.

5 cents means 5 pence consumed by 1 2 3 4 5 sense.

On wooden table, a ladle cradles a cider’s fable.
In Cider’s tankful, I think it could be taint-though…
Then I realize, I’ve had two glasses,
I guess that means I should be thankful.

I start to wonder, will anyone listen to the story I have to tell?
Will they shrink me from a tower, lay me on antique boxes, like this rustic bell?


Thursday, November 26, 2015

Bus Feet

Let’s not speak about how life’s not fair…
Courage in life is expected,
like feet stepping on a bus, expected to pay fare.

Rumbled feet step in a bus,
grumble speaks,
change it up,
be the one who smiles with teeth.

The routes we choose,
are not always the outcome of our dues.
We can look and admire others,
but the saying will always come back - our own shoes...


Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Kris Kringle Jingle


I got this Kris Kringle
jingle in my mental wrinkle
Soon to be Christmas,
an evergreen conifer
on my hit-list"

On a tree, bulbs and stars,
On-Star - navigating trees inside of cars.

People eat and fill sinks full of dishes,
playing secret Santa - fulfilling each other’s wishes.
Aunt Maddy gossips in the kitchen and fully disses
Her nephew brought over his fine Mrs.
Aunt Maddy eyes a body she now misses.

Aged body, once a hot toddy,
now it competes with yoga pants,
stretching minds every which way - call it mind pilates...


Tuesday, November 24, 2015

Yarn Booked

Yarn Booked
This is the place where my sweater’s birthplace took.

Reading ledge, yarn frays
and lives on the edge.

At rest goes a long needle,
a test - in nature, trees are chewed
by wrong beatles.

Yarn takes a reading break,
at a fleeting rate,
imagination forgets what to make.
Don’t hesitate, be sure to make at a constant rate…


Monday, November 23, 2015

Holding on to Hope...

“Holding on to Hope,
she couldn’t find it, so she held on to me instead”, the railing wrote.

“She grabbed me tight, a bit mean.
Yeah we may have rough played when she jumped me,
but I refuse to be blamed for her ripped jeans!”

Discerning look was all it took,
It triggered the camera, so the picture took.

This glare was shared, on multiple screens, multiple stare.

Arched feet dreamt of ballet,
but like this parking lot, it was empty
and action was its missing valet…


Saturday, November 21, 2015

Food Cart No Heart

Food cart no heart,
he thought he’d put it on milk crates and call it art.

Food carted and drinks in the cooler,
sitting there learning something new - Buehler.

Missing so much heart,
couldn’t afford it on his shirt that should say I heart New York.

On his head goes a paper hat,
in his head he thinks, ‘A keg I’ll never tap’

So in his lap, and on his phone, he redeems an Uber code.
What’s missing from this picture, he thinks, ‘Where my fucking truck GO?”

Sitting there at the end of a trailer,
like someone who doesn’t want to pay for the movie,
can’t make up their mind so they squat on the trailer…


Friday, November 20, 2015

Dive Head First

Dive Head First,
And for what it’s worth,
remove your pants along with your shirt.

She leapt for joy like a kid diving for a toy,
she refused to let her dreams drown,
so she devised a diving ploy.

Hands splash water,
hands catch a fish, now she’s thinking sauce - tartar!

Staring down water’s surface,
Poseidon is about to make her forget what thirst-is.

Diving head first, looking quite tall-though
but you can be sure, like her feet, courage is sure to follow…


Thursday, November 19, 2015

HeadPhoned Music

Inside headphones - Music’s fluent.
Head phones, no one answers - artist’s truant.
Pad dreams, limited stitch - fad seams.

Laid to rest headphone’s test,
Didn’t pass, otherwise they wouldn’t be lying on the desk.

Corded rope injecting audio hope,
piped not to one ear, but both.

Padded headband goes a Gladys Knight band,
emotions greater than few,
and like these headphones, sing Missing You…


Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Hand Him a Rock...

The rock that grew up in the pocket of a little boy…

Hand him a rock,
and through his fingertips,
He’ll channel his thoughts,
giving a new meaning to heavy thoughts.

Brimstone, Flintstone, rubble cuddled to the tune of men’s-tone.

Rock Cradled, fingers playful,
two left the rock salt on the table,
they decided this rock was quite able.

Rock in hand as a man,
His Father’s locket,
pictures him as a boy with rocks in his pocket…