The house has stood empty
For as long as I can remember.
I’ve often wondered who
Used to live in it and what
Kinds of stories they would
Share with me if I were to
Meet them—would I be glad
That I got to hear them or
Would I recoil in horror.
Sometimes stories aren’t
The kind where everything
Turns out well for everyone.
Cowlick Billy
always goes
up the alley
down the street
sniffing things
on hamster feet.
No one knows
why Billy goes
up the alley
down the street.
Comments Billy
I’m not silly
things are sour
things are sweet
up the alley
down the street.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.
They laugh at him
because he’s weak
by their standards
but they don’t realize
they’ve signed a
contract with him,
a lifetime guarantee
for recompense.
It will be fulfilled
perhaps tomorrow or
maybe on a wedding day
or years from now at
the funeral of a loved one
when they’re as vulnerable
as he appears to be
and for the moment is
but they don’t realize
the spider in its web
looks slow to any fly
circling overhead.
More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com.
I get more than a little tired of
Hearing erroneous “facts” promulgated
By fake news outlets, the very
Same ones that label real news fake.
I don’t understand how people can
Be so consumed by fear and anger
That they believe anything that
Reinforces their baser instincts,
No matter how much those false beliefs
Hurt others, completely forgetting
The most basic humanity.
It will be a great day when our society
Begins to value truth over money and
The shadowy figures that get rich
From misinformation are called out
For their falsehoods and rendered
Irrelevant because truth and
Rationality have prevailed.
An ordinary man covered in a cage of armour,
No where could you find a face calmer,
Than was his in the face of battle,
Nothing and no one could him rattle.
And on he marched with sword in hand,
A single face in this massive band,
Of soldiers and farmers walking side by side,
To defend their country against this great tide,
Of barbarians and hooligans hungry for blood,
To be split and mixed with the soil and mud,
Of this great country of his,
Disrupted from it’s state of peace and bliss.
The horn sounded and the war began,
The River of Red;it ran and ran.
For days and months the war did last,
Into the abyss of death a great number of men were cast.
But then came forth this ordinary man,
With blazing eyes like the wind he ran,
Weaving his way past soldiers alive and dead,
He filled the enemy with horror and dread.
He then leaped into the sky with all his might,
The leader fell as he lost forever his ambitious sight,
The sword driven into the heart and soul,
Of the enemy which perished into the dust and coal.
The king proclaimed a reward just,
His weight in gold and a bronze bust.
The man smiled a humble smile,
And was carried a hero for many a mile,
Confined forever to the history books to be,
A man no more, a God was he!
I’m falling apart
The thread is ripping at the seams
I go to you like you can fix me
Tailor girl, sew me back to the way I was
You keep unthreading and un-sewing me further
I’m just waiting for you to sew my edges back together
Hearing you say it has to get worse before it can better
But you gave up before you could fix me
Before we could work well together
Leaving me to find help in others and sew myself back together
A little misshapen and a little less naive
No longer who I used to be and knowing you’re not either
Water under the bridge,
flooded my memory.
My thoughts became history.
If I could just let the water continue
to flow, to get past my misery.
hand to finger to eye to
arrangement of arms to awkward
assembly of phonemes to lip
to mouth to tremble to even saliva to
eyebrow (?) to smallest particles
of a universe to matter to between
us.
the bathtub’s filled with oatmeal
it has to be some kinda mistake
life’s perverse vignettes
are more than I can take
it’s a no-integrity world
i’m not a no-integrity girl
all one-way roads converge
leaving me no way to turn
a modern disaster of design
it’s apparently of no concern
it’s a supercilious kinda world
I’m no supercilious kinda girl
everyone says they’re in the minority
numerically it can’t work out that way
your calculators are so useless
so smile and have a happy day
it’s a prime number sorta world
i’m a multi-factorial kinda girl
