Tag Archives: poem

I know why my mojo goes away

Scram, skedaddle and shoo oh ye mood polluter annoying and vile. Well rah-rah you are preaching for your team – as do opponents whose numbers compete. Must be nice to never fret or second-guess every aspect of everything from the … Continue reading

Posted in art, poem, poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

doubting revelry

Excuse me for my wayward attitude. You see I missed seminary ivy. You know there are such things as libraries; encyclopedias; or a sleek swift perched on a line, trilling, while watching the river slide by. And how do you … Continue reading

Posted in doubt, poetry, the way I feel about it | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

soppy supper

the diner drooling regarded supper grateful the haunches were very tender, saying with gravy diving off the fork absently held aloft – we are lucky our chef is not cut from a poet tree, as in being moody when serving … Continue reading

Posted in nutty, poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment

fated for poetry?

When really getting a good look at the magical actions these buttons are capable of – as in dimension crisscross and zigzag; sober or highly inebriated, well yeah, fireworks ensue – brightly and loud they do ensue. And secrecy is … Continue reading

Posted in poem, poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

the river is its own mind

the emeralds melted and are sliding as a messy mass towards a mental destiny which width forbids the journey from proceeding unhidden – and if unbidden or given unhindered freedom to pass is at this point immaterial as well as … Continue reading

Posted in nature, poetry | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

masks in the millions

Consider assuming the opposite stance the poisonous thicket occludes equally true, as what masses observe runs to bear witness to the obscene passing in turn for ornament glitter and maybe isn’t what they say it is or even what an … Continue reading

Posted in free verse, no idea, poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

and another thing

Way back when I had to look up what you mean because I keep forgetting I ain’t eighteen no more, as in that distant misty era to be a patriot meant hedonism which doesn’t necessarily mean to me what I … Continue reading

Posted in poem, poetry | Tagged , | Leave a comment