Way Past Halloween (Senryu)

crusty, is it not?
should have bought better candy —
are you still scrubbing?

– Egg –



a preview of the unborn
will be filed
under: construction
while I belch buttercups & wonder
why the letters won’t match the thought.

Trivial Trinkets

in prudent dreams the slow walk fast
and spin a standstill void of bricks
unravel clay, sculpt misty weaves,
no magic in this bag of tricks.

when high we plummet, deep we soar,
in tallest shadow’s tiny shade
and youth turns grey in second’s years
this moment, memories shall fade.

I Better Not Sing It…

flutter in my head,
like silk ribbons on a breeze ~
and the child in me
smiles — squints;
while the big hand sneaks up on 12




& the doors swing open.

i pop
a peanut into my mouth,
at the bartender and
quickly unwrap
utterly gracious

time to fiddle
with my new toy ~ i
solve a puzzle, take
the Etch A Sketch or
challenge my mind
at Scrabble

(… maybe lose
the one or other hair
in the process)

& then
kick back at the bar ~
to dive
into words
that sing to me…
from far, far away.

… A bit silly, maybe ~ but oh, well… like you never feel silly singing ‘Happy Birthday’ at the top of your lungs. Heh.

Happy 100th, dVerse Poets Pub… I couldn’t be more grateful to be part of this amazing group.

Lunchtime (Gollum vs. Sting)

played tag
(yes, we like to play!)
in fields of gold

& i lost my mind
(up up up the stairs…)
to you

had my heart for lunch
(is it juicy? is it scrumptious?)
with a pinch of lemon;
licked the plate clean &
left me to do the dishes

so i wallowed
in soap water tears
(not fair! not fair!)
for a while

come dusk,
you can tell the sun
in (t)his jealous sky
(leave now… and never come BACK!)
to kiss my ass.

… a somewhat strange creation – Sting(no, not the sword – the other Sting)’s tune (that I couldn’t shake today) meets my favorite Lord of the Rings character for lunch. Written for Karin Gustafson’s prompt about twins/opposites/divided selves over at dVerse.
Grab your poem and join the fun!

It runs in the Family – A Portrait

the Undecided
neither round nor skinny
a savior of sorts
reliable hero when
the creator is

the Twins
security to
important tidings
to get to the gist
we must pass them

the Skinny One
never walks alone
comfortable in crowds
at the end of the line

the Loner
round and short
abrupt or
foreshadowed by intonation
the spoilsport to readers
the end of all things

(a poem about punctuation without using punctuation)