January 31, 2013 at 1:35 am (Poetry)
Persistently unavailable.
Perhaps presently too.
Unavailable nonetheless
and so we must learn
to embrace with
(hugs) the truth
(im)perfect wife
who lives and loves
and fails only to try
one more time again.
She puts her arms
around the (im)
a hug and some space
to keep her and
perfect from getting
a shade too close.
Inspired by my post at Strawberry Roan (http://strawberryroan.blogspot.ca/2013/01/imperfect-wives.html) and by doing the Respect Dare.
January 27, 2013 at 6:00 pm (Poetry)
Do you have a minute to spare buddy?
How about 59 seconds of your time?
If I can write it in a minute, will you
read it and tell me in under two?
Change lanes, change channels.
Follow up or follow through.
Table for five with visible
seating for four please.
sssssssscccccccccccccccrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeetttttttttttttcccccccccccccccchhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
NO INPUT
SELECT MENU
Where have the tones and test patterns gone?
Where is the static man, I miss the sound!
Shhhhhhhhhhhh…turn that off it’s too late
for them to broadcast. We are gonna be
busted so bad if Mom wakes up now!
Time. Time. Time. Time.
If you used all you had
instead of lamenting
the moments you lost
how would the world
have changed by now?
Sound bytes. Popcorn bits.
Gritty stuck in your teeth
or so sticky sweet you’ll
be sick tomorrow for sure.
Get the main point, thank you.
I have no time for a story,
just give me the take-away
message so I can get on
with rushing about looking
busy for those who whorship
the godling of static treadmills.
Each stanza here done in sixty seconds or less. I’m hoping you enjoyed them for longer than five minutes! Linking up at dVerse Poets. Thanks Brian for another great bartending.
January 24, 2013 at 11:25 pm (Poetry)
Like sharp knives hidden in the soapy dish water.
Words they wait, sharp edges and safe handles.
Sometimes I get one end to grasp the words.
Other times the blade slices deep. I bleed.
Cuts quick and sharp, no pain. Not yet.
Then I hurt. And bleed. And curse it.
The the words come. Pain or joy.
Pain and joy? Maybe that too.
The words either come or
they don’t come to me.
Poetry is born in my
world fully formed.
Lived fully and
then birthed
onto page
bloody.
For dVerse Poetics tonight. Enjoy!
January 19, 2013 at 3:14 am (Poetry)
When your ears are no longer five by five.
Filled with the words you don’t hear.
The ones you long for and whisper.
When your eyes burn with tears
bitter and hurt. Tears shamed.
When your heart aches and
you wish you could hear
the words no one will
say. The words you
need to hear. You
need and ache
for alone.
January 16, 2013 at 9:14 pm (Poetry)
You won’t know.
Not until you go.
How farmers get
so excited for the
annual ag show.
Parking pickups like
they are super B’s.
Tractors, grains,
inputs and things.
Freebies and eats
farmers love treats.
New combines so big,
cost as much as a house.
A big house. Really.
Tractors, sprayers,
seeders, tanks and trucks.
Gadgets and weirdness.
Farm shows are
the way farmers
have fun in the winter
when they aren’t
curling and planning.
Farmers are a
funny bunch.
Get a whole herd
offer them free lunch.
Wanna get them
out in droves?
Give ’em hats!
I love my farmer.
I do, he is dear.
But to get him
really excited
you need a good
farm show!
January 7, 2013 at 9:01 pm (Poetry)
Tags: family, farm, Fun, memories, outdoors, winter
These are memories you don’t find in boxes.
These are memories you don’t plan.
These are memories made of fun.
Plain fun, old fashioned together time.
Laughing boys. Running dogs. Smiling us.
These are memories you keep forever and an extra day.
These are memories you don’t have to label.
These are memories made with silly smiles.
Plain old belly laughs, mile wide grins on red faces.
Loving times. Snowy days. Memory making.
These are memories you want to share, and yet keep just us three.
These are memories made on the farm and in the country.
These are memories made with simple things.
Plain up the road and back again fun. Spinning donuts.
Moments not captured but treasured. Memories alive.
Sunflower Poetry 