Some poems that snuck up on me…
pink roses glow full
of life and magic and love
against dark green leaves
***
cold freezes crunching
grass underfoot, crystallized
ice sharp and lovely
***
it is blank. empty.
and I am hungry for words.
refrigerator.
poetry.
life.
***
I am not a haiku
I am more, but somehow much less
I have no tradition
***
play can be most things
sex, love, poetry, and rhyme
just never keep time
***
what is beautiful?
just a concept, imagined
born within the mind.
***
I wish I were black
or just anything at all
but I am a mutt
***
counting on fingers
I never was good at math
enough to get by
***
if I were to compose
a poem each minute here
I could be famous
***
you must write some crap
to find that gem you swallowed
in spring of last year
***
why suicide?
what is suicide?
it sounds like an infectious disease
rather than an action
depression
sounds like an action
but it’s not
it’s negative inaction
it is death while we breathe
***
perfect escape
from imperfect
reality illusion
life?
***
I like my life
more, I love it
to be banished from the ones I love
would be a torture
unimaginable
well, maybe I should be more creative
I can imagine it
I just don’t want to
everything in me shrinks from the prospect
except curiosity
no wonder it killed the cat.
***
to write
is to live
I eat my words
some wholesome
some… not
occasionally
they fill me
more often
I am left hungry
some words
are like drugs
hallucinogens
they make me
dizzy raw
wanting
jonesing for more
