Más y Menos, los superheroes rapidos, are tired out today but you’re more tired out than they why don’t you want to play racin’ round the Christmas tree
Tag Archives: poem
The Imp in the Candle
Pebbles pelt and words welt, these weapons came worst this last orbit of the sunbelt, in the sweltering storms I feared I’d melt and my wax armor
Follow Me to the Hollow
Follow me to the hollow in the wood where we could talk until dawn. Run unto the sun inside our galaxy where we could be free. Chase me to the place under the sea, I ever ask you to be true. — Take me to the wilds, our picnic place on Pluto, the mushrooms inContinue reading “Follow Me to the Hollow”
Yuh (slang for you)
If you’re young enough to know what’s hip these days, you know saying hip probs ain’t it, that was like ten years ago, kids these days say
Another For a Balm
Another night of feeling sad, another poem for a balm– like showering each day, I run these words as soap over the sorrow of my soul and the clean scent makes it all better for a little while. *** I’ve been listening to Kate Bush a lot recently, and this song has perfect winter vibes.Continue reading “Another For a Balm”
Christmas Keening
Fill me up, or don’t it’s no big deal I come to the feast hungry, really, it’s fine, I can eat later. Later, when there’s space for me at the table. — Red wrapping paper, winter sleds, plans to wake up early from our beds. As kids, we got dozens of gifts we wanted. ButContinue reading “Christmas Keening”
Midnight Maracas
Separate the sons by surmission party in paradise with permission miss the mark of Mars’ mission. — don’t you wanna know how low you can go? Flow real slow, not here, or there, in limbo stuck in traffic in the limo make me some green gumbo no, I’m not sharing my shrapnel skimpy shrimp fishContinue reading “Midnight Maracas”
Charlie’s ABCs
Attention, Baby Craves. Deep Energy Family’s Gotta Have. I Just Know…
Voyage to Save the World/Hello and Goodbye Forever
Hello, I’m on a voyage to save the world.
Will you come along?
We’re all a little bit crazy here, a touch…
In the Barrow Den
They gnaw not the bones of marrow, for the wolves run tomorrow. Knot the knobs of Nottingham with red tape, the full moon’s crimson tonight and the werewolves are stalking out of spite royal delicacies rich royals on knees too weak to flee– gnaw not at the knots of fraying nerves, they won’t save you,Continue reading “In the Barrow Den”