On the Givers and Takers and doormats of the world:
Lost in thought
buried in thought
so many idea and words and pictures
an endless chain of might have beens
tied around my neck
dropped over my head
by hands who were glad I was there
and thankful that I was such
an understanding friend
right up to the end.
Photo A.M. Moscoso
I have cracked open a lot of eggs in my time but I have never cracked one open and had two yolks plop out.
I know that there are lots of stories about double yolkers that involve death, fertility and big hens but that aside it is pretty cool to have something out of the ordinary turn up in your kitchen while you’re waiting for you toast to pop up.
second best, third and last
a few words
to a dead woman
who was never alive.
Gliding not soaring
How far, how long will you travel?
Open sky, empty grave
Streets named for dogs and flowers and lost lovers
Twilight eternal will you find the land of fallen stars?
Tongues in torment
brain cells starving in darkness
and necks bent in permanent subjugation to the Gods who dwell in the hills of Bellevue and are housed in finery by Lake Union.
The human body
a vessel for technology to travel by
an over designed mode of transportation for a bit of light and sound trapped in plastic.
206 bones, six liters of blood, six million years of evolution
all promised to next years model
a phone in a case bedazzled and cared for
slimmer, faster and more desirable
then we will ever be
to each other.
This was inspired by a Writing Prompt where you pick three spooky words and write a poem or story based on the words.
I chose Banshee, Corrupted and Creep.
corrupted, cursed and revolting
it’s pooling in a pond where I used to feed the ducks.
Who will cage it?
will anyone swim in it?
Who will watch it creep towards the shore?
Will anybody grab a bucket, sponge scream out in fear
more likely then not
everyone will pretend as if it’s not there.
corrupt, cursed and revolting
I wonder if the Ducks that I used to feed
wished it wasn’t there.