Bad Poetry from my Youth #2

Never Go Back You can never go back except for when you do. Her eyes still kiss his softly, secret — never ends A vision of youth ten years fade — never werer. Lines grow lighter, lighter, love is young, and bold, and proud… reborn. Hairline stretech, reaches forward (afro blowing in the wind) stretch…

Miss dePoint

dried grasslands wave thin arms dancing — a concert to which poets are not invited. their conductor flares; crescendo to follow answered in nodding consent. brown-armed orchestra rises; western winds sing harmonies. poets write of hummingbirds. August 1986

Bad Poetry from my Yout’ #1

I’ve decided to start a new feature because … boredom. I have tons of really bad poetry from my yout’, which I shall inflict upon youse unsuspecting bloggers. Paying the Piper I tried to explain to the gas company why I couldn’t pay the bill and still feed the kids but, I realized I couldn’t…

Mumuration

murmuration convocation incantation o’er the nation rise above the situation fibrillation, elongation, deformation, oscillation, emulate a cloud formation, pull apart, then reformation. inundation, fascination, eliminate the infestation. tabulation, information, vacillation, valuation. calculation, cogitation, cannot fathom situation. cancellation, consternation, ruminate without cessation, call my goddess for advice, only points to their ovation. no idea, no information…

iDon’t

i wonder if you’d mind if i traded a thousand of your likes for a single smile. would it offend you, could i be unfriended for my antisocially friendly request? i wonder if you’d hear me over the tip-tapping sound your phone makes as you abbreviate our interactions. i reckon not, you see, because though…

Cycles

I posted the latter of these two poems on this blog around 18 months ago, but I thought I’d post both of them to show how writing styles might change, while leaving the writer beneath intact. Cycles, 2013 darkness wails in windswept winter white with dust and frosted dew broken branches, barely bother scraping daytime…

Reciprocity

Infinite rows of tear-stained mirrors hung with nails on greasy walls faded a laundromat grey grimace at each other from across the room unnerved by the vastness shouting at each other too close to hear the words for all the screaming Rows of commercial dryers with cyclops’ eyes stare unblinking at the procession of strangers…

Ferguson, NO MO

I can hear the shouting, though it’s vague and difficult to discern over the clamor of the newsie, verbal paparazzi providing us 24×7 coverage of “We don’t really give a shit, but they never did find that fucking Malaysian plane.” Beneath the civil unrest, there’s bubbling turmoil. “We’ve been here before” and Missouri trees bear…

Him a Shotta

Him a shotta livin life on him edge. Girl by de side, she wait for him light fe break. “Why fe you a romeo?” she say, but him naw respond ‘cau him a shotta, and him too hard fe speak. But she naw sceered a him. His frown mek her wet down dere in her…

Ugly Secrets

Behind secreted, shadowed, sullen smiles a heart-faced child cries freckled tears and staining laughter, if it comes. She dries her cheeks with dirty hands that touch too much and misty, green eyes that hope just once within her gaze you’ll care enough to see. Drowning, draped in sumptuous dresses her shoulders show her puerile pain….