Poetry – Page 92 – Poetry, Short Prose and Walking

Mysterious Monster

The monster who’s under my bed
Runs mysterious dreams through my head,
Makes me wake up and yawn
But at dawn he is gone
Like a word thought but then left unsaid.

Written for Limerick Challenge Week 14: Mysterious

Feathers

Whether a feather can help a bird fly
I wonder and doubt though that plane in the sky
Goes faster than birds and weighs more than they do
And that mystery’s something that bothers me, too.

Some symmetries seem obvious.
A flat line helps reflexion.
The edge of light, sharp black with white,
Requests a close inspection.

It’s when we take that closer look,
Where unseen details stray:
Coins in the pool, gray trees, some fool
Gives symmetry away.

I Done Dug the Hole Deeper for the Outhouse

Some poetry’s like a dog’s bone.
It’s best if you leave it alone
Or bury it deep
Lest it put you to sleep
Or worse make you read it and moan.

Dualism

How does the one turn into two?
The many into one?
The background is a perfect blue,
The kind that one can see right through,
When one and two are done.

A Thanksgiving Meal for the Homeless Down at the Mission

It’s for the food. That’s why we go.
It’s for a change from everyday.
Blessings come and go we know
And we are thankful anyway.

Some will serve and some will eat
And some will see the faces change.
It’s temporary. Have a seat
Or help with pie. Does it feel strange?

And who are you with eyes so bright?
And who are you depressed with fear?
And who are you? It’s day not night.
And who are you beside me here?

Happiness

We are connected like the leaves
To something larger with strong roots
And it’s connected, it believes,
Which gives it hope to send out shoots.
And that’s connected. So it goes.
No need to question, ask what for.
Happiness: a rush that flows
And knows it need not ask for more.

Limits

My lips got ever close to yours.
They never fully met.
You say they did? I disagree.
My lips but lingered pensively.
You kissed. I won’t forget.

Dance

While algae’s greening in the swamp
And ogres in the forest romp,
The villagers would have a dance,
A masquerade, and take a chance
Some ogre with a fairy might
Pretend to waltz then start a fight.

They’ve never liked each other much
Although it’s heard they sometimes touch.
It’s even heard they sometimes kiss!
But I’d doubt all reports of this.
It’s rumored that they even love.
What can these fools be thinking of?

The dance will give them roles to play.
For some there might be words to say.
It’s safe to meet behind disguise
To look into each other’s eyes.
Of course, they know what each has done,
But from the present, who can run?

We’ll have that dance, no matter what.
Yes, worried folks will worry, but
Tonight we’ll take a chance on change.
Let something, somewhere rearrange,
Then, whether they like it or not,
They’ll get the love they’ve always got.

This originally appeared in Snakeskin.

Boat in Blue

Blown-up detail, black on blue,
Stops the eye from looking through
To the blue-pink water-sky,
Cloudy bubbles rising high
Thrown like soft reality
Teasing, pleasing peacefully
As the day drops toward its end,
Lonely lover, faithful friend.