I am invincible
My bare feet meet the cool brown earth
And I know.
Sidewalks are for lesser beings
Tender skinned novices
As for me, I will stride with confidence
Eschewing the easy path
Embracing the dangers
One toe at a time.
Invincible
Category: Poetry
When I Feel Sad
When I feel sad I might curl up in a ball and sob
Or apply mascara and go out for lunch
I might dance around the room with abandon
Or sit by myself in a corner, when I feel sad.
There’s no telling what I’ll do when the self pity lands
And my thoughts go to dark places. But I won’t do that.
Don’t worry. I’m not sad.
Peace, people.
Haircut Haiku
I cut Studly’s hair
With attachment number three
He speaks to me still
Light
If it’s always darkest before the dawn, then is the opposite true?
Before the dark sets in, is that when the light shines brightest?
Maybe we’d notice then, and make ready.
But then we’d always be wondering, is this it? Is this the brightest light? How could anything be brighter? We must be doomed.
Or maybe we’d just celebrate the light.
Peace, people.
Discover Prompts: Light
The Things We Touch
Door knobs and counter tops,
Paper money and coins,
Credit card scanners and screens,
Gas pump handles, a lover’s face,
Our phones, our eyes, our hair,
Children’s little noses, dogs’ ears,
Cats, when they’ll let us,
Faucets and tables,
Light switches and silverware,
Steering wheels and guitar strings,
The panic button, if we aren’t careful.
Peace, people.
A Different Drummer
When I march, it’s to a different beat, three quarter time, more a waltz than a Sousa piece
Oompah pah, oompah pah, the carousel goes ‘round and ‘round. One, two, three, again and again
White horses on poles, the occasional sleigh, me, trying to catch the brass ring on the downbeat
Hanging on for dear life, even though I’ll go ‘round more than once. It’s not at all like real life.
Loves Me; Loves Me Not
Petals plucked in time
He loves me; he loves me not
Anticipating
Seek daisy’s wisdom
But choose your flower wisely
Odd numbers suffice
A garden’s bounty
Yields answers; questions results
How dare blossoms lie?
(After I published this I looked back in my archives and discovered another poem I’d written with the same title. The original is better, I think, but it made me laugh. It was bound to happen sooner or later.)
Patience
After days in the desert
‘Neath a scorching sun
Failing to find sanctuary
Sporting a swollen tongue,
I fell to my knees
Intending to pray
Lord help me find water
Please show me the way.
A solemn committee
Plucked from the sky
Gathered together
As I lay to die
Black robed watchers huddled
‘Round my fading form
Whispering assurance
Yearning yet to mourn
Stoop shouldered graspers
Nodding their sage heads
Poised for the wake
Preparing to be fed
Through cracked lips I spoke
Syllables faint with dread
Fly away motherfeathers
I’m not yet dead.
If I Were a Writer
If I were a writer
I’d dredge up the dirt
The stuff that stifles dreams
And makes everyone cringe,
The grit that scours my heart.
I’d lay my soul bare
Grieve publicly
Take the blame.
Instead, I’m just a wannabe
Writing about nothing that matters
Where no one gets hurt.
Especially not me.
Statue of Sorrow by T.J. Fowler
Lantern
Carrying this torch
Searching for a man of truth
Even as hope wanes
Dear Diogenes,
Were you here today you’d see
Nothing’s ever changed
Corruption prevails
For all the world to witness
Naked before us
Praying for Eyebrowz 