Tag archives: upward

Sugar and Lies

Write a poem about living with lies.

We crawl the sky for top shelf lies
so many sweet butter promises
so light they flutter, almost free

but the floating lies turn to stone
and the sky let’s the lies tip down
forward and backward they twirl
Smacking past clouds
until they sink past the tree limbs
numbing in the crisp world
dipping through the grass
through the brush and dirt

under burrows they leak
bleak thunder blue
crusting our feet like snakes
from the cratered world we embrace
with eyes upward.

Stop Go, Home

“Write about taking the subway.”

Back and forth it collects me.
ancient metal sea
The train holds a current:
heaving the world
hole to hole.
Trickling time in between the stops.
It takes us home again.
Buzzing with bruises,
bleeding with groans.
it strides with burst after bulge
with secret navigation,
tumbling the world on a preset track
until it crawls upward
 
and the sky breaks free.

Middle Whims

“The whimsy of early middle age.”

What I learn, is what I gain,
because I see years ahead,
and years all gone.

 

In casual victories,
I tighten my reigns
on my life’s core

 

so it shall last-
on the rough roads ahead
and the unbalanced waves.

 

Sojourning upward,
the only direction for freedom
the welcoming stations around,
and sharpened careers found.

 

No more surplus seconds.
Time to set sail once
and set sail far and fair,
before storms can shake the sky.

Nickelback Nightmare

Nickelback Nightmare

“A poem written from the viewpoint of a beach ball at a Nickelback concert.”

I see no sand or lazy jellies
No sticky smiles by the sandcastles.
I smell no salt or laughing splashes.

 

I am a beach ball out of my element
lost in a doomed concert, this nickelback nightmare.
from above, I see humanity rambling
notes scrambling, the chorus confused.

 

I am chained to a frenzy churning.
Their appetite like snakes insipid,
my cries sinking under wrestling waves
of sweaty crowding, bumbling fist bumps.

 

Now musical afterthoughts pelt me
down to the pits of human sweat.
It must be only a dream, for the dreams always end
on the bustling beach, my sandy domain.

 

My life distant as the dolphins
instead, these humans hold me
in this smelly lair of hair and pain.
Forever no beach to float me.