far into the woods
as I beat my drum,
linking nets of words –
catching a catch
along the edges
of a deep dark forest….
find only kin
with this spin.
UNDER THE TARPAULIN
it’s a write aid –
stand up made maid
behind me in a –
seamstress mistress flowing
in white cloths,
and swirling in all her threads.
the elevator is rising…
ready to rip
through the tarpaulin!
OPERATION SIMPLIFY
in my board of works,
this world is going
to give bear –
a man an offer or offerings
of some bread
for sustainable living,
whether or not,
i continue to goto food pantries
in times of need.
I’d like to think
it’s a sign of strength,
rather than some better than me
thinkin they are a blank star hero
driving down the street.
radiance has a way
of showing it’s ugly face.
that’s why a metaphor
is a great thing
when I come to the food pantry
on a line by line pickup on paper,
that shows a little value –
go figure!!
POP CRUISIN INTO COUNTRY
it’s a hip hoppin –
wanna hit the ramps
off the charts –
in a jingle,
wanna be a single,
in this die hard world,
to stoke up the fireplace,
in a runnin be romantic –
that can well be sure
lovers will be coming here,
where old habits
of love’s burning old moon,
is a deep hot blooded –
remember we have gathered
to make the rounds
upon the stompin grounds,
in a sing along song
down a dusty road
with pop cruisin into country.
A SPREAD OF POTION
it’s a spread of honeymoons
in the honey moons
of love streams,
in all out convictions,
as if magician suddenly appeared
waving its wand,
in a great flowerful courtyard,
near a little country inn,
where peace and leisure occur,
not far away from a market place.
at this timely moment,
a wise man stood up
from a street bench,
and said, “a true miracle hides
within all of us.”
SCHEME IN THE TEAM SCENE
it’s a savage
get a beastly drink
in the marketing rink,
with an eye for targeting
a life to be rich
in a glory of joy,
and a smidget in widgets
bouncing off the walls in romance
in the little things.
is there room for a sing song poet
in the world all over –
where the good stuff
just drops in my lap,
like a little magic.
this i swear is a companion –
in a got something
underneath a poor
workingman’s sweat ridden
cowboy hat to boot
in a dripping poet’s manuever
with a scheme in the team scene.
The Pieceful Memories
Source: The Pieceful Memories
