rain
- Image by Danyael Rako via Flickr
refreshing and depressing
the rain falls
and falls
and falls
giving life and drowning
the rain floods
and floods
and floods
everything wet and musty
except when washed clean and revitalized
Even the rain is contradictory in my world
Even bad poetry is good, she tells me
Thanks to Jingles for the award. I don’t know many poetry-type blogs yet, but I guess I’d like to spotlight schmutzie’s schmoetry (the title is in reference to this article, not to schmutzie’s poetry!)
Escape Reality
- Image by Brandon Christopher Warren via Flickr
Since I can remember
drawn to the story
of a little girl who falls
down the hole
and escapes reality
where animals dispense wisdom
and flowers stop to chat
where the humans are few
and far between
First Time
Squeal Here
I’m so excited
but afraid I won’t
measure up
surely he’s had
better girls than I
the only thing
I’d improve on
is that I want to
share the experience with
Now get your mind
out from the gutter!
’tis time again to play around with tec
’tis time again
to play around
with technology
excuse me
I think my geek
is showing
desperate or mature
- Image via Wikipedia
fame and fortune were once my desire
now I’d settle for a few friends and a couple dollars
either enough to keep the roof over my head,
or some to help me move after the next eviction.
can’t move a couch by yourself, after all.
I can’t decide if my standards have fallen
as I fall further and further into desperation.
Or if I’ve matured and settled down.
alone
- Image by alison scarpulla via Flickr
heavy loads bearing down
heavy thoughts wearing down
tired and worn out
used up and thrown out
no one left to stand beside her
no one left to stand behind her
no one left to pick her up
higher and higher
- Image via Wikipedia
The world seems brighter
and softer, slightly blurred
fuzzy at the edges
everything more friendly
through the haze
I barely hear the words you say
floating off the ground
while sitting on the couch
Unanswerable
- Image by Brett L. via Flickr
Sweet sleep called to him
An end to problems
Endless nothingness
More appealing
Than the current turmoil
Though no amount of talk
could have stayed his hand
He choose to deny the chance
Left behind, they stand
holding question after question.
Unanswerable.
Boxes
- Image by Funky64 (www.lucarossato.com) via Flickr
My life is contained in boxes
constantly ready to pick up
and go.
A few that are the first to unpack
and the last to be packed
Some that haven’t been unpacked
since 2004
Pslightly Psycho Poems 