The poltergeist likes waffles It's why each day. Our flours gone The milk and sugar thrown.

I've never seen a hunger quite so overdrawn.

But still I like the company so each day I try again even with the egg prices beating me more than them

The syrup that stains on our ceiling is a map of daily delights a sticky memory of its pleasure charting the poltergeist's blight

So today we start a new day and waffles it will be or else the meat loaf later will be all over the screens

#poem #poetry #fun

A trill of air splits bark, ice shards cling, then. nothing.

Wind gnaws at the brown leaves brittle bones, to cut its teeth.

A twitch. Thaw sweats from stone.

The breeze sharp as a sparrow’s laugh.

Grows fangs of clover, chews through winter’s final grasping breathes.

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Keep to yourself while the world becomes a breeze To fill your sails To fill your needs That's the joke Your part of the breeze too That wants to move Free as any spirit choosing what it is thats makes you ethereal

realities left to shape when the piano keys press down music flowing out it's worlds end with sheet music burning tears falling music has to be played lives have to be lived

Even if no one is listening

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Chocolate found my tongue From the ancient fingers of my grandmother. She never cared that I ate dinner Or that I'd missed naps Children to her were to be spoiled A rule hard to forget That now forty years since I can still remember being by her bed Listening to her final breaths

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Simple tasks are a joy That I struggle to repeat Because it's not enough Simple isn't easy

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Ive seen magic In making others laugh at funerals In singing through a thunderstorm In finding old photos and sharing I've seen magic That is so common You can't tell me bubbles don't carry wishes to another world.

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I'm what remains when I forgave myself.

But

The splinters of my father's thoughts. His memory, his methods, Are a spike, rooted deep Like a cursed pole Sending my compass To false north.

But I'm his legacy That has to grow above That has to a accept and forgive That has to go beyond.

This is my problem, That isn't my problem.

I hate him and I see myself In my memories of him.

Growing and accepting. Whatever it takes to grow. Whatever I can do. I have to.

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It's not your fault she's angry... Unless in fact, it is.

But she'll never tell you.

She'll says she needs space.

So basically you hover In empty space instead.

It could be your fault.. it could Or it just might not.

The battle is in one of our heads.

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Air tore by my ears and burned For my bike had become a tribute to zephyr Speed building on speed The all but silent world of acceleration Heart, bike and balance almost tranquil As the slope down began to bend My body adjusting as the concrete turn Bite into the tires We glide out, legs pumping Turning my eyes up I see the end of road A gate, a beach, an ocean I stop peddling and glide The sea air whips as I slow Breathing hard, I'm happy

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When I looked away you got drunk Within a few words. I'd see you tumble into yourself Falling down the hill into a dream Except you won't come back up Not tonight.

Tonight is over. A wasted thing That grew in flashing lights And spoke in loud karaoke Truly when I saw it, I thought it Magic. Unbridled youth With all the world's temptation Within each thorny stem

Until the next day, where it lay Washed out, an unclean welp. If ever, beauty showed A dying flower once lived, bloomed, once experienced, the crown removed.

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