Poetric

Poetry

I woke up at the farm And cracked open the Mad Farmer

It felt like the right thing And the total wrong thing

Just like it felt wrong To read a foreward When I meant to read poetry

So here I sit with attitude Having read three poems In the dark

And now I can tell people I read the Mad Farmer at the farm Like I'm some sort of learned man of the earth

#Poetry

Just wait, just watch A future will form and exist Small though it is the Town passes by in your rearview like the Girl you used to be

Livin' comes easy In the out there beyond A thing you won't expect Lonely then full of life this World you've yet to build

#Poetry

Everyone else was rolling to their Workaday occupations

While this group of folk Like so many crows Working together to Antagonize their neighbors

They pushed buttons Picked up little projects Of no import But their own amusement

Sometimes they didn't talk To each other for days Then suddenly With little planning They were pushing towards An invented goal

Realizing Aren't they all made up?

While the rest of us Were tapping our watches And punching our clocks Like they were our faces in the mirror

#Poetry

Imagine going along in life Saying all those things Just talking and talking That's how you got attention

Affirmation Admiration

Suddenly those things you're saying Close the doors To friendships and jobs

Sealed in your little tin can Smelling only your own breath And whatever used to be stored in here

It's like a bubble Forced upon you Around you The only thing you can think to do

More words More shouting More attention

Tighter seals Your tiny, tinny voice Hardly getting heard Such that it needs paraphrased

Until it no longer echoes around Anywhere in reality But only in your head

#Poetry

[B]elow caution

and low new threats

The good but not all free fall. reported below time dropped

[I]n reason Friday While people stay up and use layers feel personal

[D]ebuted mostly by bed afternoon and keeping moderate

#Poetry

It's only proper after twenty-one (almost twenty-two) Years to the bitter end

Three times I had warned you But did you listen?

Hearing is an easy thing So long as you don't have to comprehend The hundreds of words

So even though we have those four hellions I'd sooner punt them to the curb than keep on like this

...

Oh, please. PLEASE DO IT! Dial 9-1-1 and tell them I'm yelling at you My eardrums say it's mutual

Say that one more time I dare ya Yeah? Yeah.

#Poetry

My uncle writes a poem He thinks it's quite a tome The words don't make much sense Not even matching tense But onward he keeps goin'

He asks his brother “What'd you think?” Between sips of his drink His brother says, “Good, you rhymed hood with wood.” His fingers crossed and a wink

I suppose it's okay for a hobby Keeps your kids from the nursing home lobby If the poems are too weak Like they've sprung a leak At least you're not gnarled and knobby

#Poetry

The face looking back Wrinkled beyond its years By disturbances in the waters

Distorted then still then distorted again What you became Become Becoming

One visage across time Interrupted by pulses From a rock tossed out

Knees in the dirt Pebbles like a side stitch Sharp pains

Up, brushed Reflection internalized Time to go

#Poetry

There isn't any good response to it.

Heat rose up My head the ceiling of a sweat lodge All reaction All instinct

Shards of my mood lay in the rug To be stepped on days later

“You have to learn to control yourself.” “Nnnaaaagh! I know.”

Trying to think thoughts in a still-empty head

“It's just...” “I know.”

Little white saviors bring healing With big bumps in the road I can't see coming Until the bounce Cracks my head on the roof

Not even the decency The energy To help clean up I go horizontal With designs To wake up myself

#Poetry

Sit back lovely Look in the mirror

Each dot like the first gray hair The first wrinkle The signs of life The furrows of well-lived

Smiles dug into skin To be seen as happy shadows A dent in the pillow A crease in the sheet

Perfectly molded to hold the memory Of your hand in mine

One of many in this long journey To this recline Looking up At the twinkling of each memory

#Poetry