When YouTube Freezes
When pixels fail to displace
Pixels in the viewer space,
My fingers run in place
Frustrated at your frozen face.
Month: February 2010
Poems in My Couch
Poems in My Couch
Cornered in the couch, I find my seat,
Typing on my laptop to complete
The words for each poem that I find
In couch cushions now flipped over in my mind.
I discover traces of earlier word play,
Feel crumbs on my fingers from cheerios,
But the hopes of finding change today
Will keep me digging for those
That I haven’t come across yet.
Besides, there’s some sort of thrill
In tossing the cushions at will,
No matter what you get.
Snowy Night
Snowy Night
I step outside on a white night
And take a flip-flop walk
where I shoveled the talk
to the side in piles
letting the crisp air race
down the slope of my face
and pierce my lips
with a footing that slips
from conversations I haven’t had yet,
repeating words you’ll never get.
Voice
Voice
Your voice has strength in numbers.
Though it slumbers gaining power,
Your hour will come and the sum
Of your voices will redefine
The power of mine.
Orange Taste
Orange Taste
She ate too many of those Doritos
So her fingers looked like Cheetos
Until she sucked off the orange stick
With a full mouth lick
So as to not waste
The orange taste.
The Couch-Line of Toys
The Couch-Line of Toys
An army of toys deploys it’s frontline
Into uncharted territories to find
The mysteries underneath the couch that lie
Out of the reach of my
Hand’s swipe for figurines and Duplos,
Unwilling to join those
We’ve already put away.
I give up, knowing that another day
I’ll lift the couch and find
The toys, now out of sight inside my mind.
CAPTCHA
If you’re trying to confuse me you’ve succeeded.
The words you write amuse me. You’ve repeated
An automatic prompt I cannot read
And so I type the text that hopefully will lead
To a page that leaves me feeling less perplexed
Than a page that’s popping up distorted text.
Until Morning Has Broken
Until Morning Has Broken
Go back to bed sleepy head,
Stay till morning’s night is light
Then awake and start your day
And break the things I’ll take away.
Write something
Write something
No more waiting for inspiration to hit me
Time to throw a fit we
Can see as either positive word play
Or constipated delay
Of a poem that’s ending writers block
With some poetic squawk.
BonjourPoetry 