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.
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
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
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.
When We Write
Sometimes I skew my point of view
To write as I instead of you
But other times I choose to do
Without the I that you pursue.
Perhaps if you or I convey
The pronoun that I chose today
To be the speaker I’d relay
The words that you yourself would say.
Complacent Linger
She made eye contact then smiled and looked away again
I couldn’t help but notice that our eyes would meet up when
She’d raise her head and glance to me
To see if eyes would dance and be
Slowing down flirtatiously
To linger more complacently.
When Sleep Calls
I can hear sleep calling
Loudly in my head with a “go to bed”
That keeps me stalling
Since I can’t sleep through his speech.
He’s too noisy, so my slumber’s out of reach.
Warp Drive
I feel like I’m going at warp drive
When the snow comes alive
Off the hood of my car.
And Though I’m not going very far,
I feel the rush of 35 miles per hour
Thanks to the 4 cylinder warp-drive power
That I’m steering on my little car trip,
Sliding sideways in my starship.
Ice Scraper
There’s a pause when I’m running late
And step outside to see the state
Of my vehicle covered in ice and snow
Because at that moment I know
That I’ll have to get under that frozen glaze
To where my ice scraper stays.
Untucked or tucked
I quickly turned around, realizing that something wasn’t right.
Leaving through the door I put the sign back in my sight
So that I could examine it and understand why
All those women were giving me the eye.
I looked back and forth between the two signs,
Then down at my shirt thinking mine’s
Obviously not tucked in.
BonjourPoetry 