Feed Reader
I feel like my news aggregator’s
An enjoyment agitator.
Delaying my ingestion for day or two,
I must make a decision how to sort through
The things I can’t find time to read
Showing up in my newsfeed.
Tag: poetry
Pride
Pride
Someone held up a mirror and I saw my pride.
All over my face was a defense that I’d
Prepared and had ready to go.
I stared at a steady show
Of “but”s and “if”s that I didn’t know
Existed before this reflection persisted
On showing me a token
Of a larger me that was broken.
Asking You Out
Asking You Out
My brain molecules swirl around
Before they form a sound
And right now I’m in that speechless state,
Taking a moment to formulate
That thought that I’ll soon postulate
Assuming that you’d want to date.
A woman in 1920
A woman in 1920
You were prettier blended in interlaced scanning
When forgiveness was panning
At one-sixth of the digital revolution,
And a frame-blending resolution
Added a softness to your skin.
Collecting Images
Collecting Images
I’m collecting images inside my head
So I can recall those instead
Of making up memories when you’re gone
And I’m left to live on
Without you.
They say everything causes cancer
But there’s nothing with an answer
As to why or when you’ll have to go.
Just some time, ‘till I won’t know
What to do with myself.
Indeterminate Progress Spinner
Indeterminate Progress Spinner
The indeterminate progress spinner
Means that I’m a winner
Of waiting…
For an amount of time that’s unquantifiable.
At least this is more reliable
Than the guestimated random generation
Of numbers predicting the sedation
Of my impatience…
Waiting for these digits to disappear
Since the end is supposedly near.
When YouTube Freezes
When YouTube Freezes
When pixels fail to displace
Pixels in the viewer space,
My fingers run in place
Frustrated at your frozen face.
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.
BonjourPoetry 
