Favorites Poetry

Pin cushion

Okay, so, my face is full of little pins and needles

That I stick there when I’m not using them.

They don’t bother me, and I just keep sticking

As I sit, hemming endless lengths of fraying fabric.

Suddenly, there comes a wave, a sudden freezing of my face,

Prickling at a million nerve endings, throbbing with defeat.

Enough, enough! There are far too many, though I never thought I’d see the day;

There are too many, and I clutch at the needles that fill my skin.

I rip them out, wailing piteously, spewing convoluted complaints

Concerning everything, save for what ails me.

Favorites Poetry


I’ve filled myself in the wrong way,

Like a failed crossword puzzle –

Let me start over.

Tell me, why should I care about should?

And why would I care about would?

I honestly don’t, and never did –

Maybe I, perhaps with some prompting,

Have just convinced myself that I do.

Can I retire from language and from sight?

I’d like to just be again.


Heads and their bodies

You ought to know, I make the occasional observation

That people’s faces

Don’t really match their bodies.

There’s some disconnection,

A disparity of angle,

Or a weird disruption between clavicle and chin.

If I look at you too long,

I might just start to think

That your body and head

Would look a bit better, separate.



I’ll sow a field with seeds

Of grass that doesn’t need cutting, and doesn’t want it, either.

Growing in soft-edged clusters laying sweet and green on the ground,

Letting itself be combed by the snakes and the rain –

Combed into cowlicks where deer may make their beds.

Favorites Poetry

Drawn curtains

Close the drapes, quickly.

There, between the trees,

Are wraiths that know far too much

From ages of haunts and plots.

So, shut out the light,

And in doing so,

The darkness with it.


I jumped on a bandwagon

I gave Magnetic Poetry a try since it looked fun from what some others were posting.

Here are some outcomes – I strung choice words together and left out the ones I didn’t want.

I don’t mind if these aren’t actually considered poems – again, it was for fun, right?

And a bonus one:


Storm warning

It was drizzling, then snizzling, now blizzarding full blast –

Near two full days of delightful fluff is the frightful forecast.

So, if you so happen to head eastward toward river and shore,

Bumping down the road once more,

Take care and please don’t get trapped under an avalanche.

Thank you.

Favorites Poetry

Ski lift

Up high above the slopes, dangling from a single cable,

I realize with shock that, if clamps failed and chair crashed,

If someone was with me, I’d take comfort in the fact

That at least it would make two of us.



Inherent, invisible, indistinct;

Inconsolable, incapable, incorrect.

Unsolved, the inexpressible interrogated;

Upended, untended, unending.



These lines are too numerous

And too smudged, each shape and tone melding

Into one, big hodge-podge of gray.

Not to mention, the rendering of the background doesn’t even approach being satisfactory,

And my perspective is skewed beyond belief.

Look at the whole, and conclude that the verdict is:


Then again, as they say, isn’t taste subjective? Wouldn’t someone take this in, and love it?

Maybe… but objectively, they’d be absolutely wrong to do so – I am sure of it.

This piece that lacks contrast, proportion, and clarity –

Do I erase… alter… do I dare attempt repair?

Or, do I take a match to it, and reduce it to mere ash?


I stuff it, face down, into my dresser’s top drawer,

And go to fetch a fresh sheet of paper.