the clock ticks on
no poem appears
I’ve a very bad case of ‘tempus fugit’
with inspiration
on vacation
I guess I’ll just have to ‘fudge it’…
#148
Category: Poetry
Rhymed and unrhymed, form or free, this is where the poetry lives.
Seeds of Spring
In the cold darkness
somewhere seeds slumber gently
waiting for the sun.
#147
Shorter Days Means Longer Nights
I gaze upon the calendar
and see it filling up with cheer;
trimming trees and carolling
and ringing in a brand new year.
It seems that when the days grow short
hardy northerners embark
on merriment and shining lights
that celebrate the early dark.
The days are shorter, that is true.
Some days we never see the sun.
but if the days seem short it’s ‘cause
the nights are filled with festive fun.
#146
Life at a Cellular Level
Wireless, wi-fi, blue tooth,
the air is tangled with virtual cords in the remote fear
we may miss a call, a post, a text, and yet somehow
as we bring the world closer under the microscope
of life at the cellular level
we miss the real world as it passes
before our downturned eyes.
#145
Mindset
Start with love
and all you do will
end with love.
#144
The Ice Cometh, Man
Acronymically; a U.S. Government agency or a culinary institute,
As a verb; to kill, to reserve (when put on), or to frost a cake
Colloquially; diamonds, drugs, frozen dessert, and precarious situations (if thin).
Locally; the reason we keep a bucket of sand by the door.
#143
Deferred Reaction
It’s when you push through
though pain makes it hard to move.
Tomorrow you’ll cry.
#142
Chinook Amok
I think someone left
the weather on last night and
the chinook got loose.
#141
2×6
Chipped edges like wedges ripped in pine
and bevelled corners and ornery splinters
that go into your fingers even with gloves
on your hands and your plans and self control
drop through knot holes and seep into cracks
that keep coming back, rejecting
the filler, seems nothing will ever
smooth out the skew that warps the ends
and bows that extend into the forth dimension.
The quest for perfection
in two by sixes is a real trick.
#140
Even Now
Why does it seem
like a faraway dream
of only a minute ago?
Time on the wing
is a relative thing;
a concept you can and can’t know.
Like a cat in box
sometimes here, sometimes not,
even now, there’s a clock ticking down.
Though time tends to blur,
we are what we were,
but were we then what we are now?
#139
Linda Studley 