Rain On My Parade

"Once upon a time,"
              I used this phrase to start a verse or two.
My mind was blank,
              and the paper white. What more could I do?
Pithy words and snarky strokes,
              left the parchment clean.
But tempting thoughts, hid
              and called from the unseen.
A Dragon. A tree.
              A valiant white knight.
A demon. A Queen.
              A snowstorm at midnight.
Rubbish and garbage!
              Tedious and droll.
Each thought a doodle;
              unpainted and dull.
Still, there lies within
              the dark shrouded night,
a luminous speck,
              a tempting bright light.
"Once upon a time,
             at the world's end,
                      our story was begun..."

Powdered Sugar Curse

Anything can be said in verse,
the acid that is love
or a powdered sugar curse
like an angelic strike from above

be it a blessing on a flower
or moving little feet
the thirsty search for power
or a monstrous wicked beat

Oh yes anything can be said in verse,
like a powdered sugar curse.

Poems I Shan't Write

In my troubled mind tumbled words,
confused, babbled and absurd.
How my fingers itched and my mind craved
to dig for each a pale paper grave.
But the ink rebelled and jerked and screamed
and yelled that words are life and not dream.
Then I saw scrawled in my path
the adverbs and nouns of evil math.
"Ode to Jock Itch" I have penned
worse still, for I have sinned;
I have written "The Bathroom Life of Men".
And stopped not there, not even when
I wrote the stinking sonnet,
"Ants in my pants, a bee in my bonnet."
And worse to worst, evil to wrong,
I penned the dark humor "Toilet Paper Song!"
So with shaking hand and hanging head,
I burned my poems and went to bed.

IMP

Imprisoned Muse
tortured,
battered,
bloodied,
lost with nothing to give.

You denied me, Muse.
recanted,
abandoned,
retracted,
all I have to give.

I died in your arms.
just another victim
of your broken charms...

I won't say it

I won't tell you I love you for your mind
because what's a melon without the rind.
I won't tell you I love you more each day;
once you entered my heart you were there to stay.
I won't compare you to a goddess, the sun, moon, or stars;
such would put you on a pedestal and me behind bars.
I will not compare your eyes to gems, nor your voice to birdsong.
I will not say that you are my world or that you can do no wrong.
For gems are hard and lifeless things, and birds but prisoners to their wings.
Life goes on with you, dear, and yet you can wound me with trivial things.
No, I won't say I see you as the day we met
for as I see you now, I'll easily the past forget.
No I won't say it now and never will.
For you see, my dear, my love is real.

Cheese?

I like cheese; I really do!
I like cheese; how about you?
I eat it in omelets and on toast
Heck! I'd even slather it on a roast!
I even consider cheese when I bake.
And I make the best cheesecake...
But why do I like cheese? Well you see...
I always put way too much in my poetry...

Blood On My Wrist

A stinging pain belies the wound
Unreal to my eye
Scarlet crimson flowing smooth
Burning on the skin
A sticky syrup
Watery at best

A lying mind, well mistuned
Sees darkness, by and by
Jangled tones to sing and soothe
Vibrates deep within
A mortal hiccup
Going to my rest

A stinging pain,... slight to the wound
The truth within the lie
Void and empty, flowing smooth
Chilling from the ken
An eternal mixup
I go into the west.