Apr 03

Thou Art A Genious (Newly Revised, new tittle needed)

Characters: Burkit, prisoner

                    Durwin, prisoner

                    Algernon, prison supervisor 

Setting: A cell in a castle’s dungeon.
At Rise: Burkit and Durwin center stage sitting on a dungeon bench, imprisoned. Downstage is the ‘hallway’ which Algernon walks down. 

ALGERNON
(enters, holding clip board and taking notes)
What a beautiful day to examine the might dungeon of our mighty King.
(looking up)
Oh,  I wonder when the ceiling cracked and made a skylight. 

BURKIT
(raising head to speak to ALGERNON. Sarcastic)
When it rains the cracked ceiling makes a lovely shower head.
Mar 31

Ribbons of Shadows

There I go again.
Playing with ribbons instead tying bows.
Braiding the fibers instead of
knitting them into something worthwhile.
Splattering paint when it should all be put away.
But I love the colors too much to leave them.
I adore the feel of woolen fibers to much to let them be.
I can not stop dipping my finger in the blackness of ink-
And smearing it around a canvas. 
Look- I made a flower.
A flower of shadows.
That's what I'm doing here.
Hiding in the shadows- just for a few moments more.
Because I find the daisy beautiful. The darkness relaxing. 
And the ribbon inspiring
And the fibers soft and warm.
And so I'll creep along in the shadows,
And tend to the daisy so dear to me.
wrap it in ribbons and yarn and love-
Even in the dead of night. 
Mar 26

Moon Dust

I feel the dead of night
it sits like a heavy blanket on my chest.
the stars say hello
as I whisper into the night.
Sometimes the moon joins the lonely
endevors I go on.
I often feel the tickle from a stars breath
Or pick up yesterdays mess of
fallen astroids and moon dust.
Wondering what I'll find this time.
I've stopped squinting, as there is nothing to be seen
I've just listen to the stars breath
The chords
rom the solar system
The rounds sung by the plants, dancing with the wind.
And play with the pull of the universe
Until its colors hypnotize me into a plight of wonder
And I sink to my knees
in the darkness
wanting to see orang and red dance 
with the tears of the moon once more.
All in the dead of night.


 
Mar 25

Poundering Thoughts About Thinking


I thought about thinking
And then thought again
Cause to think about thinking would make my brain bend
And to pounder this thinking of bending is strange
So I thought about nothing real hard for a change
          ~     ~ ​
I thought about nothing
And then thought of things
Cause to think of a void is a thought to infringe.
So I pondered this thought that my brain tried to stop
And in doing so started to think quite a lot.
           ~     ~
I thought about stopping
Which made me think more
How to stop all the thoughts from expanding galor
And I pondered this figure so much my brain hurt
Which was sad cause this thinking I tried to avert
           ~      ~ ​
And there I was thinking
Of how to dispel
All the thoughts that were bouncing around in my skull
Nothing was pondering some sort of thought
And thoughts about thinking is thinking a lot!
Mar 24

Inanimate

People think I need to speak to people like myself
And fear that I am crazy for talking to a shelf-
But really speaking to you is the best part of my day.
I'll ramble on for hours and you’ll never walk away.
And if you don’t believe me, just ask Debra our dear plant.
She sits inside that pot a lot and never wants to dance.
But that’s ok because she gives some really great advice.
I asked her if I’m crazy- she said nothing so that’s nice.
Why talk to people on the phone
When to the sculptor you can moan?
And who needs texting when you have
The faucet from a bubble bath.
Have you ever sung to your shampoo?
They love it and ask for encores too!
The kitchen pot became my friend,
I joke that it’s on fire.
And talking to the radiator at this point is required.
So, talking to your household objects isn’t crazy- I confirm.
Its only when they answer that you have to be concerned!
Mar 23

I'll Tip My Hat


 The phone you cracked- a bow I will

You propped it on the windowsill.

That bruise you got- my hands I’ll clap

You didn’t see the door of glass.

The food you burned- I’ll give a toast

Because you thought to boil roast

The game you lost- I shake your hand

You thought chess was candy land.

That F you got- my hat I tip

Because the page you failed to flip.

The life you live- I say hooray

You did this all in just one day.
Mar 22

The Cosmic Connection

That cosmic connection that tingles your spine
And leaves your hearts gate to slowly unwind
And makes your arms tingle with the breeze from the stars-
Was not how I felt when I met you.
That universe pulling two forces together
And pushing with wind that sways oceans and feathers
So much that the earth stops spinning and smiles
Was not how I felt when I met you.
That galaxy calling, the planets align
The shiver that runs through your toes, up your spine
And light that is showered with kisses from stars
Was not how I felt when I met you.
The jolt was so big that I fell on my face
The cosmic connection and galaxy raced
And both tried so fast, as the universe laughed
As it showed me how much I love you​.
Mar 20

A Loaf of Bread for Happiness

I made a small and measly gift,
Its wrapped in foil and it sits
Inside a basket with a rose,
the pretty smell will please your nose.
      ~               ~
Its not the greatest gift by far
Its not an iphone or a car
do not assume it will be both
Its one sweet simple home made loaf.
       ~             ~
A large round loaf of homemade bread
With flour topping, and a spread
Of honey lemon in a drizzle, 
Its in a jar placed in the middle. 
        ~            ~
I thought I'd give the bread some bows
A celebratory gluten loaf,
A savory treat, a festive food
A loaf of bread for happy moods. 
 
Mar 19

Whats in A Name

My pen name is part of who I am
    A part of me at heart
    It rests inside my writing hand
    And thinks up wacky art.
My pen name is a piece of me
    A special quiet sound,  
    Its spoken as a question mark
    As people look around.
My pen name is a lightning flash
    And thunder shakes the ground,
    As all the words I dare not speak
    Are blasted all around.  
My pen name is a tiny scrawl
   A scribble in the spine,
   A tiny emblem of who’s hand
   Had written all those lines.
My pen name is a favorite shirt,
    A scarf I love to wear
    A necklace of an ancestor,
   A coat I never share.
My pen name is a blooming thought
   A seed I’ve always grown
   The lilac petals symbolize
   The stories that I told.
 My pen name is my silhouette
    A bolder second me,
    Voicing thoughts in swirls of ink
   My secrete identity.
Mar 17
poem 0 comments challenge: Humor

The Sixth Sense - Humor

You should  learn to laugh at things
That do not go your way
And smile at the smaller things
That happen everyday.
And smooth over an error
With one well worded phrase
Then become a prickly cactus
And push everyone away.
When something shocking does occure
You can protect the blow
Just turn the gaze of wide eyes stares
So to youself they’d go.
Don’t you like to see the smile
That appears on someone face?
The wide toothed grin they grant you with
Will always make my day.
You don’t need to be close to someone
To share a laugh together
In fact that chuckle someone made
Will brighten any weather.
And make someone look seen at least
By sharing funny faces
That inside joke you come up with
Will help you see bright faces.
The cross eyed thing you do with her
The word that makes him laugh

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