‘b’, or: ‘d’

My 1st blank verse Iowa City, Iowa; I still remember snippets of those childhood days; the tree in our front yard that I would climb getting sawed down to a stump for no good reason; living across the street from my school: Ernest Horn Elementary School, where my mother took me to learn to ride… Continue reading ‘b’, or: ‘d’

Black, or: House

A Blitz Poem EPIGRAPH: A poet must be a psychologist, but a secret one: he should know and feel the roots of phenomena but present only the phenomena themselves in full bloom or as they fade away.-Ivan Turgenev (1818 – 1883) Fade away Fade to black Black Friday Black magic Magic number Magic thinking Thinking… Continue reading Black, or: House

Swing, or: Silence

A Blitz Poem EPIGRAPH: A poet must be a psychologist, but a secret one: he should know and feel the roots of phenomena but present only the phenomena themselves in full bloom or as they fade away.-Ivan Turgenev (1818 – 1883) Full bloom Full swing Swing voters Swing state State of denial State of war… Continue reading Swing, or: Silence

Hop, or: Control

A Blitz Poem Chap easily Chap hop Hop to it Hop skip and a jump Jump the shark Jump and jive Jive talking Jive turkey Turkey shoot Turkey cocks Cocks eggs Cocks eye Eye of Ra Eye catching Catching some z's Catching off balance Balance of nature Balance beam Beam me up Scotty Beam of… Continue reading Hop, or: Control

Murder, or: Three

My 3rd Blitz Poem Third time's the charm Third degree murder Murder she wrote Murder on the Orient Express Express mail Express train Train for success Train crash Crash test dummies Crash and burn Burn to a crisp Burn rate Rate of inflation Rate of interest Interest groups Interest free Free of charge Free spirit… Continue reading Murder, or: Three

Same, or: Pass

My 2nd Blitz Poem Not again Not the same Same shit different day Same old Old fart Old school School curriculum School trip Trip over yourself Trip switch Switch around Switch knife Knife's edge Knife in the back Back to the basics Back to work Work around Work it It's ironic It's a bitch Bitch… Continue reading Same, or: Pass

Wreck, or: Over

My 1st Blitz Poem train of thought train wreck wreck yourself wrecking ball ball buster ball and chain chain smoking chain of command command sergeant major command prompt prompt book prompt box box turtle box seat seat of the pants seat of power power structure power save mode mode of communication mode of transport transport… Continue reading Wreck, or: Over

or: Tired

A cheap whiskey for mixing Rinses the mind out after Rubbing all ten digits raw Ev'ry finger tip pulsing Against an inclined keyboard Keys shadow'd by a darkness But new channels have been hew'd Flowing liquid won't settle Above the eyes as it should Won't submerge all kindly in The night's consuming shadows Rounded keys… Continue reading or: Tired