Sentenced to a lifetime of repeats,
rewind repeat rewind repeat
I see it written on the walls
of my mind
the sentence keeps me caged
like a bird dying for light and freedom
of the open sky of endless blue horizons
but it is only a window of illusion
upon which I stun myself trying to escape
and still it stays secreted away
written in a language I can see
but can’t understand
even the doctors are helpless
with their potions and powders
and endless talk talk talk
please just read it and translate it
and tell me what it says
this run-on sentence I can’t erase.
you have heard of run-on-sentences
Milly is full of run-on-banter
if she has a pause, it is isochromonal
nothing stops her inane monologues
she is unwelcome at most family events
the lunchroom at her work shuts down when she arrives
she is shunned, without having any idea why
Dear God,
Let me run on
Until my work is done___
For every mountain in my path
Give me the strength to climb
Let me run on
Until my work is done___
For every river that is before me
Give me the ability to swim and cross
Let me run on
Until my work is done___
For every thunderstorm that may appear
Give me the wisdom to sit it out
without fear
Let me run on
Until my work is done___
O' God,
Allow me to run on
Until my work is done
Dandelions are in short supply the news station warned us.
If you have not had your immunizations it might be too late.
There is a limited supply since people started to eliminate
dandelions from their yards.
A wise group of millennials figured out that dandelion oil
is a fast cure for some cancers, shingles, and ALS.
The doctors vaccinated the sports stars first.
The movie stars were next.
How soon do you think the vaccine will get to us?
Cousin Heb asked me.
Not sure, I replied, but we have dandelions in our yard.
Maybe it would help speed things up if I donated them.
I called the dandelion dream team and told them about my yard.
They were there in a day and a half, grabbing up dandelions
The way eight-year-olds grab up colored Easter eggs.
Here is a receipt for 6, 132 dandelions, the driver told me.
A check will be mailed shortly.
I do not want a check, I want the vaccine, I told him.
Sure, sure, he said, nodding his head, pretending to agree.
I have called their headquarters eight times this week.
I guess the answer is that commoners are not getting the vaccine.
This man refusing to enunciate
who sounds like someone’s missing marbles found
by his mouth took a vote in which escape
has hands-down won against rolling around
a schizoid tongue by an everyone-but-one
to one-against-which-one-won margin, stubs his toe
on stakes in the ground and moves swiftly on
from religious talk to an amputee’s hop,
thus dealing a crippling blow to choked upon balls
made of glass in so doing, shifting their hopes
from tongue to a$s until no-one calls
no-one else for help, assuming he’s dead as the Pope
who still enjoys a game of quick marbles
with only himself and ghosts of the gargles.
Running on top of water?
Sure, I can.
No, you cannot!
Watch me.
I’ll be Dwammed!
The green basilisk puts out her hand for the five dollars.
Which is just heavy enough to drown her.
The chimpanzee smiles as his five dollars rises to the top.
Third time today.
Life’s Buses Never Run on Time
Life’s buses never run on time
so I wait, in stoic supplication,
for a god who has no schedule.
Coincidence decides the crossing
of our paths, spontaneous reunion
of faith and practicality disappearing
in the dirt of city streets, nameless
sojourners jostling for “personal”
space, waiting to be disgorged
into those awaiting passage.
Illiterate traffic signals give
us hand signals – WAIT!
WALK – DON’T WALK.
Pavlovian elevators “ding”
signaling those waiting
that the door is about to open.
The waiters fall away
silent contrails left behind
in the slipstream of life’s waiting.
1/24/2016
Submitted to – Becca’s Inspiration “Waiting” – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Craig Cornish
no ink in my pen
and my thoughts have all run dry
i'll not write again
The raining of your path way
Came into view
Like the taste of the sun
Giving rays dew
Words stop telling
A sign to wait
Contentment ending
Desiers mate
Long suffering
Making a time to fly
Endurance still in play
Giving light
(Spare Moment)
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