Best Criss Cross Poems

Criss-Cross Apple Sauce
One memory I thought I lost
Alphabets and one two threes
First grade and go mimis
Kiddie snacks and juice boxes
Cookies full of chocolate chips 
Playing...

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Enroling  you a worm (cumbersome and)
hairy, you- scimitar of leaves
Knows the pain ,writhing pupae
Abandoned and convicted
Constricted hanging straightjacket
Squirming like a jackrabbit
Gagged nocturnally - ...

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Her Autumn

Salt and pepper hair in wisps and thin,
criss cross lines on brow and round the chin
Eyelids lower like the setting sun
resting pools of blue,...

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Skating fingers criss-cross, glide down my neck;
Under my clothing feel free to check
For a zipper, a button - my body serene,
It’s far beneath my skin...

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Age three, crisscross apple sauce, hands in your lap.
Age five, scooting a few inches, to let whole class in.
Age twenty-three, fresh out of college, a...

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How long are eight minutes
                    ...

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A Spenserian Sonnet
(Mr. Snake falls in love with a garden hose)

Today I slithered up a grassy hill,
wet from the creek and eager to explore.
The urge...

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(Part One) The first few hours.
I was just a ordinary man
caught up in the unruly throng,
The mob jeering and ranting
insults on the road along,
I pushed...

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Patterns gleam in the sun
Threads lie side by side
Or criss-cross
In intricate patterns
Like individuals intersecting
Within the family
Each dependent yet separate
Blues, reds, greens and yellows complete the...

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They guard lost gardens
Criss-cross forgotten rivers of solitude
All future seasons they rotate
Absolving rage with mute and gentle grace
Sweet angels
Blind to reason they spark rainbows
random, silent...

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Mummified zombies
Criss-cross the skies in frightful
Flight seeking stray blood....

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Flying the California Coast

My California coastline
A song of endlessly repeating peaks
Singing verses of silence
Whispering unknown refrains

Mossy sand and stone
Thinly veiled and misted
Striated curves 
Etched in...

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Silent....
high above
a winter snow melts
A greatly anticipated moment approaches....
dripping drops....
tapping sounds....
trickling down....
small veins reach in a quest....
intertwining avenues criss cross the scape merging in believe
a...

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Driving home, the sun beaming down
highlighting the Quantock foothills
a criss-cross quilt of very small fields
too steep for mechanical ploughs
worked still by man and shire horses

Bright...

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Justified actions com*plicated
things that don't 
matter; unruled my voice 
out~loud. 
Here I speak truth only you and 
I know is just another
way to let loose...

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