Best Plastered Poems

WALLPAPER

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Paper Thin
Cut down to any size,
Crumble, crop me wrong 
Pull the insulation from my heart.
Never will I be "A Paper Doll!"
Thank you for calling me...

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Mission of the Yellow Songbird

A long highway road stretched its legs before me,
In a place where tumble weeds were conceived,
December evening chasing daylight back to...

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AMERICAN DREAMS SMASHED TO SMITHEREENS

Miss American pie has a dream -
whipped cream of tijuana brass.

Groovy tunes quit on smoking grass.
Frisbee LP like steaming saucers crash.

The...

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1/ FOR GRACIE

your grace so sensitive 
other’s pain penetrates
so intense the hurt -you burn
there’s acid in your tears
one more pin hole in your heart

2/ how...

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I'm an enlightened 
equinox, strolling in
faded universe, 
dreaming poetry in
susurrus serenades 
of rustling 
ruby-leaves which
whisper cool 
beamish hues
to my autumnal-
quartz heart, 
when the nucleus 
of...

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I’m trying a new refreshing write
My blessed  Soul word out of sight 
Maybe my view should truly change
Having a good look at new poetic...

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Loud Screammmms
Huge Smiles
Wind beating me so hard
Then
J
   U
       M
        ...

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And then I took this box of blight, and cast it into the sea of forgetfulness

Once I had finally realized, that it had become a...

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Beset by doubts before I rise from bed
Problems prey on my worrisome mind 
My ability to reason has been maligned
Cockamamie notions fill me with dread

I...

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It can’t be art 

Spun in a windstorm of caustic insisting
Plastered like mud on the walls of Pompeii
Frescos of joy before charcoal was misting
Writing in...

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Pineapple pizza with pink pepperoni,
Buffalo wings and brown guacamole,
Little dead fishes in sour cream sauces,
Onions and garlic and greasy red sausage.

Cucumber sandwiches plastered with mustard,
Lemons...

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She was all that and much more
  The child with the smiles and the braids
    White dresses, friendly nods and compliancy
...

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Is He watching?
When my tongue thirsts for sin,
Gamble my faith with filth,
When my tongue spills its worst,
My ears long to be filled with corruption,
When my...

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Not in tea leaves, in shoelaces tie existence--their harsh and meshing material
bound, tethered, undone with a gentle pull. 
 
The bunny ears
and clumsy fingers bouncing...

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Outside...

The cold rain is why my old hat
feels plastered upon my head,
and why the street has a gray look,
as if the neighborhood is dead.
It’s why...

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