Best Scrabbled Poems

“Scrabbled”



I could write a book
about all your dance moves
fire handed on a platter
heart beating like a hammer

a body of work
glanced at nonchalantly
on an open floor
dance...

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The sand is swept with gleams of light,
pale moonbeams burst where wavelets crest
about sea turtles seeking nest.

Soft seas are flat and calm tonight
beneath the light...

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Heavy, bloated
bleak and blue
I tread the sands 
laid under you

With swollen feet
cumbersome bags
juggling everything
I've ever had
My mouth all splinters  
 a broken smile
to breathe...

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A Poets Dozen Fried stirred put in the Oven
Breakfast Lunch Dinner Dessert they Love it

Your own private Diner a blended Fatata
Served with coffee chocolate makes...

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"Small Mutinies"



So what if my point of view
is not that which wraps 
you in comfortably warm
fluffed-up silky 
cashmere blankets 
of insecure insincerity
simple scribbles 
bleating from...

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There've been times in my life
 where I've just had to say,
 "I must, give it all up,
 for, it's that kind of day"!
 
I...

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THE EMPRESS OF IRELAND

Two mighty workhorses, colliding Titans,
Leviathans of the Saint Lawrence river.
Devastation’s maritime wrecking balls,
Slamming head on, even after the warnings 
Sounding, had been...

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"PreOccupation"

spiced

cut up poetry
divides 
numbers 

intentional 
drivel moved 
to the side

on a blank page
into neat lines
sucked up

a much loved 
addiction 
novel and short

Pre Occupation 
of all...

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As I sat on the wayside fence
Enjoying a bask in the sun
Came by a Mom Duck 
With her soft-downed yellow brood.

She "Ten-hutted" right in front...

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archetypically,
I sow my hysterical libido,
in the Jungian brain garden,
and reap only ecclesiastical weeds,
and subconscious rashes...

breaking apart, engorged, 
mad egoist, freudian slip'd,
spilling repressed aloes,
into her ashen...

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Scrabbled upon the dark cave wall                   ...

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My thoughts are all scattered
My heart is in tatters
In a spin, in a whirlwind
Tried to tell you-
Did it matter?

So much still to say,
No words to...

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sitting at the breakfast table as i eat the eggs you love so much the empty spot still sets here  i cant help not...

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It’s a highway nightmare, or it should be,
but no one’s afraid (too much)
and the road just thunders and hummmms
on and on and on and on
under...

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Night I am cold, though viscera burning,
I have pierced on a spit my torso turning.
Supposedly decomposing, et cetera;
words as per usual, concerning;

Do suggest a plethora,...

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