Best Tweak Poems
A lady at a window writing,
measuring her words with strict precision.
She takes a sip of ginseng tea
to fuel her imagination.
Memories go drifting by - a brother
playing basketball, the softness
of a springtime rain, the anger
of an autumn sky, a flash,
and thunder rumbling.
Sights, smells and sounds
are grist to her mill. Nothing spoils
her view until her best attempt is done,
but still dissatisfied she tweaks
and fiddles, substitutes a weak word
for a stronger one. At last content
she sets aside her pen.
An old fountain pen; restored to its former glory.
Parchment awaits its clothing of poetry; my grandmothers words appear; not mine.
Another ancestral visit; she’s tweaking me.
King's forest and the Indian turnip like twain a good story never dyes blue
I took a bite while it was ripe tom's hen's can a wails prince snipe
I didn't fall off a truck but that was hot trees on their knees while plants surplant
Hankering tree eight racoon's hand in the plate teaching in nature to wit to what not
must find the truth before it's to late watching stag when swan squalks
entering in crows talk Eagle harolds is it legal weather unfit for regal
Guide needs a guide in the woulds lost pilgrim hiding in another's woods
Humbty took his fall trying to lift spirits from a hill far away tumbles little bird flit
wise owl with scowl swoops missing his prowl You would have to go to india
For this story to be told proper since colombo didn't go far enough east
the west will have to make indian dew
turnips deception lies and who's who
always bite you in the matlocks
don't turn around now we are over half way through
the prince and the pauper grows in forest way
had it been another they might have been dismayed
I believe I shall tweak the moon’s nose, she said to us all.
We thought it was hilarious. A toddler, she was a doll.
I will do it in my dreams tonight, she said. I hope I don’t fall.
We laughed at her tale, it was whimsical and tall.
he wanted to
tweak my ashes
just so
i laughed cause
i couldn’t even
do that
i don’t think that
he really knew
how old they were
so anyway
i gave in and let
him try
he gathered them
gently
smoothed them out
found some thorns
old heart breaks
i thought i forgot
he sifted through
the worry
that hurt my shoulders
the dirty parts
the shame
he didn’t seem to mind
he let them run
through his fingers
and gathered them up again
he decided to mix
them with his
then we drifted down
our sea
and the waves
washed us
clean