Best Wormed Poems

After all these years, we've weathered many a heavy storm
Now my life is empty with no one to keep me warm
Bitter tears I've sadly wept, I begged you not to let me go
You couldn't look me in the eye  - you didn't want to...

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There once was a picture that wormed itself into my reverie
On a gray, cloudy morning, whilst it was raining and cold.
In this one picture were four slices of toast and five beverages.
Three glasses held tea the color of honey, and two were raspberry tinted.
Somehow it...

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When I was young, I took ballet
or in the sun with friends I'd play.
but once in school I learned to read,
on stories I began to feed,
especially when days were grey!

Upon the bed or couch I lay
for hours, and nobody could sway
me from it! It became...

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Walk out to ocean, this stony pathway,
Folk story declare, twas a snakes byway.
Climbed from sea, wormed onto the hidden cave,
Men explored and commune, the knowledge crave,
This legend lives on, even to this day!

Along the horizon, dawn caught away,
Rides in with glory, it's mystic gateway.
Morning shines...

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I am an evening of scented season,
wondering if you've given me
this stairway with the gold curls. 
Who changed her name to Stacy?
Later in my throbbing red heart,
you were forest green and lush apples.

I have learned to pick my apples,
the reddest ones no matter what season.
Then...

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The old widower kept a tidy yard.
Bright flowers -snowball hedges,
a sparrow house and apple tree
gnomes chasing ceramic frogs
pinwheels spinning sunlight
round and round silver dreams.
He put a picket fence around his little Eden,
like an artist framing a masterpiece.
It wasn't long before the graffiti ogres wormed in.
They...

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(The writing exercise was to choose three poetry cliches and make them fresh)
(back stabber, after my own heart; and a soul of discretion; maybe more...)

He was a back stabber
After my own heart
Meek and sleek and sneaky
He wormed his way in
And 'innocently' uncovered
State secrets
Private tales
Skeletons in...

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Winter wears on my patience.
Dim dreary days – the grey
grinds and grates the spirit. 
Sleet slushes the street.

I don’t even ask for spring.

Grant me a blizzard
or a biting freeze with inky skies,
just something
to lift the weariness
that has wormed into my mind
and paralyzes.

2/12/2018...

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“Words We Cannot Escape”

Words we can no longer speak

we tap dance over keys 
bruised blackly numb
Winter palette in hand 
Autumn now gone 

across white-washed notes fixated on stark enclosed walls 
the scent of old Lavender swimming in its vanilla escapes us
each word appears miraculously in...

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I do not know how men many we were
or how we went, what we saw on the way 
nor do I know for what ungodly purport was ours
or what goaded us on into deeper uncharted territory 
despite our tortured souls and aching bodies protesting to...

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Life on the edge would certainly become a novel,
if I included all the chapters of my life’s journey
from that of an old soul, from pure consciousness
to egg and sperm colliding, to embryo, to fetus,
to that of a baby, a child, youth, a teenager,
a young adult,...

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Ms. Brenda Brawling borrowed nothing,
but begged life to bestow her something.
Blistered blue when life barely listened,
she began buying bargain fiction.
By and by, she believed she’d become a book ink fly.
Her heart bade she give her own fantasies a book try.

Brenda bathed blank sheets in beaut...

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What’s that infuriating hum,
		that droning, distant, low-pitched sound?
		No one can find its origin,
		but maybe’s and I-think’s abound.

		In my small rural area,
		not all can hear this thing that makes
		me crazy; and no city friends
		hear it at all. It even wakes

		me up. It’s worse when I’m inside.
		Earplugs...

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Thinking I knew you from your smile
you wormed your way in with guile
my bete noire*, my bogey man
long of tooth and without a clan 
I let you in, a worm with style.

le grand faux pas*, angel vile,
seeming weak, yet, so versatile.
Hobgoblin of dread, bogey man...

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Bastille Day for Real
Jean Val Jean French "Mensch",
Rescued "Freres" From a Societal Trench,
Confounding the Monarchy With a "Monkey Wrench".

Marie Antoinette's "Let Them Eat Cake",
Only Inspired the Revolution to Make,
Show the "Roi" a Farce, Royalty a "Genuine" Fake.

"Marsellaise" Patriotically Sung, Bastille Stormed,
Prisoners Freed & Democracy Formed,
Citizen's...

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