Casual Poems

Flow Casual

A swirl of color,
that spoon's stirring casual.
Tidal rotation,
moon drunk on a tie-dyed sky.
Easygoing, just flow slow.

Not Knowing

Not knowing is scary,
	It’s unnerving.

I wonder everyday where you are
	And how you’re doing,
		And if there’s a new me in your life.

But you said there’s no one like me.
	Was that a lie?
		It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied.

The scars on my limbs are the only reminder of you.
	Such a sad thought.
		That only way I remember

casual

Was it casual?
Our long night talks and endless flirtations.
Those talks about our futures-as if we had a clue
Things we knew that we had to do
Watching movies on a call, but wouldn't do it without you
Was it serious?
Was it serious to you?
We would talk about everything and nothing at all
My darling little boy
Cosplaying a man
Telling me

A Casual Thought

..then you might say “and so,
What is the point to keep 
Past winters melted snow
Inside your very deep?”
And I would say “I’m not
A warden of my mind 
It was a casual thought -
I really hadn’t tried
To make some sense of it
You’re free to use it then
With wine some snow will fit
So take it if you

Casual

From close to distant, we drifted away,
A smile once warm feels foreign today.
Like strangers again, we awkwardly greet,
Casual glances where my heart used to beat.
It’s strange to think somebody so near,
Could vanish like clouds and simply disappear.
I know I’m to blame for the things that went wrong,
But what’s in the past can’t change with a

The old couple

The old couple do everything together.
They walk side by side by the ridge 
of the ocean. 
They sit in the same table, every morning,
order ice cream, one ball for each:
vanilla for her, strawberry for him. 
Neither enjoy chocolate
that much. 

He is slower, licking the sliding
cream that pinks his fingers.
She gulps. The sound of waves stays

Usual

The summer sun shines brightly,                                    Rooster invites the day light loudly,         

casual raindrops

casual raindrops 
wrapping around my body 
it's love kisses my lips

feel a pulse

There’s no substitute for life.

I find myself,
seduced by yearnings.

I’m flourishing here,
contemplating sin.

I’ve nothing to do
when I’ve nothing but time.

I’m reusing solitudes -
they’ve become ragged.

What’s the answer then?
Should I seal my girly heart,
engage in uncaring kisses
like it’s ‘casual friday’ -
connive brief excitements
- just to feel a pulse?

Casual Frog

Casual frog with a Heidi ho hay
Loving his rest, at the end of the day
Sliding down into a slink because it is May
When we walk by he can barely muster a “hey!”

He is so rested, relaxed, but in no way refined.
Nothing bothers casual frog, he never does mind.
We watch him, admiring type D, which is

Stop Light Operators Go On Strike, 'Bring Back Casual Friday' Headlines Read

the little mice
that operate
traffic lights
recently went
on strike.

they said 
it was the working
conditions, 
but if we're 
being honest,
I think it was
because last
year the city
banned 
casual fridays.

have you ever
seen a mouse
try to put 
a tie on? It's a 
tough ask for
their little paws.

anyway, in their
absence, the city
emergency hired
frogs to code-switch
reds & greens.

it's great to see
little amphibians
march to

Casual Cadence

rhythm of a voice
modulated pitch
in one breath length

Four Cafes

Riotous revellers' laughter drifts up from their apricot lit late night haunts, four cafes are notoriously avoided venues for overindulgent consumption of alcohol. 

 Across the street, from my thirtieth floor apartment window, remote portrait of bodies bent enthralled over their beers, 
toads on stools at mushroom stem tables. 
 
 
  Flicker of

Casual Constellation

red dwarf stars compete 
to over shine giant stars ---
the polestar simpers


30 January 2023

Casual Clown Does Not Get Riled

Casual clown witch sat dangling her legs on a crate.
Nothing upset her, she leaned into an easy light fate.
Whatever happened did not affect her in the least.
She never got riled, she was the happiest beast.

We asked her about her secret, her motto, her creed.
Easy she replied. I dance, paint, write poetry and read.
I never let

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