Hey, Grace.
Do you know where I left my face?
Did I happen to leave it in your lap,
after taking that quick nap?
Or perhaps, after that embrace,
did I leave it in your narrow crawlspace?
No? Oh, crap!
She said, "Oh, that just can't be!
That poem has no semblance to reality!"
I said, "How can you say that,
when it's painfully clear that
it's the reality of me!”
Categories:
crawlspace, cute love, humor, silly,
Form: Light Verse
Liquid stars drip to a sparkle,
look up take a sip get your fill;
Peek out of your crawlspace;
Constellations and chaos cross
feeding poets with wishing sauce;
Eager to share a trace;
Fear not the view of a black hole,
untold may charge your soul;
Dreams falling from space;
Glitter dancing with ebony
creates a cosmic melody;
Fly without the freebase;
That acrid adrenaline rush
will breed in you a need to push;
Entertain it’s embrace.
Categories:
crawlspace, emotions, feelings, space, star,
Form: Tail-rhyme
If there'd be a crawlspace big enough for
a mouse to fit through, it will be no worth
for measured do one pleasure of a dearth
will be a great loss to all concerned more
Findings of a soul well depth is of choice
to best contemplate the resolve pressing
the fleeting passage of time jams healing
trends insurmountable odds, less a voice
Quietude crunches, replace nervousness
and snaps a cranium continued grounds
tethering edges e'er relinquished sounds
of wakes are suitable bite less nerves us
Hope claims honorable desperate needs
results 'wish' that expectation succeeds.
Categories:
crawlspace, allusion, analogy, appreciation, character,
Form: Sonnet
"If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe," ... Carl Sagan
Subtle crafts soundly, using euphemisms,
yet cluelessness dealt a sheltered abyss.
When one confront internal mechanisms,
whatchamacallit ... orphaned hit-or-miss.
A conundrum conspires an endowed soul,
behooves postmortem liken achievement.
Where'er wits helix baptism, buried hole,
an urchin crawlspace, be I foundling sent.
Newborn bid birthright a pardoned envoy,
of mature absence deemed as uncharted.
Internals blueprint designed, bad employ,
indeed, tunnels end--will be lights outed.
Rare conscientiousness temper unknown,
infiltrate hallmark translates as dethrone.
Categories:
crawlspace, allusion, analogy, conflict, confusion,
Form: Sonnet
Sunlight entered the aquamarine potting shed from the east
Beating the master gardener by a few minutes or steps
Ruffled marigold seeds were waiting to be planted in seedling trays
It was March the fifteenth, an opportune time to get things started
Potting shed was feeling joyfully optimistic
She had been shivery cold for the past three months
Her owner had kept her heat at a steady sixty-seven degrees
Muskrats and field mice had left her crawlspace for warmer places.
Mrs. G. arrived carrying armloads of sacks marked Lowes.
Two gorgeous African violets were pulled out first.
Their purple color was exquisite, they were dark and velvety.
Potting shed felt elated when she saw the floral tool bag
Here was her good friend, Jay, the Japanese hand hoe,
Sheila, the sierrated farmer’s dagger
And Hattie, the shiny new trowel – were all eager to talk.
Mrs. G. worked with fresh new dirt and pots for five hours.
The second she left the whispering began.
The tools had been shoved into a closet.
They had not seen much, but they had heard a lot.
Potting Shed sat back and listened to the latest gossip.
Categories:
crawlspace, garden,
Form: Personification
That unshared secret…
a crawlspace of denial
where shadows keep your heart at bay,
lonely all the while
To hide in darkened corners,
as falsehood lends its smile
your mind left cramped—all virtue tramped,
banished and exiled
(Dreamsleep: September, 2020)
Categories:
crawlspace, betrayal,
Form: Rhyme
Why am I here? Not existentially
but literally why am I here in the
crawlspace. "Why are any of us
here?" Woh! Who are you
people?
Categories:
crawlspace, fantasy, funny, horror, humor,
Form: Epigram
Up and wide awake at three AM
some creature in the attic once again.
Running, tapping, chewing on the wood
that can't be good.
I jumped from bed to listen
mad as he-double hockey sticks arisen.
Tapped the ceiling, knocked loud on the walls
the momentary silence was merely stall.
My dog growled and ran along
to question the intruders attempt to belong.
We listened and we waited
sent mothballs thru the crawlspace fated.
The chase was on up in the attic
and the show itself quite dramatic.
Thru the overhang he quick escaped
that spot now securely sealed with wire and duct tape.
Categories:
crawlspace, angst, animal, silly,
Form: Light Verse
Hollow place, crawlspace, where no emotion returns alive,
Broken or calloused, which shall it be, if I had the choice to make
And what is darkness to me or to them, as I attempt to find the solace and sun
The cold has taken it's inevitable toll on the heart and spirit, and where will one turn
when the cards are laid, will we reshuffle the deck?
No, the deck is laid, but maybe a reshuffle is in the future ahead,
And maybe a life depends on reshuffle; no rebuttle, all mistakes and lies one side,
Names in a book, burned page by page, waiting for the bottom to drop,
Pray to see light, or must I crawl to it? My Lord has not forsaken me,
But it is me who made the run towards false ecstacy, trampled goodness and mercy
by the wayside.
There must be reason...
There must be change...
There must be repentance.
Bow my head to the winds, and make amends to the one who reigns on high,
Trust in You, I seek and find; the failure is mine, but I yean for the tunnel's ending
light,
I race unto careless sorrow and hopeful redemption...
Find the hope and strength to rise again....
Praise God.
Categories:
crawlspace, absence, blessing, conflict, emotions,
Form: I do not know?
The House of Snakes
By Elton Camp
Snakes! They slithered here and hid there
And inside the house—how did they dare?
The new owners thought they found a buy
To check it thoroughly they didn’t even try
A paper they signed before purchase attested
That they knew with snakes it was infested
Was it just that they didn’t believe such stuff
Or that to get rid of them would be easy enough
They found the house had thousands and more
In the attic, crawlspace, inside walls and floor
They crawled out into the families’ living space
And ruined their well—what a terrible disgrace
Since any effective remedy proved to be lacking
They told the bank that they’d soon be packing
“Take it over—we can’t live with snakes that way.
For a house filled with snakes we’ll no longer pay.”
Foreclosed and empty the fine house now does sit
And buyers have no interest, not even the least bit
With that many slithering, slimy snakes around
It would be best if that house were just torn down
(This is a true story)
Categories:
crawlspace, angsthouse, house,
Form: Rhyme
Did it irk the burrowing domain,
A crawlspace lit like pumpkin pie,
And prick a truly genius brain,
Till thoughts and deeds solidify?
Sanctimonious in a sewage vat
That leaked to opine and convey,
Contrived, pip-squeaked a petulant rat,
Some dysentery bug come out to play.
Pain that is mine I will express
However I see fit to tend,
I own the deeds and must confess,
To tell it as I comprehend.
Bear in mind such rigmaroles
In truth possess the said and done,
Opinions are like armholes
And every armhole has one.
Categories:
crawlspace, funny, life, on writing
Form: Verse
now is glare caged and pasted dry
where once wet opened drapery skin so wide
moments stubble the truth even as it chews
on dreams stored in eyes’ dark crawlspace
Categories:
crawlspace, introspection, mystery,
Form: Free verse
Dust motes swirled a pirouette, ponderous stardust
in the light shaft capture, straight as a die;
fired to my chest from the crack in the tiles' armour,
right on target, unnerved my eye.
Laser sighted from the sun, a dot of vibrant gold,
I froze and fixed on it's accurate dart,
it's aim was painstaking and true as death
struck the naked breast, drilled my heart.
There was no real pain, just imagined,
no fatal wound nor spurt of black gore
to decorate the dust drab attic wall
and spill my life across the floor.
Stood here forlorn, forgetting my reason,
the crawlspace and pyramidal ceilings
mirrored then the yawning of my mind,
that chamber of decompressed feelings.
And you, your ghost, or a scent of what we meant,
breezed in, grave trespass upon my cold reverie;
and the inner child wept of grief and longing
for things to be the way they used to be.
Categories:
crawlspace, life, loss, parody, places,
Form: Verse