my teeth crack and die and fall out of my head
Unless my mouth is closed, then they click against other teeth.
This used to happen when I was eating.
Now it happens daily.
My teeth are sad, mad, angry teeth.
Broken, cracked, scraggily with sharp edges.
My tongue hates them
The feeling is mutual
Stay out of there I tell the tongue
As he slithers around getting paper cuts
I hate my teeth and they hate me
My dentist thinks I am dead
Categories:
scraggily, me,
Form: Prose Poetry
L’Heure Bleue
Winter comes into early spring,
Patches of grey crusted old snow linger in the shadows under spruce sentinels.
Larches still bare-branches, only for support of their moss beards.
Scraggily aspen limbs silhouetted against the sky
Crossed by airplane signatures of travel above, to far away unknown places.
The wind now laid to rest as day winds down.
On the valley floor surrounded by ancient craggy uplifted mountains
Capped with snow and surrounded by green belts of spruce and fire.
Winding down, the golden eye of God
Moves silently, almost drawn by the horizon beyond the mountain ridges.
Welcoming, awaiting, dreaming, of l’heure bleue
As twilight gathers.
Layering of colors -peach, violet, magenta and purple.
Veils never distinct but melting, fusing into the coming darkening,
As light fades and chill comes.
The silence of lambs, the putting up of memories, the opalescent retreat within,
Gathering time and place as a cloak to keep warmth within.
Categories:
scraggily, nature,
Form: Free verse
I sit on my stoop
watching him wander the street,
skinny as all hell,
scraggily hair and scraggily clothes,
coffee in one hand,
and a smoke hanging from the other
plus a baby boy’s face
you’d never expect.
Peach fuzz clings to his cheeks
as he shakes from the cold.
I watch him wander up and down,
he has no one to meet,
no where to go,
not even home,
so I’ll lay a blanket beneath the stairs,
hoping he’s not too proud to use it,
and in the morning
I’ll bring him
coffee and a smoke,
to start another day.
Categories:
scraggily, life, sad
Form: I do not know?
Eve blew the hair from out of her eyes
“He thinks nothing matters except size!”
“All he does is loll in the shade
It would be so nice to move to the glade!”
Eve picked a small critter from her thigh
and said “God, why? Why give me this guy?
He’s lazy, and crazy and talks to the baboon!
And when night rolls around he thinks I will swoon!”
“Adam, the man, the boss, yeah right,
You could have handled that snake but it gave you a fright?”
Don’t blame me, you’re the man, the one with the b*lls
So, why blame tiny me for the trials of us all?”
I was gifted to you. I’m your precious jewel
“Adam dear Adam….please invent me some tools!
I tired of seeing your scraggily hair
and picking the critters out of our lair.
Build me a house, find me a stone
And if you don’t straighten up you’ll go home alone!
*dedicated to Adam’s Lament by Bob Hinshaw
Categories:
scraggily, family, funny, girlfriend-boyfriendme, me,
Form: Rhyme