Short Linoleum Poems

His porcelain eyes
falling on linoleum
a rock in a pond...

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Depression spills like milk on linoleum,
but there's no use crying over spilt milk....

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I ride a leaky newspaper raft
Adrift on the linoleum
Anxiously awaiting an
An attack of smelly
squirming happiness
covered in fuzz:
Puppy love....

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Grinning
Oblivious in iridescent linoleum unconsciousness 
Glorious-
dismantle me into dust.

"wrecked"
11.16.21
Liberum Divisa 8 Poetry Contest...

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His guard couldn’t help snitchin’ 
When he washed grenades in his kitchen.
This general had a hazardous heart,
His name: Linoleum Blownapart....

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The pitter patter of petite paws
Puppies take off across the linoleum
After a ball dancing and bouncing along the floor
They hear their owner whistle 
They yip in response
Scampering back to the kitchen for dinner...

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open door; icewall
                crusted as a rabid eye
                all the change of skin in frost
                a bedouin of snow

consider the end ;
                white room; stiff starch
                the soft slide of slippers
                along linoleum

winter`s partner; a slower cold...

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My hearts beats
heavy in my chest,
As steady as 
the tapping of your foot 
on the linoleum.
The dripping faucet, 
the ticking clock, 
the bubbling coffee maker.
Only in silence 
does noise grow loudest to the ears.
My very own movements 
feel foreign and unnatural,
As disassociated as you in my kitchen.

rebecca cloward...

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He shakes his head 
against the linoleum.
I watch him rinse his mug 
with my eyes closed 
before the sound of the mug 
shatters into pieces 
just like the occasion.
I stare at him for a moment, 
a ghost.
I thought I heard him 
raise his eyebrows.
I just dropped my head.
"You're not real. You're dead."

2-21-2021
Credit: Someone You Love Is Gone by Gurjinder Basran, Page 17...

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For the lack of spiked heels
The carpet endured,
The linoleum had no dents,
Women walked with confidence,
Maintaining balance.

For the lack of spiked heels
Mothers were more patient,
Children could tell the difference,
Husbands hugged their wives,
Cats no longer feared for their tails.

The world returned to normal,
Nations sought peace,
Wars ceased.

All for the lack of spiked heels....

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An empty box of wine on the 
sticky linoleum spells out the
breaking of caste;
here the plateau is littered with condom wrappers,
half-eaten scraps of
food and other assorted forms of trash.

Oh yeah, brother! this is 2009, a
brave new world begun with a blast, a
world where derricks burn and markets crash;
Here there be Tygers, here there be a
chance to break the Hindu cycle, to
rise like embers from the ash!...

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Early Days

The highchair beside the kitchen door
my domain, vantage point of my world
on the linoleum checker board floor
I played until my knees were sore

The center of the world to me
I learned to know as my mother
cooked and cleaned while I was free
to grow into what I might be

A world consisting of black and white
as appropriate as the days television
images remembered vivid and bright
raised by my mother in love and light

Stephen...

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Flowers drawn in blood and ink,
littering the floor like sand.
Window lit with summer moon,
showing my failures and faults.
I smear my flowers across the linoleum with stained hand,
withered from the pale light. 
I have seen the maelstroms,
thick with alcohol lightning.
I know the skies,
with their archipelagos  of stars.
It has all brought sweet madness, 
violet and lilac rainbows.
Lifting my dreamy eyes towards the ceiling,
I surrender to the tempest I only imagined....

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Flowers drawn in blood and ink,
littering the floor like sand.
Window lit with summer moon,
showing my failures and faults.
I smear my flowers across the linoleum with stained hand,
withered from the pale light. 
I have seen the maelstroms,
thick with alcohol lightning.
I know the skies,
with their archipelagos  of stars.
It has all brought sweet madness, 
violet and lilac rainbows.
Lifting my dreamy eyes towards the ceiling,
I surrender to the tempest I only imagined....

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Not enslaved to the flow of time;
no peril yet for careless hands.

sealed and complete,

I picture it
off the floor,
a fragile capsule
packed with gallons
of linoleum spite.
to burn with it
the miles
up between us and flight

- but gravity, gravity

paves a path
to nearest harbor;
the egg lands on the catch
of my palm’s 
bomb-hatch,

wingless.
defused.

a message maydayed to me:

are you tethered to the merest tock?
threatened by the slightest flick of wind?...

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