Short Overcooked Poems

Some people you can read like an open book
Pages worn, just a bunch of gobbledegook
Sorry for them
A lot depends
Sometimes brains can get overcooked...

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It’s been a choppy day for trading,
And the market’s looking wan,
Gold is sticking to its vaults
While Bitcoin faces a ban

Greece is eying the drachma,
Its kebabs now overcooked,
While Chinese knees are trembling
As America cooks its books

And as the rich get richer
And the poor man fades away,
Money, gold and diamonds,
Will always win the day....

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You tell me your leaving 

Impersonal over the phone

Couldn't you at least write me a Poem

Spelling out why

Or was I just small fry

You overcooked 

Because you weren't paying attention 

Romping up the temperature 

Drained on old newspaper 

Yesterday's news in small print 

You never really cared about 

Hanging on your arm whilst you looked out

For something better to come along

And sweep you off your feet...

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She struggles to get out words 
That never say enough
Not as clear as she hoped
Never conveying 
What she wanted to say

Feelings on paper
She stares
Disappointed
Discouraged
Angry at herself

They are bland,
Stale, overused.
Under baked or overcooked.

She crumples up a page
Begins again
Throwing this clump
Onto the sea of clumps
Around her desk chair

Begins again.
And again.
And again.

Maybe it’s not her day to write....

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She struggles to get out words 
That never say enough
Not as clear as she hoped
Never conveying 
What she wanted to say

Feelings on paper
She stares
Disappointed
Discouraged
Angry at herself

They are bland,
Stale, overused.
Under baked or overcooked.

She crumples up a page
Begins again
Throwing this clump
Onto the sea of clumps
Around her desk chair

Begins again.
And again.
And again.

Maybe it’s not her day to write....

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The blood in my veins,
Long past smoldering, begins to scorch---
Beneath the skin
Purple agony erupts again,
Ignited by the shimmer of your eyes---
My breath is gone,
Excluded by my swollen tongue---
My nose feels like a potato
Overcooked,
Or dunked in hellish alien wines---

Impossible concentration---

How long will you stretch the agony---
My skin is near the breaking point,
Flame broiled beneath your gaze

Please release me,
Let me go...

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