Short Paged Poems

Sliding is the twilight
into the silence of the sea. 
A multi paged book
calling for me
to milk its poetry
verse by verse....

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Joseph Biden thought he'd call Donald Trump
Trump picked up and roared, "How ya do-in,' Chump?" --
   President Joe was outraged
   He had Stormy Daniels paged --
Smirked, "This'll help you get over the hump."...

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This is how I write,
Take pen in my hand
Black Mont Blanc
Open small hardcover
White paged 
Museum sketch book.
Don’t think much
Words come as ink flows.
Outside,
Clear night sky
Full moon light
5:30 AM 
Lunar eclipse
Will be memorable....

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Listen to poem:

Grapes Of Wrath

I paged you in blue
but pegged you purple be true
energetic red bouncing
round as a warring
fire embolden in passion
a stable calm of magic.

2020 March 21

*Honorable Mention*

STRAND CHOICE M,any form,any theme
~~Brian Strand

Howmanysyllables;
5,7,7,5,7,7....

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after gazing in to the mind's sky 
                                 as reading no paged unseen book
                               sense of thought blows in silence high
                             sometimes sight catches a tiny pointed light 
                                a vision of value balanced in state...

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the third of january saw this;

the moon is a stone in the sky
and the night a stencil of light;
the rain an error of clouds
and the stars a coda of cats;

this day told me...

you are hidden behind your face,
all your words are coded like scripts,
your body is full of lines:
you are paged inside yourself....

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past tenses tensed
porous rent rent
felon fills filled
hoisted bills billed
haughty ends ended
flimsy flood flooded

wanky waste wept
cremating callous crest
dark dribble's death

sage syllables saged
punctured pages paged
kindly rusty race

mission missed mark
hideous hymns harked!
    '20:03:26:18:01

Note: Dedicated to John Keats....

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I’m not Grandma, Granny, Gram
And certainly not Bubby.
It is Nana who I am
And Grandpa for my hubby.

Choosing monikers is strange – 
We rarely do the picking – 
And, once chosen, we can’t change
So what we choose is sticking.

When I’m greeted or I’m paged
With “Nana,” here’s the thing – 
All my senses are engaged;
My heart begins to sing....

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