Once in disguise of sanity
The love of work belonged to me
Now with age I clearly see
An endless structured bondage
Shiny bright fresh minted
From the college briefly stinted
Onward working place demented
Soon deprives the soul of peace
Blinders set to stay the course
Daily risk the cart affronts the horse
Grieved for life by decades mesmerized
Tears retire the fiction folly
Categories:
stinted, career, work,
Form: Rhyme
Was Not Intended
Was not intended
When my endeavored ended
Rules were amended
Into air blended
Casket cemented
She had consented
Car door was dented
My eyes had glinted
Answer was hinted
Not oriented
I had relented
Vessels were stinted
Ended up suspended
Room was well-vented.
You get to pick out last one you
want for last line. Jim Horn
Categories:
stinted, humorous,
Form: Haiku
At night the city is full of bones
And they
Are very dry
Beneath the trample of urban feet
They are ground
But to live, these dry bones
Must drink words
Sad nervous me, I stammer
Against those arid limbs
Grinding bone-dust songs
Into scattered fragments spun from raging blades
But realizing so many so, I sputter
Thought-hacked soul-flakes, soaring
Crooked in an angry wind. . .
Though stinted, inconsiderable, I say them
Spit them down the papered street
Into a shadow where the dew will stay
And some anonymous day some
Stray seed will grow on them
And suckle upon a speck of misty bone
And though the nights will continue
To align the humps of an un-slaked dune
Something out of this sand will rise
Small, and secretly original
And I will be part of her:
my bony, blue, and sensual city
Categories:
stinted, angst, inspirational, sensual,
Form: Free verse