It’s Quadrille Monday at the dVerse Poets Pub. The theme is “quiver.”
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Before you ever touch me;
you don’t even have to speak
(not one syllable!).
All you have to do
is look at me
and do that thing
with your eyes
that slow, sexy blink
a sweet almost-grin
and I butterfly-quiver
a breathless
tingly ripple.
I am free and that is why I am lost.~ Franz Kafka
I am free and that is why I am lost.
I’ve looked for me here
I’ve looked for me there
In the forest,
by the sea,
on the swing set,
climbing a tree.
I’m playing Hide & Seek
by myself. I’m always IT
but why does my self
never seek me?
Because I am free
I can be anywhere
I want to be.
The one place I haven’t looked
is deep inside my heart
for that’s the place
I’ll most likely find
the me that I’m
supposed to be.
Once again, it’s time for Chelsea Ann Owens’ Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest. The theme is Wild West.
I’m ridin’ the range
that ain’t never gonna change
with my horse named Fred
Fred is red: Red Fred.
He’s my best friend
til the very end.
We set up camp
when nighttime comes
Fred can’t help
for lack of thumbs —
but I don’t mind,
that’s common in his kind.
I cook some beans
an’ throw in some greens
while Fred eats oats
that cause him to bloat.
And later on when coyotes howl
our camp is smellin’ foul
cuz beans an’ oats make us fart
it’s methane art
an aromatic symphony.
I’m a cowboy, see?
Red Fred an’ Me.
What people think, I don’t care
Long as I got clean underwear.
Fruit of the Loom is what I like
Cuz Jockey briefs are too dang tight
for ridin’ the range —
Just outside LaGrange.
SpillWords published one of my essays! Check it out: https://spillwords.com/medusas-carnival-of-skaz/
Ergo, the Ogre 