Scribbles 'n Bits

Tag: new poetry

  • Bar Setting

    Message from the awful truths 
nothing stronger than full proof. 
Bits and pieces of presumption. 

Little takeaways for view - 
pleasure emptier than the room. 
Rise to the occasion or rise to nothing. 

Gracious notes from old to new: 
scrambled eggs and beatnik floof. 
Flowers on collars and shelves of buttons. 

Let the setting scene
fade to view.

  • Low Hanging Fruit

    Far,
far away.
Sittin’ where the apple seeds
grow all day. 
Whistle up a smile
and the branches sway.
Dump out the bath
and keep the baby face. 
Nothing left of leaving - 
only born yesterday. 

  • Tumble Cake

    If I could have an ice cream,
I’d rather buy two.
If I could take a walk,
I’d rather go with you.

If I could make a home, 
I’d build it with a view.
Large windows while you’re outside
so I could stare at you.

Whenever I’m alone, dear,
you’re inside my head.
All the things I’m missing
I’d hear from you instead.

  • Passion

    Perplexed by the utility of love - 
the blunt instrument by which we excuse our higher faculties 
like better judgement and grace.

  • Encompassing

    Like fresh earth,
roots settled in; 
surround me.
No clear pictures -
how 
why -
rather, a breeze strolled;
a hammock rocked;
hair wisped over a forehead.  
Dug into what grounds me.

  • Bombs away!

    “Bombs away!” 
came the bombardier 
shouting to his captain.
“Bombs away.” 
his captain confirmed
low along the horizon.
“All that 
for one person?”
came the bombardier, again, 
though not one to question orders.
The captain thought it strange,
never one to question openly.
“Do you think”

-explosions rippled below- 

“do you think 
they’ll feel anything?”
For the first time, 
the bombardier wondered.
Only silence answered.
Bomb a building,
a tank, 
an army, 
any of many things;
they feel nothing.
One person, 



everything. 

  • Mementos

    Thoughts slip and fall.

Drops off a faucet, oh, 
damn indecent of them all. 
Naked strangers
strewn casually about. 
The world could care. 

drip

Forgive the interruption,
a minute at most.
Sign the form, and step
one toe onto the line. 

drip 

However you make your mark. 

drip 

Please, step one toe,
a harmless piece, 
into

yes,         there
       line 
and 
just 

drip 

       yes, see, 

drip 

never

so
   bad

drip


free

  • Wisdom’s Fruits

    Aimless through the black and white,
among the grainy tops of midnight.
Wander through clear cut lines 
of staunch lit dreams and windless vines. 
Crawl and stretch toward open whites, 
blue or hazel of open eyes. 
Crossing through emboldened text.
Reap and sow tears of crying minds. 
Black and white, 
back and forth; 
whose hope is it to read the signs? 
Among the fields stemming dreams of height,
while as to day, they fall to night. 
Within words so far away
only disbelief will fill my fright. 
Harvested here by those astray,
the tree of wisdom, from leaves that fell away.