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Still Crazy Jun 24
drrry spells

~for the r in all of us~

a normanative condition, a kitchen condiment, an un-relished
I’m-in-a-pickle relish, when there in no hot **** dogged doggedly poem perspiration in the fridge or anywhere to be found; nothing but a top sliced bun, ah, plain buns, old stale dog ones is all ya got left for dinner, during one of them there drrry spells that
no blonde tanned unweathered weatherperson ever
forecast correctly

Normanative? Oh yeah.

the tyranny of the white, white bread, the white, whittle ya down screen, couture-cold water from tap direct, neck bent, jugged to try and fail to wash down that lumpen ball of dog fur brain drain clog that’s backing up the paper words, in a stomach churning brine holding you back from reaching the top of the Mt. Everest,

rite Normanative?

Normanative.Oh yeah. Son of Norma and Normally.
It’s in the bibell, look it up!

she-he is my pooka, (nope, uh-uh, look it up) a six foot tall rabbit,
climbing up my brain stem, strategically strangling my words like
a flea killer collar round my neck, one that actually visually works,
my flea bit words fall to the floor, to live with the dust mites descendants of the ole south, drafts and rejection letters, all whose blessed memory may never die etc. etc.

that was the condition of my normanative condition when I dropped in (yup, look it up),

Norman sarcastically asking, how’s the weather up there,
any rain in that-northern-brain, down here it’s as dry as an southern old dog porch panting in Jewlie, breathiny out summer hottie poems, write out like it’s crazy going out of style, oh yeah, forgot
you don’t speak dawg that well.

so I don’t know nothing about your drry spells, just climb into
the hottest hot tub, staying all the summer months if necessary,
reading old poems about busted hearts, old dogs, unrealized loves that can’t be forgot, promises kept that one never made, other curses,
battlefields of yore, sweatin’ out the toxins till r
sends along a new one, rocking my toenails to my disbelieving eyes,
for I’m a mentally patient person,
whose never seen a drrry spell so long, that was not worth
wading thru, waiting for, till something busted out and
another thunderstorm of a literary good one, errr come along

like I said, I’m a mental patient man, still crazy after all these years...
(yup, that too, you could look it up if ya made this far)
Veronika  Nov 2016
Island
Veronika Nov 2016
The first time I looked at you,
In so many words I asked you to be mine
And although it wasn't spoken aloud, you said no

You're under someone else's thumb
Numb to my tiny spells
You live on an island with your Beautiful

You walk around under the sun
And pay no mind to my dark
Each time I see you I let you go
But I hope you never go far.
Traveler  Aug 2018
POETRY MAGIC 3
Traveler Aug 2018
Solomon indulged
In the witchcraft of poetry
The magical rites of nature
He broke the yoke
Of wasted hopes
And became a woman chaser

Words form spells
The seeds of dreams
Dark verse light
The earliest memes
Songs of songs
Building grace
Magic is attainable
In the Poet's case
..........................
Traveler Tim
Every good curse
Is written in verse
   But making the victim do the work is the key...
   Close to their ear,
   So that only they hear...
Whipser:
   "No one will ever know it was me!"
Skaidrum  Feb 2018
iii.
Skaidrum Feb 2018

Full Lakota moon,
unzips me from her womb &
dismantles this love.
Of the haiku series
iii. spells

© Copywrite Skaidrum
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