Cars,
Like coffee pots,
Break down,
And more so,
When you least want them to.

So imprisoned,
The frigid,
And with no power-windows,
We didn’t care about the heat,
Only the smoke
That now stung our eyes –

Two-fold
Atop already open wounds,
And the cancerous,
Lying in wait, most often,
Indiscriminately.

So enters the second urge,
And it controls me,
I don’t control “it;”

“It” being a mood frosted
Amnesia, free,
Like beer’s hiss,
At the crack of a can.

And like beer,
“It” runs out
When the money does;

All too quickly to be
Replaced by the
Haunts of –

Bill collectors, war
And the knife in the drawer.

Something beckons when
We spot a diner from within
The snowbound derelict
We reside.

Scraped change and reckonings,
We can afford a few,
Drinks.

Forgotten were the coats when
We abandon ship, abandon you,
Abandon me,
And more importantly,
The haunts;

Our chariot, a remain,
A wreck on shores unknown
With bodies, perhaps,
Left for the living come spring.

I did not know that poetry has rules.
‘Tis not a craft for ordinary fools.
Those, that form and meter never master,
Are ever doomed; they are the poetasters.
As opera singers, out of tune, do make
Discerning listeners do a double-take,
And chefs, who sprinkle salt instead of sweet,
Serve meals that connoisseurs would never eat;
A writer with a wretched poet’s curse
Will never craft a great Heroic Verse.

So as I count my syllables and feet,
And wonder if my metaphors will meet,
I pray that hypermetrics are okay,
(For I have used a few of them today,)
I’ll leave the verdict, reader, up to you,
Affirm that to my mission, I’ve been true,
Or if the ending to my verse bathetic
Christen me a poet most pathetic.
Heroic Lines in Couplets, I intended;
Judge me, reader, now this verse has ended.

Phil Lindsey 12/24/15

Look where you go...The man said,
Look where you go...Life screamed.

Have I realised it late, to turn it around!

My books lay on the path, where
I found the man saying...Look where you go.

Have I realised it late, to avoid a run-in!

I did run into him again, but
this time, I knew him and he knew me

He was my acquaintance

Being alone
Is when no one is around.
But loneliness
Feels as if someone is around
Yet completely ignoring you.


-- Eleanor

Cup your palms around
that candle dear lazy
Spells to cast to the wombs
keep our ghosts outside
peering into tent *****
yellowing irises and
stamens strangely swaying
but nonsense
Butte no
out there
they stalk you dear lazy

KPop and horror films,
You're just the silliest girl.
I don't want you to go,
We've been through a lot,
I know.
I'm not going anywhere though.
You don't need to worry about that,
So.. don't.

There's no such thing
As no strings attached
Although your emotions are absent

There's no such thing
As no strings attached
Even though I say I'm fine with these decisions

A baseball glove is your future
But for now I will suture
My body back together

Tying it together with the strings
That should never be attached
To sneaking around

You probably call it *******
While your buddies
Pat you on the back

I thought *** was supposed to be
More than just you and me
Keeping our voices down

How
Do you let me through your window
Just to tell me to get dressed and go?

We were fooling around
But it's different now
That you're playing with my heart

I'll be around
hanging upside down
and maybe i'll frown
for I heard a sound
that made my head pound
and i'll fall to the ground
weak grip making me drown
or losing the hound
in this forsaken town
and I know I feel bound
from speaking to the crown
but don't worry I'll hang around
don't worry I'll hang around.