Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"appen" poems
a home of unrest survives in my old town where madness seeps through jaundice colored halls, lapping life from rotted brains. grim photos of grandchildren deform walls, but old folks don’t remember. they wear nametags. who am i? residents wail for mommy, their ’86 kitten, a bus pass from chicago or the wrong god. her eyes are sallow. tunnel vision, they say. cloudy hues without purpose. bags under gramma’s lids hang like dead gangsters and bifocals settle around her neck, in case she gains a pang of clarity. Lovely Rita, once a fat cook is now slender as a fang. she forgets to eat. my guttural granny, she stutters incoherent, mostly. but today, she babbles an omen. watch o u t thing s are g o nn a h h h appen she retreats, deteriorating.
0
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 4:03 PM UTC
If I Remember Correctly, Life Expectancy After Diagnosis is Seven Years
(20 minute poetry) Unexpected overload. the baggage man decrees, pay and pack, pray and display, place your items in the trolleys all provided free. Supermarket not so superdooper when ya get your groupon coupons rejected by the automates and auto anything is not a mate of mine. I am from that time when interactions meant you stopped and passed the day in chit, a bit of chat and that don't 'appen anymore, feels like someone took my appendix out, wish I had more than empty spaces to grumble about. It's just the overlord that watches over those who overload the system, the miser in the ivory tower, the demons always hold true power and we the minions carry on as if a coupon could change a thing. Nothing to see here anyway.
0
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 6:28 AM UTC
The wrecked angular man
Drowned between songs of Fall & Spring; Silent. Not learning a thing, No spite, No fright, Only eye and night. 'Til I wake, I ask: O Please O Please I Say nothing, Still. Summer, I beg, O Please No pollen on thy nose; empty lines of prose... O How did it 'appen? I didn't even see Nothing. But 'ere it is, eerie as it is, I stand after a long crawl, but no expected sun awaits me.
0
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Post-Winter