"fowards" poems
Late night hours, paperwork spread on the bed
all this work for a future she dreads
The hands spin fowards, a black and blue picture
all this pressure like an annoyance filled blister
Like my own, she wants reward with no work
ready to spring, but hold back and lurk
This is a short tale, full of too many words
all here to distract you like a drunken zebra herd
All she wants is security and comfort
nothing matters but her kindfolk's support
All she needs is fifteen seconds of embarassing bravery
but with these scholarly shackles is feels like slavery.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 3:29 PM UTC
dance little baby, dance up high,
never mind baby, mother is by;
crow and caper, caper and crow,
there little baby, there you go;
up to the ceiling down to the ground,
backwards and fowards,round and round
dance little baby and mother shall sing
with the merry coral ding ding ding
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 12:06 PM UTC
My head is hitting the ceiling
My spine is bent and my neck is pushing up the tiles on the ceiling as I walk
My body is too tall for me
I, inside my body, sink forward
In agony
In smallness
But my body keeps growing up
And now, I am hungover
My head and my feet both touch the floor like a bent tree
My face is melting onto the ground
Where as my legs are crushing the ceiling
I fold in half at the thighs
And then the knees and then the calves and then the ankles
And now I’m lying face down on the floor
Seeping into the tile.
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 10:30 AM UTC