"puzzler" poems
here's the way i see it.
i'm an artist, a writer, a gambler, a fighter, a scientist, a scholar, a critic, a failure, a dramatist, a dreamer, a peddler, a nuisance, a bassist, a wanderer, a magician, a follower, a therapist, a liar, a professional, a healer, a pacifist, a chisel, a storyteller, a mathemetician, a physicist, a cook, a puzzler, a loser, a programmer, a lawnmower, a supporter, a musician, a tape-deck, a mirror, a survivor, and a dude.
i'm not very good at any of it.
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 5:51 PM UTC
Cogitating the existence
Of another world
The puzzler is snapped out of their stupor
The one piece that will simply not fit
Glares at the puzzler
Just mocking them
Aren't we all
Just pieces that will simply not fit
In the grander puzzle
This world is strange
This world is unknown
This world is impossible
A thought drifts down to the puzzler
From the sky above
Striking them like a bolt
And they realize with a jolt
What if
They'd only been trying the wrong way
What if
They simply needed to look at this
From a new perspective
What if
They considered the form of the piece
Instead of the ones around it
In order to solve
This confounding puzzle
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
we’re like a puzzle, dear.
a constant struggle to find our match,
the piece with which we fit.
and all the while referring to the
example on the box, an image of
a puzzle perfectly plenary,
cookie-cutter courtships of two
jagged-edged squares
just looking to fit in.
and the sea of polygonal
cacophony, swept by the tides
spawned from the puzzler’s searches,
grows ever-increasingly frantic as
the elusive match hides amongst
the others, like a needle in that
hellish and predictable haystack.
in impatience, he concedes to the
concealing pile, and continues on
to the next piece of the puzzle.
but he’ll return, for the game
will not be complete
until we two final pieces
meet.
May 26, 2018
May 26, 2018 at 3:02 AM UTC