Posted on September 21, 2019 by joem18b
Plug your nose
Hold your nostrils shut
Instead of breathing in
Loads of coke
Instead of air
Please
So you don’t
End up
Young but dead and
Mourned
Or also
Using that stuff
Right into your veins may give you a
High
Over the moon
For a while
Faster then the nose route but
Man while it’s
A wilder ride you will
Not be alive at its end
for The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest
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Posted on September 20, 2019 by joem18b
horse wouldn’t run
i switched switches
switched it again, which acted like a switch
and the horse ran
for Ragtag Daily Prompt
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Posted on September 15, 2019 by joem18b
more future than past
or has our past used us up
little future left
for Your Daily Word Prompt
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Posted on September 14, 2019 by joem18b
As a child they said he was delicate.
Fragile.
Rheumatic fever drained him. Pneumonia struck in the winter.
He was a nervous boy with thin arms and legs. Sunken chest.
But also with an aura. Something subtle and fine. The bullies left him alone.
An uncle called him fine-grained.
He was kind to animals, especially the injured ones.
In high school and college, he grew. Filled out.
Became tall, graceful, mild. A volunteer. A positive force.
Medical school agreed with him. The frail reed now the oak.
Called on for those operations requiring the most delicate procedures.
In the fullness of his years, his essence unchanged.
for Weekend Writing Prompt
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Posted on September 14, 2019 by joem18b
warriors
the bitterness of pickles
in the talk
the death of friends fresh in mind
sour acid burns the throat
basho/joem
for Carpe Diem Weekend Meditation
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Posted on September 14, 2019 by joem18b
first light on the first day of the rest of my life.
i leap from my bed and fling up the sash.
my heart also leaps from its bed and flings up my mood.
the sun and birdsong and automatic-sprinkler sounds hit me in the face.
i fling off my pajamas and some lingering doubts.
skip breakfast although it’s the most important meal.
go out front and pull up the croquet wickets and collect the newspaper.
i’m clearing the front yard.
hurry to telephone poles around the neighborhood and tack up my signs.
and back home, roust out the kids and feed them.
and finally, out front with them where i attach all the price tags.
they’re expensive but worth it and even if i sell only one it would be a great start.
for The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: Poetry, poetry challenges, The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest | 2 Comments »
Posted on September 12, 2019 by joem18b
Posted on September 12, 2019 by joem18b
Posted on September 12, 2019 by joem18b
Posted on September 11, 2019 by joem18b
nature’s penalties
are not called that but instead
just consequences
for The Daily Spur
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