Tag Archives: Funny

Poetry Crime

[NOTE: A friend mine challenged me to write something about ‘if poetry was criminal’ here are my efforts. Things inside double colons means action – just so you follow my thinking.  Enjoy my silly side : ]

::Camera focuses::

Yes Bob – I am standing here with
Blu – the alleged victim. ::turning to Blu::
Tell us – what happened here… to you

::zooming in::

… Aztec Black
against the folds
of my mind
pillaging verbiage
in an effort to
language useful
to its means
its end
its reason for existing
and before
you ask if this is hypothetical
let me be very direct
tional in my
because I have already
lost Electric Violet
misplaced Frost’s Sofa
Put down 4 lines
of deep water
which have subsequently
and let me be clear
they were
……….. a minute ago.
but then
I am getting old
perhaps my mind
is lax in its categorizing
re-rhyming, word creation
and its over simplification
of my poetic folders
the vaults and safety
word deposit
boxes that I keep filling.
perhaps some of
the words and emotions
are just spilling over
into the ocean of
synapses and firings
maybe the alarm
was tripped by
mistaken identity
I do recall
wanting that sofa
to be given to charity…
…….. a few weeks

::stepping over yellow tape::

I am quite sure
when I went to sleep and
the night lingered over my
face like a gentle lover
the damn couch was there!
the numbers, colors and
vines of truths placed
for later view
…. right….

::points and sighs::

The Oak falling upwards
the green grassed clouds floating on
high minds in high places
getting higher until the stars would have
soft places to sleep
The broken till I used it
had it till She fixed it
Breathed it in like amethyst smoke
and got low with it
the murder we wrote
the Canterbury slopes
the fermented frog leg
the discovery of Julia
who I don’t even know
and the art of being
frost bitten in summers glow
the aluminum candle
spell-crafted life
of faeries
in ordinary
tangle major buberbubblebingaling
the picture frame and cellphone
ring I left on the buffet
for digesting at a later date
the glass unfilled
the dog unthrilled
the stone, throw, and
paper bills
not to mention –
…. is it Charlene? ::pausing::

the porcelain features of
the girl in my dreams
who looks a lot like me…
was all here
::sighs again and meanders aimlessly away::
no I don’t have insurance
I am a poet for god sake

:: back to the studio::
another case of
villainous wildcat
serial thief
Called Poe Et(al) TreE.

We will bring you ::strange static word gone missing::
as more reports come ::static::