Tag: My Poem
Just Like That
Just like that
We were airborne.
Climbing thousands
Of feet in elevation.
A rough take off,
Just like our talking.
Stephen Hawking said
It doesn’t have to be that way.
It takes a man sitting immobile
For years on his wheelchair
To tell us not to bitch and moan
About every perceived slight.
Talking and listening leads us
Out of this self-made hell.
Don’t pick a side.
Don’t pick a fight.
Pick a time to heal.
Good Poetry
Good Poetry
Something in me wants
To scream. It’s all those
Qualifiers like
Good
Great
Best
The world swallows me
Like an unchewed bit of beef
I am the lone hiker
With a leg pinned
Beneath a fallen rock
Keep hollering or die
The Cricket
The Cricket
I was outside in the sunshine
And you somehow landed on
My black coat laid on the bench.
Without a thought
I reached down
Curled my middle finger
under my thumb,
And sent you tumbling through
The air with a power flick of my finger.
Thinking you would just
Shake yourself off and move on
You just lay on your side twitching.
When I touched you with my shoe tip –
nothing.
You died and I felt real sorrow.
I wanted you gone, not dead.
All you wanted
Was the warmth
Of my black jacket
On that cool
October day.
When we met
I thought
of myself
not
you.
FROM: Writing in Sand
Writing in Sand 