B-B-B-B-Bad Poetry

Many apologies dear Reader, because I started out hoping to give you a free story today, but it sucked so bad I just couldn't hand you that particular

trope and be happy I offered you cardboard instead of sushi. Instead? I'm sharing something terrible and I don't mind. Three (count them, THREE) bad poems. I have never claimed to be a poet; I just like to experiment with the form for the sheer and obligatory fun-ness of it. (Yes, fun-ness is not a word. Though, staycation wasn't a word up until someone in a marketing department made it so.)

Imagine that! A writer having FUN with words!?!?! NO WAY.

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I watched them die before

the slow death

of bones walking on hard pavement

I watched them sing before

the fast song

of life bourne, love and pain

I watched them dance before

the lullaby dance

hypnotic motions of an everyday life

and there I was

watching

in a window half-open

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Half as much

without the whole

Beauty speaks

the larger Picture

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So he's waited

so he tries

to set godhead close

with arms on strings

and many, multi-colored

things to hold

things to have

spinning him round

without one spring

or other little, dangling

things he's known

things he controls

inside out he

walks the line

round in circles

like everyday time

two-handed victor

tightly wound

so he's trying

so he waits
Mood: Sleepy pants.

Caffeinated Beverages Consumed: Three. No, really.

Work-Out Minutes Logged Yesterday: Yoga

Yesterday's Projects: Game, Editing, Fiction

In My Ears: Adele

Game Last Played: Battle Nations

Movie Last Viewed: Big Trouble in Little China

Book Last Read: [Redacted.]

Latest Artistic Project: Paint! Thar has been painting.

Latest Release: Redwing's Gambit for Bulldogs! the RPG