There was a man
who sat at the corner
bus stop.
Beside him was
a paper bag with cups
in it.
Why does he sit
at the corner bus stop
staring?
He is alone,
without a home to go
home to.
What does he see
sitting at the bus stop
alone?
He sees nothing.
There is nothing at all
to see.
Sometimes I feel
like the man at the cor-
ner stop.
Another teen angst filled poem from my High School years. I carry a great weight upon my shoulders as I walk upon the Road. I ask, “Will not someone help me with my load?” The mountains echo their unanimous reply, “NO.” I ask, “Will not someone take away my load?” The mountains echo their unanimous…
Here’s a limerick I wrote during the 1984/1985 school year that was inspired by a pen. The pen is a remarkable thing, you know. It writes with such an easy flow. The colours it comes in are endless. The things you can do, tremendous. There are even pens that glow, ya’ know.
Here a bit of scifiku for you: Purple lake runs cool through my mind like a dagger where is my home now? Later this week I’ll be posting this month’s work of art to inspire haiku, so keep coming back! Originally posted on 52 Haiku
I was cleaning out my fiction and poetry files this weekend in preparation of renewing my efforts and found this weird little poem I wrote on Oct. 16, 1995. In fact, I don’t remember writing it. It’s in my handwriting and I do remember the line about the streamers, but everything else was like reading…
This poem was written Feb. 16, 1991. I suddenly had an image of a light purple rose lying on a pillow and created this. One Violet Rose laid upon my pillow as I came waltzing in on a string of a thought a wish My love, Thank you for your kisses Thank you for your…
This poem was written circa 1975. I’d forgotten all about it until my mother called me and told me she wanted to read to me a poem written by a 9-year old girl. When she was done, she asked me if I remembered it. I said it sounded familiar … maybe I’d read it on…
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