My cheese sandwich is the SunIts importance knows no bounds.I need it more than oxygen,It’s the stuff that legends found. Oh, you crusty little fellowI love you more each second,Now it’s time to be digestedMy open mouth does beckon. Dancing, romancing on my tongueAnd now another chew,Down my throat to my bellyTo keep my strength…
Author: admin
Atomic George
Weathered was a something his face wore with distinction. George had known so much sadness that now it was reflected in the lines plowed into his skin by Father Time. Time had not been gentle, it had taken away his family in one fell swoop, it had reduced his bones to chalk and his skin…
A Right Stew
The pot was bubbling away, one worked whilst the other lazily drank some wine looking on the other’s industry. The weekly meal where his dad would come around was a high point of the week to catch up even through the stress of meal prep under a watchful gaze.“Oy vey! Too much salt, my kishkies…
A Critic Came A Calling
I clearly remember shuffling into the room above The Crown, greeting warmly all the other aspiring writers, story tellers, poets and bards assembled with a knowing nod and smile. All of us huddling around the twenty chairs in a circle; reaching into our collective bags to bring out the offerings for tonight’s literary group. Everything…
Autumn Leaves
A flurry of gold and russet redsGarnered with silver spider websParachuting from branch which it sheds,Dropping their bounty to the floor. A swarm of waltzing ephemeral laceDelightfully dancing with emotive graceA picture of nature’s Autumnal face,Captured for all to adore. Beauty woven into the season’s gownThose amber flecks in her crownA vibrancy which is only…
Snow in July
This is a prose piece… it just has a structure where there are no paragraphs, not a poem at all. Just a story… with less words… no paragraphs and a bit more fluffier stuff in it. Definitely not a poem. Doesn’t even rhyme! Down the road we trudged,July burning into our backsAs the sun flamed…
Aesthetics
Aesthetics, you sordid little shit Study of beauty never fits, A pseudo intellectual mist That taunts me through and through. An artistic conundrum that you pose, Is just the Emperor’s new clothes. I would rather have another doze, Than languish here with you. High brow and so far out of touch No one really bothers…