One Someone Sees
One someone sees A rope For balance. Another sees A wire For tapping conversations. She sees A net When faith is too much string.
By thunderchikin|2017-04-15T00:45:08+00:00April 15th, 2017|Bad Poems|0 Comments
One someone sees A rope For balance. Another sees A wire For tapping conversations. She sees A net When faith is too much string.
By thunderchikin|2016-11-15T19:24:05+00:00November 15th, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
They found a pearl that weighs 34 kilos. The world’s largest biggest. It weighs as much as an Olympic gymnast or a Wheel of parmesan cheese. More than the cursed pearl Kino cast into the sea. It has the beauty of neither, This mammoth, misshapen thing, Nor the iridescent skin of A perfect white marble On a string of perfect
By thunderchikin|2016-11-11T01:34:01+00:00November 11th, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
This morning I awoke speaking Australian To a group of high school kids who Loved my books and the TV series Based on them. They wanted to know How I allowed this certain actress To play the ballerina assassin. So I asked, what actress? What TV show? What rights got sold? Why am I speaking Australian? So I called my
By thunderchikin|2016-11-08T03:41:18+00:00November 8th, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
If I had eyes of Janus — God of beginnings and endings, Gates and doorways, Locks and keys, Whose two faces looked
By thunderchikin|2016-11-04T12:00:12+00:00November 4th, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
Sparks and clouds like stardust, Her soft kisses lit my mind, Filled it with fire and darkness That set my lips ablaze. But the taste of her was fleeting Like a whisper on the wind For among the stars she dwells now And not in the earth I know. I’m left drowning in the river, Straining to taste my star
By thunderchikin|2016-11-01T20:28:33+00:00November 1st, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
My neighbor the seahawk Joins us on our morning walk Diving from her nest of needles, twine, and bone Built in the boughs of the longleaf pine Taller than the tall, its last arms unsnapped, Weathering decades of hurricanes And half that in urban sprawl, Eighty feet above the dead pocosin swamp Upon which our nests are built. She swirls
By thunderchikin|2016-10-31T15:58:19+00:00October 31st, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
I lift the rock to my shoulder Then raise it above my head — I will not bend — Lock my knees and set my jaw Fill the cracks in my heart with magma — I will not break — Whisper nothings to the abyss And shake the lion from his slumber — I will not fail — No. I shift the rock from my shoulders,
By thunderchikin|2016-10-29T03:39:04+00:00October 29th, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
Oh to be that great wolf Who swallows up the gods At the end of the time, Not a periwinkle slipper hero Bowed by an indigo world.
By thunderchikin|2016-10-28T12:55:21+00:00October 28th, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
When she asks him how he feels, He stumbles on the words, Not because he doesn’t feel. Because there is no Word in human Language that can answer her, As if naming it will change it. Because words miss its meaning, A string vibrating to find the note, A search light in the distance That cannot touch the darkness. Like
By thunderchikin|2016-10-24T15:53:11+00:00October 24th, 2016|Bad Poems|0 Comments
Frost said Good fences make Good neighbors. Do bad fences make Bad neighbors? Do we exist Only if boundaries Separate us? Do no fences mean No neighbors At all?