February 12, 2014 
5 Comments
It was the Wednesday period of my Life
all hill & no hump,
and donning pseudo blue shoes
(actually huarache sandals)
I re-booted my
Maid for walking.
Employed more cowbell
as X Factor indicated…
incidentally
and by happy happenstance,
remixing that Windows log-on sound.
©Karen Robiscoe
February 11, 2014 2 Comments
Death is umami
a crunchy feeder fish
you eat whole
skeleton and all
(you might pinch your nostrils)
but the skeleton lends a depth missing before…
Love is fresh fruit
dribbly, bitten strawberry
green apple right off the tree
imparting complex energy sub
lime
& lemon
bright
Malevolence is brined
an oversalted jerk
(sauce)
for tooth-breaking brisket that simmers in crack pots
Regret is sweet.
Sweet like dried peaches,
it pleases at first, but man.
That suckass sulfur aftertaste.
Rage is wasabi awesome
clearing the sinuses
but ultimately cheap hot-sauce bad
> coming and going <
And Phoniness
well, phoniness
that’s any processed food—
crème-filled & cancerous.
©Karen Robiscoe
February 8, 2014 13 Comments
I play the keys
you know,
I caress them,
polishing characters to & from my QWERTY,
(offset by one key always, but I have an ear)
arms rising & diving quite dramatically
Dah–nah–nah–NAHHH!!!
I orchestrate sentences
arrange notes
& sample sounds–
plunk
plunk
plink
snapping fingers beatnik style between composures..
wink-wink-wink
composures…
to remix,
harmonize & synthesize
the ize within.
Chewing long-handled pens
I wear black pajamas
(dba sweatpants)
and plenty of extra pencils in my do too, I forget they are there
weaving braids, harum-scarum style, on my days off…
fingers fall in agreeable waterfall
sometimes unison
> a Chord <
sometimes singular
> a Big note<
each digit
respecting the path of the digit before.
©Karen Robiscoe
February 6, 2014 7 Comments
I am moving into
another head
where thoughts are kinder to me…
With more breathing room
frosted Windows, and better wiring.
With fluffy pillows of cerebellum
to soften nooks and crannies
and fewer doors.
Where Disney daydreams never get interrupted
by the Emergency Panic Service
(conducting a test in my area)
and Night Terrors
are just a show on TV.
When I move, the only prerequisites
for my new, grey space
are “fugue it” rooms
(for wall-scrawling)
a widow’s walk,
& guard rails….
maybe one of those gliding, stair-lift thingeez,
to facilitate illogical leaps, and breaks in rationale.
When I move, I am throwing most everything I have already, away
Boxes and boxes and boxes
and boxes!
(bet you knew that was coming)
of stuff Pandora likes
but me not so much
and a few, dead cats the reek of which
permeate every, single meta-phor of my current mind-frame
> even high heaven <
since death
(like heat)
rises.
©Karen Robiscoe
February 4, 2014 1 Comment
I am tribal
not global
foot to earth
is my mobile
eye to eye
is my bible
as DPI’s liable
to be less than noble
a writhing immotile
a mall
for a shopper
who’d rather boutique…
I’ll take face to face any day of the week
(and then only when I desire to speak)
I’ll grip hand to hand
I’ll choose side to side
since language is more
than a character tide.
I am tribal
not global.
©Karen Robiscoe
January 30, 2014 7 Comments
She had a parting of the ways
with her houseplants
—a falling out.
it bore no rePeating …
& she kicKed them to the curb
—succulents, first.
Everyone secretly hates succulents,
and in that regard, she was no different from anyone else…
Creepy shop o’ horrors plant,
and not even attractive
the plant for the:
I am too lame to have a houseplant, plant-owner
Released to the wild, these plants were free!
Both deprived and granted rooTs,
it was their inability to ambulate that spelled disaster
since cities limit Trees.
©Karen Robiscoe
January 29, 2014 8 Comments
like a cat
a faerie only gets so many lives.
Each bubble delicate,
candy floss soluble,
& magically propitious…
Chimney sweep lucky, and a good deal less sooty,
it’s a good idea to hang in her general vicinity.
Quietly, though, since Tipping Tongues kill faeries,
& only water affords her attention–
—method more so:
/ waterboard verses /
/ bubblebath verses /
“oh-oh, what was that?
did you feel that?”
(cursing)
That’s a big difference
to the skin!
–and like Rumpelstiltskin
a faerie must go if beckoned,
since some faerie rules are universal
and delivery is critical.
Just think of
Betelgeuse
Betelgeuse
Betel…just a skosh more demonic
than sprite, but distant relations all the same
the 6th fact that bears remembering
(if forgotten will evidence evenso)
a faerie cannot, absolutely cannot
live within walls,
cages, or books.
Any page written thereto
will contain only the Faerie Tail—
Faerie story, and other stored, faerie bits,
omitting the X factor entirely.
(the best part of the faerie besides Y and Z)
Equal space distancing
between all
3 eyes.
©Karen Robiscoe
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