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TKO

March 30, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on TKO

puzzle_piece_left
 
I’ve left my brain

–logically speaking—

in a lurch

…

my write brain

overloaded

scrambling

ambidextrous in the aftermath

(thank God math’s over)

so

I

seduced

induced

created a mock-up mind

smoke, mirrors

(so status quo)

and hot air

(for that must-have popcorn popper)

kinda like a pontoon that isn’t fully inflated

(it won’t win any Stanley cups)

and like any jerried Rig, there are

…ahh

deficiencies

mutations

complications…

cortical bridge overwhelmed by

bawling

bellowing

billowing boat

that plays havoc with recall

and port to port cargo

(I ship you not)

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
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Dream Theme

March 29, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Dream Theme

deejay

JD the DJ

liked to play

be-bop

and hip hop

night into day

a shock jock

he rolled rock

in rhythmic reggae

as mood moved

he scratched grooves

directly in grey

–matter

the platters

progressed like time

skipped LP’s

with church keys

in soundtrack sublime

and slipped disks

in playlist

exclusively mine.

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE

TAG-less, ART-less Cars

March 28, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on TAG-less, ART-less Cars

Train_passes_4

My brain is a train.

an AM track.

with plenty of

connecting steel & pin, &

carved bridges w’o trestle, I tell you

cross traffic’s a bitch, but it

coasters along

~flying 6 Flags~

>all of them red; some of them freaky<

in creative

unbelted loop-de-loops.

 
 

Sin City’s Stratosphere.

a plummeting B-line.

a runaway death drop I don’t wake up from in time.

a rush more steep

than Rushmore leap,

it’s 1 ride I can’t

resist–

regardless of risk

(& retching, too)

 
 

Bullet monorail

(with Sea View cars)

non-stop service from & to the station–

nary

its nano-second schedule

a notch 8

on narrow gauge, it’s

a necessary route…

neuroses notwithstanding, &

engineered by heart.

by Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
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Cake’s Boss

March 27, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Cake’s Boss

candy apples
affection confection

is kindness that’s rindless

) (

its sweet pip

a cream dip

& cherry whip,

minus—
 
 
pits, stops, & lashes

unless maso

–kisstic

sadistically

chissing

deep down in the mYstic

bonding like batter

that’s spicy

&

~rising~

a marzipan phatter

than moJo surprising–

–than

ticklish

licker-ish,

a

sweet-tart-the-tang

is huggable drug–

(( ))

& heady meringue.

©Karen Robiscoe

FREE VERSE, POETRY, VERSE
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Goose-goose Berry Jam

March 26, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Goose-goose Berry Jam

goose_flies
 
Mother’s Goose

was well & cooked.

Force-fed, filleted, and foie-gras’ed
 
 
 
when eloquence escaped her, and her hickory-dickory-docked–

the retrieval of which was a chase already commemorating the futility of the situation.

Wild, right? And just like those ribbon races,

it boded ill,

(to put it mildly)

–no rhyme scheme for one thing, and that irked—

the silly goose…

she forgot to duck-duck

she diddle-diddle

forgot that kat-kats

are meer sometimes, too, and apt to find her tasty

…

invite to Christmas dinner

a thinly-disguised menu, really, worth

a thorough gander before

RSVP’ing, since

scrutiny’s a good goose trait,

doncha think?

Boy goose…girl goose, it’s all the same

except for the poking thing

nudge-nudge

oh, but I digress…

Back to the dinner party

(already in progress)

Yes, Mama Bird skimmed when

she ought to have scanned

moved when she ought to have

migrated

picked a peck that proved a pickle

and this oversight

practically guaranteed the

Goose

bumped off—

well, that and her preoccupation

with perfecting a

loosey-goosey, lockstep march

–her boss being the antichrist—

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
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Legume-Ade: 5 ¢

March 25, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Legume-Ade: 5 ¢

peanuts

The Peanuts gang

was kinda nuts…

no doubt about it,

no ifs or buts–

–had issues, tissues

couldn’t clean,

just think of

Pig Pen’s constant mien.

peanuts

That kid was filthy!

(trailer trash)

parents poor,

and strapped for cash—

no running water

where he dwelled,

a sty in eye–

a guy who smelled.

peanutsConsider next

the Linus fellow,

toted blanket

–belly yellow,

and educated though

he was–

he covered this,

in flannel fuzz.

peanutsIt’s sure his sister

was no help,

in ridding bro’

of pilly pelt,

that Lucy chick

was thwarted, really,

aborting field goals

willy-nilly.

peanuts

Casting Charles

as chump anointed,

to crash to grass

at kick-off point,

and play the fool

–a role he knew

at school that red-head,

dissed him, too.

peanutsNot Patty—sweet

she was on Chuck,

ostensibly

‘cause WTF?

was up with “Sir”

and gravelled tone–

–no candy cane

to call her own.

peanutsYes, only mutt

lived high on hog,

a Woodstock fan

–was rockin’ dog.

Painting worlds

and flying loops,

’round Baron Red

did beagle: Snoops.

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
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Sir Real & Mis Represent

March 23, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Sir Real & Mis Represent

silhouettes-copy

My reflection

and my shadow are

the only friends I know–

the one confined,

to glass that shines,

the last to shiny sol–

all the same

they can’t be blamed

they’re escorts on the go.

 
 

I’m fostering the former

behind a pair

of Shades–

foster grants,

ensure the cant,

of double in charade–

and if they crack,

they can refract,

rainbows that won’t fade.

 
 

I’m walking with the latter

not under,

but around…

‘turn back to sun,

since sun’s the one,

to brighten what’s on ground–

the light and dark,

are 1 apart,

and in this fashion–bound.

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
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