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Tigger Balm

tigger brains

 
Wits made of springs

are glorious things

a Tigger-made

vigor

is synapse with wings

 
 

regardless of

rigors

& rules

and strings

a well-glittered skyway

rebels at routine.

 

like Sinatra’s “My Way”

kicks butt over byways

my highway can route

to sublime–

 

with lightning-quick trigger

no goose-bump

or shiver,

can hide from grey critter

of mind.

 

the flat lines

foreseeable

will carjack a vehicle

become more agreeable

when pumped

 

ideas flippin’

others side-trippin’

& rest zippin’ off

bungee jumps…

©Karen Robiscoe

picture credit: “The Tigger Movie film”

Knee JerX

little_storefrontI went

down to the 5 and 10

bought myself some

ball-point pens

lined my eyes

& papered lids

practiced cursive

eyelashes…

thinking less

I thought-less, too

tried some Peeps

in aqua-blue

fluffy insides

used for glue

amended Hallmark

cards too sweet

appended chicken marks

with feet

(then ended up with 5 for 3)

moVing on

I counted change

Sparkletts flat

was still in range

re-versed like whine

with Sharpie markers

I paid full-price

for swag in Parka.

Karen Robiscoe.

Pastiche

backstage

impressive

the possible uses

for pass

-the passing-

–the passive–

—or impasse that lasts—

an imprecise compass,

plus triple bypass

(I padded that last)

but past-time of puns plasters

passage to vast

–a prodigious cast–

a backstage permission

that doesn’t trespass

encompassing

passels of pastors

on grass

(a pasture but raft)

–passing the present

in pick•a•nick bask–

hamper-pack pastries

& pastrami snaX

–some anti-past—

a pastiche

not

practice for

passengers asked,

its tone unsurpassed

un peu de’ bombast 😉

e l a s t i c

&

~spastic~

that password’s

phan-tastic!

capricious & precious–

per plexi-ble

glass.

©Karen Robiscoe

Armchair Warrior

Charron's Chatter is your source for humorous writing and great fiction

the grave

won’t find me

–ever bind me

pristine to its shroud…

I’ll go all bruised

–and scarred, I choose

to live my life out loud.

My legs off-road

my hands just holds

for fishing poles or Frisbees

my arms reach high

to catch that fly

but chances are it missed me.

Diana’s eye

is mine

when I

fit a bow to shaft

the bull is

→→pierced→→

with eyesight fierce

a vision before draft.

I’m ATV

~with cage~

but

*free*

skip stones–I never roll ’em,

I bike terrain

extreme, but tame

a fearless, try-it, woman.

No way

I’m goin’

taggin’ to’in’

any unused parts

I’ll play my hardest

’til the stardust

claims me

back

to

Art.

©Karen Robiscoe

Lilypad Letters

Karen Robiscoe is my favorite ayuthor ever in all time bar none it doesn't get any better

Beauty & the Beast

–well, to say the least…

was Beauty a bit better,

say?

with a Beast,

less lettered?

hey

not a letter-jacket

guy…

or arts & crew neck sweater

guy…

or even Beast who catches

flies!

No, I fear I have digressed…

Beauty’s better

with the

Best.

©Karen Robiscoe

Marching Band B trippin’

ruler
 
A uNit

of MeAsure

is misSing

foRever

I looK

eveR’where

4 thAt

rULe…
 
 

Its plaNeS

helpeD to leveL

a cornersTone beVel

to pEn roWs beDeViled

w Tool…

in ligHt

of its LAcking

my slaNTed verKnacKing

is listleSSly taCkinG

oNshOre…

I wOnder

whEre is iT

aNd if iT were kiSmeT

an oCeaN to isTHmUs

–a shOre.

©kArEn rObiScoE

related: Yardstick

DL Book Burning

you look a little blue...

you look a little blue…

Berry lies

about libraries

verified

& vile,

very

bibliophile must

then be-wary

where you find

this poison fruit…

poised with

juicy root-toot-toot

since staining books is so uncouth.

©Karen