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thOmpSon sEedLess

grapes

grapes can

press into wine

& whine…

swill-dry-drop raisin

-hell’s fine

just fine…

smash into jam

that don’t bind

or grind…

yet clustered

and clumped

on the vine?

¿ di Vine?

they sour a vintage

to brine

each time.

¢Karen Robiscoe

 

Movers & Shakers

boxed in

U-hauls,

&

Big Rigs

&

Pick up Beds tied,

I see ’em in transit

and wonder the

~Y~

boxed in

is

it heart ♥ song,

or heart ♥ ache,

or hard ♠ luck,

<they’ve boxed>

do they leave

or arrive?

are they open

or locked?

Are those personal

knick-knacks

wrapped careful

in tissues?

or bric-a-brac-broken

& tossed in like Issues

boxed in

yes, I wonder

I do!

when those

moving trucks

→ pass ←

if Broke Hearts

de-Reason

de-Parts are aMassed.

©Karen

Across the Multi-Verse

 

if God is a poet

–and I’m sure that He is

I wonder the number

of writings are His

the number of verses—

there must be a Google!

a quantum dynamic

since God isn’t frugal

each verse

threaded through

with star- composed lines

coiling through black

God likes reverse type

box universe

the planets

are graphemes

with meteor

tittles,

the comets

are commas

the asteroids

spittle

the galaxies

chapbooks

the novas

their end

to one text of many

sky writing God penned…

Lucy Above

>once<

agrees this is so

I got really high, once

and met Her below!

K Robiscoe

 

if butter can’t fly

if Witches mis-spell

and Muses

don’t rite…

if curtains can’t draw

would darkness alight?

if hearts fail to sing,

would eyes

skip their dance…

would lyrical voices

be silenced by chance?

if wind stopped caress

and chatting brooks

muted…

would forks in the road

turn to knives as they routed?

if sunnier

outlooks

are closer than skin…

then radiance true

← looks out →

→ from within ←

butflycircle

©Karen Robiscoe

…and that’s how cars are made, Timmy

hand_cart

Mustang liked Pinto

like primer likes paint

drove to a drive in

4 Ford-able date

piston to cylinder

both a V-8

4 on the floor

made 16x great

and RPM later

the Pinto Gas-Tate

upset the muscle

as after the wait

offspring was hybrid

but MPG great. hand_cart

a beetle bug

and monster truck

thought they’d

have a little fun

revving motors

connecting plugs

then after sparks

a Baja Bug!

hand_cart

 iPhone

had a bone

to pick

with mobile scheming

staged a meet

with GMC

boom! A Smart Car preemie…

hand_cart

Car-en Robiscoe .;)

A Good Platitude is Everything

 

My

“Once Upon a Time…”

has fallen in the crapper–

My

“Dark and Stormy Night…”

the truer

Ever After–

My

“Sunny Day tomorrow…”

a weatherman prediction–

My

“Humor from the Gallows… “

the truth behind the fiction.

penning gold

prompt: reality, really

that happened to match the DP

of…wait for it…

Adult Visions

o the irony©Karen R

 

Soft Cell

star_gazing copy
 
Maybe we are all just part of the Godhead

each one of us—

cells in His body,

the cosmos: His plasmic soup

the planets: His bones

the stars in your eyes: His eyes

all stars, I mean, since He’s built a little differently, I think,
 
 
 

–pulsing with stellar energy & Pearly Gate-orade–

I’ll bet God gets His licks in at the gym!

Maybe His moles are our cancer,

and don’t get me wrong,

moles are lovely—

Marilyn’s & nocturnal, both

(I like ’em anyway, even if they’re more 7-year-scratch than itch, since who’s to gauge beauty, really? Isn’t all Life beautiful? Part of the greater whole, the mole–

part of the Godhead,

but hey,

someone’s got to go.

Cells regenerate to stay dynamic

in all bodies

great and small, and moles are infamously deep cover.

Maybe the Einsteins

Keplers

and Hawkings

are part of the Godhead brain,

and

Van Gogh

and

Mozart

and Debussy…

Dickinson,

Poe

and

Pollack….

maybe they are

part of His

He’art.

©Karen Robiscoe