April 30, 2014 
4 Comments
to you
I’m her
a boon or burr
but in my eyes
I’m I…
a more important guy…
the self attached to my…
to what, wherefore, and why…
to me
the her
is you, or she!
a different thing entirely
and resonates with him–
not he
apart from us,
not them
of we
the them’s
not they
beyond this said
exist in gobs
of grey, in head
not groups, but mobs
of we’s
in force
and everyone
means meez,
of course
excepting none
a world pop,
made up of ones–
–source:
back to top…
2¢ K Robiscoe
April 25, 2014 1 Comment
Casper the Potter
liked to make pots,
spun from a wheel
in back of his shop,
and business was booming!
and Casper was boss!
–fashioning mugs that
Demi would Toss…
until fateful day
when business was lost…
The neighbors had gathered
as neighbors will do
and hood was abuzz,
> with talk of those 2 <
suspicious because
of medium used–
–since Pots is a term
that’s subject to setting!
in this case
a setting the neighbors
–were betting
involved special Glazes
a fact they were fretting…
So, poor little Casper
was hauled off by law!
** Tied like a kite **
but that wasn’t all–
–loaded on Spirits
and oh so much
¡ Boos !
no wonder a battering
ram was in use…
by Swat teams
come callin’,
a regular muster–
besieging poor Casper
those rotten Ghost busters…
©Karen Robiscoe
April 24, 2014 2 Comments
I strum my grief
& pluck one-liners
~riffing beats~
as I define
/ a life in leaf /
my story time…
in bits-so-sweet
until decline–
there never was a prelude finer–
worth a sonnet
and a shiner.
Through a reed &
with some weed
I blow my smoke
in piping…
oboes, flutes,
kazoos that toot
to mellow
bellowed griping…
My odes
unload!
My poems
come home!
My villanelles unveiling–
in measured chord
dynamic score
of trial’ing & tre’vailing…
For mortal wounds
the gizmo used
is full on Philharmonic,
no poem
but tome
–a fiction long–
subverts
the hurt to tonic…
As lullabye
may I imply
to me all words
are music
witty, ditty
>even shitty<
can sound pretty
when I choose it.
©Karen Robiscoe
April 23, 2014 9 Comments
By golly
I’m no Lolly
my hands are never gladdened..
by sucking up
~or licking boots~
or phony, toady actions
your ass
>while nice<
will not be kissed,
I like my nose in beige…
and for that itchy back you have
may I suggest a shave
I’d rather offer
poison fruit
than polish any apples…
Pamper’s
damper
–soft soap’s gone
I’ve given my last crapple…
©Karen Robiscoe
April 22, 2014 Comments Off on Divergent
It wasn’t all right
you didn’t object–
I needed your okay,
it wasn’t enough
that you never left,
I needed you to stay.
It wasn’t a balm
when you forgave
–embracing arms are different,
it wasn’t support
to hear what I said,
I needed you to listen.
It wasn’t succor
to offer advice,
when empathy would heal,
It wasn’t all right
that you didn’t flinch,
I needed you to feel.
It wasn’t enough
acknowledging wiles,
I needed admiration,
it wasn’t okay
to punish me for
–nurturing my vocation.
It wasn’t the goal
to run on my own
I wanted feet for pace,
it wasn’t okay
to “give’ me my room,
& then resent that space.
©Karen Robiscoe
daily prompt: conflict
April 20, 2014 13 Comments
‘Searched for truth
until eyes blurred
‘swiveled hips
until they burned
‘scratched my pen
until it emptied
–dined on little,
starved on plenty.
Hosted egos
’til it hurt
‘tempted kismet
kismet t→U←rned
‘dove in pools
’til I floated…
>oVer-easy<
dead & bloated.
‘Blazed my trails
until the last
‘mining nuggets
others pass
‘jumping lines
to sweeter paths
♥ loved all in ♥
‘KicKed some aSS.
©Karen Robiscoe
daily prompt: bucket list
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