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Aloha Means Good-bye

aloha girl

Hula honey

on a stage

swivel as I pass

shake that butt

and coconut

when I hit the gas

spin a hoop

around your waste

until I hit the brakes

ditch the ring

and try to cling

to dashboard while you shake.

Ο

©Karen Robiscoe

The Human Malady

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

a standard utility

of human morality

favors humility

a forewarned futility

scans for normality

a proof-less stability

a useless formality

a stab at nobility

a total banality

a wounding motility

its banal totality

a class in puerility

a hostile reality

to foster docility

that leads to fatalities

and tatters tranquility

with utter finality.

©Karen Robiscoe

Poe’s Crows

 

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

Poe’s crows

have found repose

closer to my heart…

 
 

Write flight

as breath slows

shading light to dark…

 
 

Muse flows

a fine wine

a finish inky blood…

 
 

Death makes

create ache

in seeming endless flood…

 
 

But Crows know

the Muse goes

when her Rider dies…

 
 

Quill stills

but Life will

live in words of scribe.

©Karen Robiscoe

 

Mental Chewing Gum

miss you guys today

Bill the Guy

& Al the Spry–

met Vera and Jasmine…

*On the fly*

 when very high

as high as high has been…

Al was quick

as Jack the Thick

who once was known as Nimble,

till rusted box top

failed to pop

and head-crack made Jack simple…

–Even so–

that hefty blow

served them in good stead…

since Jasmine needed

nimble feet

and both liked active men…

Bill could play

the hoops all day

no Bill was never Bored…

he moved his bike

& grooved his hike

Bill brought a bong to shore…

Al could pack’a

mean backpack

and climb an Alp like bear—

 with Lederhose

and iPod Bose

Al bypassed steppes for stairs!

Vera, too,

had much to do

with everything extreme…

 she dove from planes

 and surfed on trains

no terra firma mien…

Jasmine knit

* a little bit *

but Jasmine was a dancer…

in dress of red

to Grateful Dead

she was a necromancer…

With wicked moves

each time she grooved,

her fingers just like fans…

 dancing jig

with Vera chick

and Vera-table Jazz hands

so when police

enforcing peace

shut them down for noise

Bill the Guy

and Al the spry

had Al-ibi of choice…

©Karen Robiscoe

Shore-brake

She waded at a silent shore,

testing brink of now & then

–and whispered wish for sands before

 

and missing him a life or more

beyond the shoals of why & when,

She waded at a silent shore

 

as sirens will a sea implore,

on weighted buoy of hope & yen

–and whispered wish for sands before

 

that any tide, or swearing for

could e’re undo, nor change amend,

She waded at a silent shore

 

impelled to seek by deepest core,

confusing, fixed phenomenon

–and whispered wish for sands before

 

for beacon lost atop a moor

that trumped all start & stayed all end

She waded at a silent shore

–and whispered wish for sands before…

©Karen Robiscoe

daily prompt: That’s Amore