January 17, 2014 
10 Comments
Feeling blue
& seeing red
I penned a purple prose…
Washing white
in mood of black
I blended greyish tones…
In bay of grey
I sailed away
with aid of new umbrella…
Fishin cheer
and squishin fear
I traded belly yella…
For tartan gut
which heartened, but
I didn’t care for envy…
and cleaned the green
from dreams marine
to fare in ports of plenty.
In guise of write
and lies of white
thru’ twisted straits of think…
I found red letters
even better
when I’m in the pink.
©Karen Robiscoe
January 11, 2014 13 Comments
a Muse with Life
began her tale,
intentions true
and accent gael,
pure of heart
and vigor hale,
certain kindness
would prevail.
a Muse brought Joy
to tales told,
before and after
young and old,
improving that
which did unfold,
gilding stories
mining droll.
a Muse found Love
when Sun was high,
the vast unmet
now met inside,
> electric pull <
and undenied,
a light that burned
into a Night.
a Muse felt Fear
and losing faith,
she lost what’s dear
to save her face,
a fool’s course
since pride is fake,
—and crippled Muse
—and altered Fate.
a Muse knew Grief,
as days grew long,
lost all Belief
that good was strong,
Reaper thief
and loved ones gone,
Turning leaf—
—remixing Song.
a Muse & Death
then trod the path,
matching step
without a map,
and though she feared
the hooded chap,
aMusing was–
the final laugh.
©Karen Robiscoe
January 9, 2014 4 Comments
An idealist;
my deal is simply this:
my eyes are open.
©Karen Robiscoe
January 9, 2014 4 Comments
If 1 Day
is Monday
that’s never 2sday,
and Wednesday
> though midway <
lost 3 in translate.
while Thursday
which sounds trey
is really the 4th
—not Friday
(a free-day)
since that’s 5th,
of course.
The 6th day
that sits way
—down in the week
is all about sitting
and “past tense” in speak.
And Son-day
is fund day
for God’s favorite sun,
who pulls triple-duty
returning to 1.
©Karen Robiscoe
January 4, 2014 7 Comments
Meat and potatoes
are fine as a base
but drizzle of gravy
heightens the taste
insuring no id bits
are going to waste
since Cash Cows are phatter
cloaked in Bernays!
Start with crowd reasoning
* flash it and pan *
foil it & season it,
infuse high demand then
Freudian browbeat in it
marketing plan and
oil the deep seediest
urges in man.
You wanna get women?
Buy this new car!
Does waistline need trimming?
Try this new bar!
You don’t feel like grinning?
These pills are top drawer!
And trust us, you must
‘cuz we sell who you are.
Your buttons our stove top
and appetites’ gauged
illusion of option
confined to a stage
a fine-dining, dinner show
Chef will appraise
Not Cash Cows—they’re dead now
—and shadier’s made.
©Karen Robiscoe
The German phrase: “es freut mich” means “it brings me joy”. Being punny, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to double entendre that, since Freud was the Uncle of Edward Bernays, aka Daddy of PR, and employed his Uncle’s techniques (among others) to good effect. (for himself and the retail industry)
December 31, 2013 14 Comments
I waved to a surfer
surfing a wave
slicing the face
he faced me and gave
the slyest of smiles
and dropped to the right
riding the lip
curling his whites
skimming the curl
crashing the sand
sanding the board
with wax in in his hand
trim like a pro, he
tip-toed his tootsies
to nose he did go
going for footsies
toting a ten-year-old
doggie named Moe
the mo’ that I watched
the longer they rode
till rode stick was suddenly
paddleboard show
and paddling out
to board for a trip
my bathing suit bottom
caught on wood ship
and wouldn’t you know it
on ship cotton ripped, and
yelling that word
replacing the ‘p’
I mooned doggy tandem
& tanned all of me.
©Karen Robiscoe
December 29, 2013 8 Comments
think of what
(trust your gut)
think of who
admires you…
think of where
she’ll be there.
think of when
and until then,
think of why
you should try—
then tell her how
—that isn’t now.
©Karen Robiscoe
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