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Alarm

November 22, 2013 by Charron's Chatter 18 Comments

 
 

I am Alarm

and I know special tricks

I’m able to

stop all clocks

from their ticks–

their two-timing tocks

can’t circle or click

when Alarm is around

the slow becomes quick

the quick pulls up short

and slows like a thick

fictional current

which in fact

–it is–

Since day into night

is all that must stick

dark into bright

wickless or wick

Alarm knows

that time flows

both ways, so splits

–the dif-fer-ence–

clapping bells

to transmit.

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

©Karen Robiscoe

Daily Prompt: Power

I chose time travel as my superpower, because of what the poem says. Time is a man-made concept–an illusion.

 
 

POETRY, VERSE
,

Almost

November 15, 2013 by Charron's Chatter 6 Comments

 

I am just around the corner

in your peripheral vision

I am loner caught in crowd.

 
 

I am lifted eyes too late

a persistent, inner frisson

I am quiet in the loud.

 
 

I am fist of opportunity

stilled by indecision

only knocking—knees without

 
 

and though second-guessing

I am bustin’ out of prison—

and I’m coming for you now.

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY

Desperately Seeking Tom Robbins

November 3, 2013 by Charron's Chatter 3 Comments

 
 
hidden me

I moved to Hidden Valley

since life became distressing

on the table

on the label

under words that spell: Ranch-Dressing.

 
 

The fields are ripe for harvest

the planted rows are green

—the veggies are

like candy bars!

And everything’s so clean.

 
 

The people there are sparkling

their joie de vivre plain

the ice cream treats

are made from beets

the kind that never stain.

 
 

The sky is always sunny

the clouds just fluffy balls

the only rain

organic grain

no GMO’s at all.

 
 

Maybe come tomorrow

I’ll hike toward bright horizon

follow sun

when salad’s done

see what’s behind the hyphen.

©Karen Robiscoe

 
 

POETRY

Richter Scale

November 1, 2013 by Charron's Chatter 4 Comments

 
if earth quakes

then Spirit shocks.

Tectonic plaints

collide,

ideals along for the ride

rupture,

protest,

and disintegrate…

(by the Large)

individual fissures

once without

are entombed

(inside mountains)

and though Brows avalanche

to bury magma

(boiling in eyes)

it’s too late!

Moss-covered Scree

and first blooms

and slabs of bedrock,

succumb

surging over jutted Jaw

—an indignant cliff

and scarcely a Lover’s Lane in that regard—

to force Walls

at sizzling surf—

Walls.

Above all Walls.

Forced Walls that’ll

be scaled

by some nutcase, at some point since

they’re more

Major

than

El Capitan

and that’s just eyeballing it.

World class

Tug of War

champions are circling, naturally

&

running with

scissors

but those peaks are good

—for all they’re unstable…

Formidable & high,

which is the best place to be.

When tsunamis rush in.

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

©Karen Robiscoe

FREE VERSE, POETRY, VERSE

Shell’s Kitchen

October 10, 2013 by Charron's Chatter 11 Comments

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

If you go below

Squid Row

and highest, driest Pantry

holding breath and swimming slow

avoiding questing lamprey

blowing bubbles

tickling roe

whenever they are handy

squinching eyeballs

wiggling toes

as modus operandi,

pinching nose

& jiggling hose

attached above to fancy

tanks in boats

on H2O

you’re sure to have a dandy

—afterglow

plus shrimps you stowed

make appetizing scampi.

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

Me diving out at Santa Cruz island…mannnny years ago….

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY
,

Cock-Flocked

October 9, 2013 by Charron's Chatter 11 Comments

 
 

The crack of dawn

was almost gone

when Early Bird appeared,

his tardy start

was due in part

to swilling too much beer,

at last night’s keg

with hollow leg

he siphoned quarts of lager,

like a spigot

the crafty egret

employed it as an auger,

incited by

that Owl Guy

patrolling skies at night,

the Early Dude

was in no mood

to make the card’nal flight,

That’s why he chose

to fly with crows

The dreaded clock to cheat,

a pity that

those raven chaps

were flying out to eat

—humble pie

created by

their brethren in the kitchen,

leaving Early

feeling surly

for grabbing bait & switch—

and though he ate

from crow-filled plate

and to his duty quickened,

dawn broke through

to Doodle Do

cawed by cocky chicken.

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

©Karen Robiscoe

 
 

POETRY
, , ,

Muse – Stress

October 6, 2013 by Charron's Chatter 4 Comments

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

I see a different world

—than others, it’s my choice

’cause in my view

there’s black with blue

a contrast that I voice.

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

without opposing colors

the spectrum would be bland

since primaries

show potency

when compounds help disband

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

without enduring struggles

the reward would be muted

as that hard won

is twice as fun

as booty undisputed.

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

No, truth in me

won’t quiet

nor wash itself in white

the bad or good

as strikes my mood

is kind of wrong but write…

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY
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