December 3, 2015 
Comments Off on 13th Round
Boxer, she
boxed
) outside the ring (
of Life
and with it
so with it
encaged evenso,
and Life
was a UFC fighter
with wicked ink, and it seemed to help
the kicks she sought
more
ass-centric than
rope-a-dope
the
dirty while gloves she wore
buffering most smack-back
the audience inclined to listen
to comment/haters
and sneaking in through
fire exits.
cheap thrills
She had the last swing, though
the miss—
the surprise pyrotechnics both
amazing
and
pun
gent.
December 2, 2015 Comments Off on iScreen…uScreen…we all…(fuq it) etc…
we are all
palm readers now,
our life line
infinitely extended
courtesy of Apple—
the one Eve gave Adam?
the one that’s GMO?
the one that evil bitch gave Snow?
the one that guarantees a doctor a day?
the one juicing your eye?
hard to say, teary, dearie
–but easy enough to Google…
(something like…..a million hits)
shopping around Window-busting deals
on Girdles of Venus
(for Amazons)
our daily diagnosis
jovian finger
>close<
our daily dose of
fate
a line or 2 away
handy!
our next best thing
a digital nail nearby
if you know how to read code…
Located near the thumb, the little known “pop-up” line
(developed this century)
along with the knee-jerk
diverts US for hours
tic-tic-tic
from the reality of life—
so tastelessly un-virtual,
and altogether too hands on
it’s what happens when
you’re busy clicking other plans…
November 30, 2015 Comments Off on If 1 is Good–2 is Better
The Day of the Dead
ought fall before,
the ghosts of Halloween…
so real souls,
not sheets with holes,
would be the specters seen.
While day of Thanks
for all us Yanks,
should surely be drawn out…
followed by,
a hearty cry,
a “Hey, you’re welcome!” shout.
–and though Noel
is awful swell,
one day is not enough…
the 26th,
would be a kick,
if it were on a crutch.
Yes, auld lang syne
is well and fine,
to herald in the new…
if only day
of “sh*t’s the same”
was celebrated—two…
November 29, 2015 Comments Off on Inside Emily’s House
a chronic non-smoker,
she collected cigarette holders
–and gun magazines–
silver cigarette holders, bedazzled with
fiery gemstones, precious and semi both
but
favoring
18 wheelers,
(amicable to opal when it was faceted)
and though she didn’t know sign language
she yelled with her hands.
(punctuated with projectile cigarette holders)
pocketing off-keys
&
following the White Rabbit, all
small talk garnered from
yesterday’s headlines.
spewing the only truth she knew
(life used to be hard)
at tomorrow’s high tea
–a madcap affair–
drinking burgundy
by the half-gallon,
(but shunning ‘shine)
stealing centerpieces,
(per vase reasons)
chatting up Carolina exclusively
–monopolizing Baltic and Boardwalk in utter
disregard for property lines–
the crinoline
(she wore too often)
–spotless–
a fabric made of dreams.
November 29, 2015 1 Comment
she greeted letters instead
of people
hello ell
face rounding—
yellowing—
eyes spasmodically winking , and frankly
it was a bit unsettling.
hitching rides
with the sky,
she pardoned Christians
positing philosophies along scenic backdrop
–but only if she truly
liked
the image
the message not as important
looking constantly at door missing doorbell
~and Window missing wind~
ears ringing though she brooked no punches…
she bit nails
chewed them like cud,
save the opposable digit.
This she filed,
nested, and polished–
releasing clippings incrementally
to fit in with the cowed.
by Karen Robiscoe
daily prompt: turn it off
November 26, 2015 Comments Off on Week 3
The next
several weeks
pass in a haze,
a sweet induced coma,
brought on by days,
of nibbling treats
culled Halloween,
producing—
a loosening
of belts on most jeans.
Hinging on timing,
you might also see,
a partisan race—
to run our country,
a process where candidates
stump & promote,
relevant issues
rockin’ the vote,
—smiling the while
by predescribed rote.
It’s also
quite likely,
you’ll entertain guests,
that come with the season
and must be impressed,
with doo-dads and china,
dragged out each year,
—claptrap—
in bubble wrap
equating to cheer.
And as time
—advances—
to end of November,
families prepare
a feast to remember—
the instance of stealing
this land
from its natives,
unfair to those there,
but still legislated.
by Karen R.
November 25, 2015 Comments Off on Happy (almost) Thinks-Gimme
“giving” is
written,
but “gimme” is said,
a roundin’,
a shorthand,
that’s uttered—not read,
and uttered,
like butter,
it melds what is meant,
the skinny’s–
a gimme,
and certain to spread,
just gimme
a second,
to list,
and to pen,
the chance is,
that time will
be very well-spent,
else gimme,
3 steps,
of head-start
to wend,
to hightail,
like Skynard,
of song
recommends,
and gimme
a high-five,
for mentioning them,
or gimme
a 4
. . .
for’gimme
–my friend.
🙂 Karen Robiscoe
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