Tag Archives: free verse

Route-her

 
 
mile in my shoes
 
It was the Wednesday period of my Life

all hill & no hump,

and donning pseudo blue shoes

(actually huarache sandals)

I re-booted my

Maid for walking.
 
 

Employed more cowbell

as X Factor indicated…

incidentally

and by happy happenstance,

remixing that Windows log-on sound.

©Karen Robiscoe

 
 

the hUman zoO

 
social_newtworking
 
I: log on

—lose 1 dimension

&_link
 

look &

* enter *

(use 2 endviews)

sentient, I

LIKE

COMMENT

SHARE

thumbing the widgets

regarding exhibits

a,

b

c &

2D-digit-mensional

Too-DPI-dreamlike

Too delusively ersatz

4 id’juts

(like me)

whereas the action is not.

(a)—Human·is Corruptus

candid and caught in action

(b)—Human·is Unkindus

simulating real-life situations

they look the other way

for personal CTA

(c)—Human·is Unsoundus

without volume

&

without speaker

some ♥

this unnatural

but I need jams!

(d) side it’s Humanity

shudder & disregard

> iDisregard <

knocking on

doors more

3-D…

©Karen Robiscoe

My’Stroke

 
 
Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER
 
 
I play the keys

you know,

I caress them,

polishing characters to & from my QWERTY,

(offset by one key always, but I have an ear)

arms rising & diving quite dramatically
 
 
 
Dah–nah–nah–NAHHH!!!

I orchestrate sentences

arrange notes

& sample sounds–

plunk

plunk

plink

snapping fingers beatnik style between composures..

wink-wink-wink

composures

to remix,

harmonize & synthesize

the ize within.
 
 
Chewing long-handled pens

I wear black pajamas

(dba sweatpants)

and plenty of extra pencils in my do too, I forget they are there

weaving braids, harum-scarum style, on my days off…

fingers fall in agreeable waterfall

sometimes unison

> a Chord <

sometimes singular

> a Big note<

each digit

respecting the path of the digit before.

 ©Karen Robiscoe

Grey-fitti

 
Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER
I am moving into

another head

where thoughts are kinder to me…

With more breathing room

frosted Windows, and better wiring.

With fluffy pillows of cerebellum

to soften nooks and crannies

and fewer doors.

Where Disney daydreams never get interrupted

by the Emergency Panic Service

(conducting a test in my area)

and Night Terrors

are just a show on TV.

When I move, the only prerequisites

for my new, grey space

are “fugue it” rooms

(for wall-scrawling)

a widow’s walk,

& guard rails….

maybe one of those gliding, stair-lift thingeez,

to facilitate illogical leaps, and breaks in rationale.

When I move, I am throwing most everything I have already, away

Boxes and boxes and boxes

and boxes!

(bet you knew that was coming)

of stuff Pandora likes

but me not so much

and a few, dead cats the reek of which

permeate every, single meta-phor of my current mind-frame

> even high heaven <

since death

(like heat)

rises.

©Karen Robiscoe

Lucky Charm

 
Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER
like a cat

a faerie only gets so many lives.

Each bubble delicate,

candy floss soluble,

& magically propitious…
 
 
Chimney sweep lucky, and a good deal less sooty,

it’s a good idea to hang in her general vicinity.

Quietly, though, since Tipping Tongues kill faeries,

& only water affords her attention–

—method more so:

/ waterboard verses /

/ bubblebath verses /

“oh-oh, what was that?

did you feel that?”

(cursing)

That’s a big difference

to the skin!

–and like Rumpelstiltskin

a faerie must go if beckoned,

since some faerie rules are universal

and delivery is critical.

Just think of

Betelgeuse

Betelgeuse

Betel…just a skosh more demonic

than sprite, but distant relations all the same

the 6th fact that bears remembering

(if forgotten will evidence evenso)

a faerie cannot, absolutely cannot

live within walls,

cages, or books.

Any page written thereto

will contain only the Faerie Tail

Faerie story, and other stored, faerie bits,

omitting the X factor entirely.

(the best part of the faerie besides Y and Z)

Equal space distancing

between all

3 eyes.

©Karen Robiscoe

Stretch Plans

 
 

My life is skinny

and I want it to be phat.

Luscious overloads

of hugs, and

seam-splitting amounts

of acceptance, and

big rolls of silly,

and spare tires of shared desires!

 

um…what else?

 

and gut busting giggles, too

to burst top buttons

> instead of pushing them <

and

muffin tops of understanding

overflowing genes….

So much so, double chinned “chin ups”

would hardly ever come into play

> but available <

to whip moues

into smiles so fluffy…

I’d need an extra face.

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

©Karen Robiscoe

 
 

Modern Day Writer

 
The Screen Borrow - second installation in the Cyberland series - coming soon!
 
a Modern day Scribe must write

first and foremost

attending to the guts of a story as if it might never be read

revealing in great detail the smudges on light bulbs long trashed,
 
 

the same smudges to which any handled object is subject,

but few dare own.

Surrendering pride

the Modern Day Writer writes because she knows

—knows someone has to record accuracies

distortions, even

satires and parodies—

versing excursions

and lessons only learned in detention,

but accurate.

The Modern Day Muse is possessed.

Scribbling characters.

Characters by word.

Blacked reflections of

experience perceived,

sometimes reactions

rarely redactions—

since the Modern Day Truth Teller is

unconcerned with falderal

such as popularity

knowing, as she does,

that veracity will endure in a manner

prettiest eyes,

lies,

and cleanest ass

—will not.

The Modern Day Poet

aches with every

interaction

bruised by careless rabble

more counterfeit than compliment

(like China)

original thought diluted

by virtue of sleeping heard

Still, the Modern Day Writer wields this pain

as pen

all pain, really.

an act that can compound

but might diffuse

often astounding the scribe herself

as it disperses

into all that’s unwritten between lines

that the best Modern Day Writers include.

©Karen Robiscoe

To buff up on Modern Day Faeries–click here!