Tag Archives: free verse

the 1st Kerouac _working title

April 5, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on the 1st Kerouac _working title

Diane Robiscoe artwork
In the beginning

was

is the Word

and the Word—the beginning

the upon

neither Man-u-fractured

“time”,

nor unnecessary

“once”.
 
 
 

The

beginning

(a dark & stormy night)

of

–His·story—

…

God’s.

…

the Big Guy, you know,

your upstairs border

–the fella that barters in place of bucks

…

(you might have seen him on TBS)

but however it goes, He’s

a righter.

(I role, sure, but it explains the rent situation)

Righting

(and re-Righting)

“tome”

U-ni-Verse

that’s

U in Verse, to be precise

–wherein the lot of U’s are graphemes

characters linked into words

(mostly geographic)

excepting the compound verbs families compose, and

the repeating technique generations braid by epic chapter

…

that’s epoch chapter, but am I repeating myself?

Events cribbed on The Wrist

Happiness bolded and

underlines

Natural Disasters a crumpled ball with which He’s disgusted,

tragedies

Accidents

just Cross* Outs,

&

death the Red Pen that edits

–courtesy Lou Cipher Ink, a

P.O.D. outfit whose contracts bear a certain amount of scrutinizing,

fraught

~as they are~

in coded legalese.

 ©Karen Robiscoe

artwork by Diane Robiscoe

* subject to terms

VERSE
,

Come She Will

April 1, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Come She Will

calendar

September

~reaps~

October’s

dead

November

e< a< t< s

December’s

red

January

———–>starts

————–>anew

February’s

♥ love ♥

for you…

a lion’s

March

–as April jests!

from

May

/ pole /

moves

that

June

mOOns best.

July

unleashes—

August’s

dogs

that guard the yard

September

.crops.

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
, ,

I Know

March 31, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on I Know

Karen Robiscoe dba CHARRONs CHATTER

My I’s are all spoken

& so is my knows…

by that same token

I lip-read my pose…

 

My ego—so super

is tight under lids

ephemeral rumor

to govern my id…

 

My I’s are so pretty!

in make-up & shadow

from fathomless deep

to skitter-bug shallow

 

My knows—problematic

it’s big and it’s small

& in the right lighting

it’s not there at all.

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE

TKO

March 30, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on TKO

puzzle_piece_left
 
I’ve left my brain

–logically speaking—

in a lurch

…

my write brain

overloaded

scrambling

ambidextrous in the aftermath

(thank God math’s over)

so

I

seduced

induced

created a mock-up mind

smoke, mirrors

(so status quo)

and hot air

(for that must-have popcorn popper)

kinda like a pontoon that isn’t fully inflated

(it won’t win any Stanley cups)

and like any jerried Rig, there are

…ahh

deficiencies

mutations

complications…

cortical bridge overwhelmed by

bawling

bellowing

billowing boat

that plays havoc with recall

and port to port cargo

(I ship you not)

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
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Dream Theme

March 29, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Dream Theme

deejay

JD the DJ

liked to play

be-bop

and hip hop

night into day

a shock jock

he rolled rock

in rhythmic reggae

as mood moved

he scratched grooves

directly in grey

–matter

the platters

progressed like time

skipped LP’s

with church keys

in soundtrack sublime

and slipped disks

in playlist

exclusively mine.

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE

TAG-less, ART-less Cars

March 28, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on TAG-less, ART-less Cars

Train_passes_4

My brain is a train.

an AM track.

with plenty of

connecting steel & pin, &

carved bridges w’o trestle, I tell you

cross traffic’s a bitch, but it

coasters along

~flying 6 Flags~

>all of them red; some of them freaky<

in creative

unbelted loop-de-loops.

 
 

Sin City’s Stratosphere.

a plummeting B-line.

a runaway death drop I don’t wake up from in time.

a rush more steep

than Rushmore leap,

it’s 1 ride I can’t

resist–

regardless of risk

(& retching, too)

 
 

Bullet monorail

(with Sea View cars)

non-stop service from & to the station–

nary

its nano-second schedule

a notch 8

on narrow gauge, it’s

a necessary route…

neuroses notwithstanding, &

engineered by heart.

by Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
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Goose-goose Berry Jam

March 26, 2015 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Goose-goose Berry Jam

goose_flies
 
Mother’s Goose

was well & cooked.

Force-fed, filleted, and foie-gras’ed
 
 
 
when eloquence escaped her, and her hickory-dickory-docked–

the retrieval of which was a chase already commemorating the futility of the situation.

Wild, right? And just like those ribbon races,

it boded ill,

(to put it mildly)

–no rhyme scheme for one thing, and that irked—

the silly goose…

she forgot to duck-duck

she diddle-diddle

forgot that kat-kats

are meer sometimes, too, and apt to find her tasty

…

invite to Christmas dinner

a thinly-disguised menu, really, worth

a thorough gander before

RSVP’ing, since

scrutiny’s a good goose trait,

doncha think?

Boy goose…girl goose, it’s all the same

except for the poking thing

nudge-nudge

oh, but I digress…

Back to the dinner party

(already in progress)

Yes, Mama Bird skimmed when

she ought to have scanned

moved when she ought to have

migrated

picked a peck that proved a pickle

and this oversight

practically guaranteed the

Goose

bumped off—

well, that and her preoccupation

with perfecting a

loosey-goosey, lockstep march

–her boss being the antichrist—

©Karen Robiscoe

POETRY, VERSE
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