May 1, 2015 
Comments Off on Art-less = Art•i•sans
pick
art
out of artifact,
and what do
i
have?
a distinctly
less mystical
mass
f
a
c
t
& wash art
away
from
artifice,
and where am
i
then?
whole lotta fuss
over
nothin’
f
u
s
s
& clip
art
out of
articulate
and
how do
i
respond?
c
u
late
…er…
más o menos
April 30, 2015 Comments Off on the Skinny
an animal advocate
she gave up Carne
it was fair
and
became a
vegetarian…
a bleedin’ heart
and green thumb
she gave up Greens
and
became
a
planetarium…
a Nature lover
indeed
and globally aware,
the consequence
was
no
atrium.
April 28, 2015 Comments Off on Buy Karen
Hello, kidrows…rows of kids…blogg-ettes & blogg-ers…punchers of keys, clocks, and drinX…
Just a note to encourage one and all to swing by Meat for Tea–A Valley Review, wherein a recent publication of mine is–ahh–publicated. Yes, in PDF, print, and pretty colors, my essay:
Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door is available for purchase and bird cage liner right at this very moment!
…
…
What? You still here? G’wan then…have a click over and check out this awesomely named journal with discerning taste–I mean–they use meat for tea, don’t they?
(they do)
All jestin’ aside. Your support is much appreciated, as writing levees an unseen toll on a writer that goes far beyond the cost of ink cartridges.
(The number#2 pencils, alone!)
click to surf over.
And here’s the link to latest publication: PMS Diatribe, featured in Blue Crow Journal, issue # 4. A short story with a humorous bent, it keeps company with several other fine artists’ works. I appreciate anyone who buys it. M-W-A-H.
April 26, 2015 Comments Off on Ewe Got Plenty of Mutton
I’ll never be part of the heard…
I’ll always be art of the said,
the speaker of all those BIG words,
the herd cant get out of their head.
Not shaven, not shortened, not sheared–
but growing by virtue of speech.
sweet nothings that fill up the ears,
of sheep designated for fleece.
I’ll never remind you of ewe…
My wool can negate your ram.
spoken, or spiel’ed, or spew
knit sweaters with letters—I can!
Not Mary, not Jesus, not law
will ever describe me as lamb,
the chops that I got are in jaw–
the thoughts that I jot are mint jam.
©Karen Robiscoe
March 2, 2015 Comments Off on Maison de Maslow
I’d rather live in a glass house
than an A Frame,
as it ‘pears amid
all that construct
–insomnia, libido, and famine run rampant!
(rampant–not rampart)
Furthermore…
I have broken the safety rafter
(the foundational stud)
bouncing as hard I did,
from it
to the rafter
I loved,
having long since
lost hold on
the actuality of self
–I fell—
(faster than a’steam
room)
growing mold
&
seeking stasis…
Karen Robiscoe
March 1, 2015 Comments Off on Fine Print
Don’t ask if I’m all right
unless
it seems as if I’m left–
fielding tosses
‘makes me cross
and skews the level stress–
turns resolve
to “be the ball”
to futile, fumbled quest–
‘makes me peek
in glass to seek
my worst instead of best.
Don’t ask if I’m all right
unless
my parts are clearly broken–
it makes me doubt
what I’m about
it’s better if unspoken–
it tries my will
it makes me ill
this self-fulfilling notion–
it worsens hell
when you can tell
I’m going through the motions.
Don’t ask if I’m all right
because
the answer’s always yes
I’m fine
I’m great!
there’s no debate
there’s nothing to profess…
©Karen Robiscoe
daily prompt: what Q gives you the heebie-jeebies
February 26, 2015 Comments Off on Do Over
clammy hands
racing heart
shivers
← there →
→ to here ←
knocking knees
sound like bees
buzzing in my ear…
instant chill
feeling ill
standing ends of
/ hair /
sweat runs cold
lose control
tripping over air…
mouth is dry
breath—a sigh,
eyes are fixed to ground
thoughts
~confused~
words refuse
.to form.
when you’re around…
©Karen Robiscoe
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