December 8, 2014 
Comments Off on First On Race Day
3’s
a
crowd
&
2
too much
opt
4
spot
that’s
far
from
clutch,
1
is
lone
–it’s
—prime
—-it
—–starts!
&
bests
the
rest
with
no
odd
parts,
it’s
first
(in)
(verse)
once
pen
in
hand,
no
search
4
more–
just
pen
&
man.
it’s
sole
so
spare
it’s
fine
&
rare,
a
stag
to
brag,
but
not
to
share.
©Karen Robiscoe
December 6, 2014 Comments Off on I Got a Feeling
trust your gut
>that little voice<
any time you make
a choice,
since hairs
will only stand on nape,
when the feedback
is innate.
your sense that’s sixth
is intuition
comprising more
than inner frisson
composed of sheets of
fine perceptions
gathered from
untold impression
body language?
sure that’s one
and moues on mug
can start that thrum
add history
of other such
and soon
you’ll have
a flutter-gut.
Yes, Sig Man Freud
conjectured apt:
coincidence
is utter crap
–all accidents
a misconception–
while ESP
is true collection…
of hundreds
maybe thousand
things
assembled from
the outside in.
©Karen Robiscoe
December 6, 2014 Comments Off on Oz Borns
Oz never gave the Metal Man
mettle
but he did
find it at a souvenir stand there,
and Dorothy got a wicked
pair of vintage kicks
–made for walking
(and her little dog, too)
but where was she even going?
(her next shin-dig)
everyone knows you wear slippers around the house,
and the straw man,
well, the straw man
he was proven liar
by his very instance
–albeit a clever one—
now wasn’t he…
while the lion
(rahr, the lion)
might have whiled away
his fearful existence in peace,
a dream away a dream away
had not that trio happened upon him
and taught him he was
afraid.
©Karen Robiscoe
December 4, 2014 Comments Off on Maid Merry End
when does a “to do” list
become a bucket list,
a “must do this”
but “f*ck that” list…
when “to do”
or “to die”
is today
or to try, lest–
passing years
find ink just
dried grist
a tucked-into-pocket
reason to sigh, since
wish without action
is stuck in the mud, it’s
just up to you
not luck
or a near miss…
©Karen Robiscoe
December 4, 2014 Comments Off on the 3rd Bird
A pigeon whose bridge is
wire in blue
admires the newsprint
absorbing his poo
warbling his Window
–seat’s truer than true
cooing a moot streak
in doody-ful spew…
while bird who’s invested
in feathering nest is
best at peacocking
and puffing your breast
pretending & mocking
with zeal and zest
as long as this effort
furthers his quest…
but peckers are
wreckers, their
song just affect
an advance in pecking
to subsequent deck
a pat, pretty phrase
you’ve come to expect
a characteristic
they’ve come to perfect
since parrot can praise
but can’t give a feck…
©Karen Robiscoe
December 2, 2014 Comments Off on Awfully Great
the crux of it
is
flux
— sometimes up–
–sometimes sucks!
since chance to change
your lot
and luck,
requires
judgment,
plan,
and pluck..
to shift
can be
upsetting
but–
–rousing, too,
like dawn
or dusk.
thus view
that urge
to verge
as plus
~the best of times~
put trust in gut.
©Karen Robiscoe
prompt: best of times; worst of times
November 29, 2014 Comments Off on Hashtag: iCon-tacks
My rosary-colored glasses…
a focused, hocus-pocus
>knows for locus<
a lanyard of beads
(between temples)
on witch to count
the mysteries & the sorrows…
(ah, the sorrows!)
+ plus cross +
&
built-in spare nails, tho’
…
altogether
redeeming specs,
wouldn’t you say?
©Karen Robiscoe
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