Tag Archives: poetry

Mud Gets in Your Eyes

disco_ball_red
 
She was poured

out of her skull,

&

–over rocks
 
 
Beached Sex

and I was a Hatted Man

.neat.

a double-tall drink of whiskey

sweet as cherry

~stirrup~

and ours was a toast to remember

hear! hear!

an electric Tee

that wobbled disco balls for light years.

 

©Karen Robiscoe

daily prompt: star X romance

Paint by SrebmuN

pen-and-pallet

My paint box is bursting

with wondrous hues

compared to acceptable

beiges and blues

insipid & vapid

the colors in use

no grey

on that palette

to shade in a ruse

as bland as a ballad

that’s been Auto-tuned

a voice

full of static

that’s softened & soothed

a palate

so pallid

it’s salad and soup

all nail

and no mallet

to hammer the view

aPath

so invalid

so frickin’ less avid

that matte, painter’s palette that never fell thru

→ the Gloss →

to join rabbit

now daubing that truth…

©Karen Robiscoe

 

 

Sounds Write

der-de-der

crOssing Eyes

& doTTy Tease

is polka-dotted author

–glossy lies

&

naughty-spOts

of

–truth

is what I offer…

braided weave

~ nOt saint ~

≠ nOr beast ≠

but all that Arcs between ’em

will plait

my creeds

distinct degrees

while rOping in new meaning…

©Karen Robiscoe

Daily Prompt: How I’ll Become Famous

Rite-Angling

 
 

You have to carpe diem

or fate will pass you by…

since seeing carp

— don’t free ’em —

for that you need to fly *

so don’t wait–

* bait & seize ’em

unless you don’t fish fry…

Fish_jumps_4

©Karen Robiscoe

 
 

Geddon your Arm Workout

pan_3

Charon’s Ferry

(bait and tackle)

set up shop near River Styx,

at its nexus

south of Texas

selling river-crossing trips,

the only charge

to ride that barge

a coin between your lips

assuming death

has stopped your breath

when booking you on ship….

 
 

& once aboard

with demon horde

you’ll find there’s much to do,

since power boats

don’t cross the moat

between Abyss and you,

>at very least<

that Charon beast

expects you work the crew,

so bring a paddle

like other chattel

‘fore jumpin’ on canoe.

 
 

Then feel free

(the last you’ll be)

to look around the lake,

some residents

¡were presidents!

but there’s no Watergate

no Hoover dam

but Dick’s herb and

that’s mood Depressing shake

(Herb shovels sh*t

around the Pit

with pointless, taxing rakes)

 
 

There’s Bordens, too

and Gorgons, who

are not as stoned as last time

it’s best to peek

with glance oblique

since stoning is their pastime,

avoiding stares

(& whispered prayers)

should save you from that cast eye

a payoff huge

since Pan will use

your stones for breaking glass shrines…

 
 

But when you dock

across the Loch

make sure your hands aren’t idle

as Devil loves

his ownsome gloves

not yours—that sh*t’s just libel

assist offload

as if you’re Job

both actual, and Bible,

secure the gang–

way,try to hang–

way back in case of tidal

↓ ebb & flow ↑

of flames can throw

you face to face with idols.

 
 

(a closing tip)

(there’s no round trip)

(your destination’s final)

©Karen Robiscoe