Tag Archives: verse

Ewe Got Plenty of Mutton

small-dancing-abba

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

Prose & Con(verse)

rain_rain

after the rain

do you see the bow?

or do you track mud,

wherever you go…

–in steps you don’t measure

–in boots made for walking

in loops,

but not lines,

that don’t lead to treasure?

& after the trials

are eyes open wider?

or do you walk gauntlet,

always the fighter…

–instincts you don’t curb

–in acts that prolong

in loops,

and in lines,

the thing that disturbs?

& after the strut

do you wait in wings?

of stage that is silent,

or hear angels sing…

–in tones that are gleaming

–where sound and light merge

in lines,

but not loops,

of lyrics redeeming?

since after the reign

& after all glory

a new page begins,

–and so does your story…

rainbow

©Karen Robiscoe

A lil what-what this A.M. An essay I wrote was accepted for publication by journal: Meat for Tea. So yay. I am obviously seeing the rainbow today! Wishing the same for all would beez ought there. Pizza Out….

Maison de Maslow

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

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

 

Do Over

beez_pleeze

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

daily prompt: nervous

Echo, echo, echo (location)

Girl_Runner_shadow

I didn’t feel alone today

the minute I awoke…

It’s just that I lacked company,

so to myself I spoke

–and there’s the rub,

and them’s the breaks,

awaiting some reply–

no voice intoned,

no, just my own,

exhaling in a sigh…

 

I didn’t note

a lack of love,

enough to raise alarm,

no rounded shoulder

~hanging over~

swinging, empty arms,

 

and later on

–I didn’t miss

a second, as I strolled,

deserted shores

no, all the more

grit to chafe my sole…

 

I didn’t wish

to share my dish

when dining then at night,

I washed my plate

no aftertaste

from unexpected bites.

 

I didn’t feel alone today

the minute I awoke…

It’s just that I lacked company

so to myself I spoke.

©Karen Robiscoe

daily prompt: “when is the last time you felt alone