Eden’s Eastside


I wanna go

to Cannery Row

ride my Red Pony

~cantering slow~

–Travelin’ with Charley—

a fellow who knows…

Steinbeck, the author

a scribblin’ pro.


We’ll meet him

near Eden

just East of idyll–

I’ll sweet talk

and greet him

and ask if he will…

embellish my history

–so run of the mill—

and rewrite my life lines

with his skillful quill…


I’ll ply him with Grapes

not Wrathful: fermented!

whatever it takes

’til’ bio’s cemented,

The facts lightly fudged

to proper extent, so

ending reveals

a Pearl of content,

and Zeitgeist disguises

its lack of event.


The background

will foreground!

and crises turn pages…



from infant to aged

Yes, John is the man

to record my diction

of life I have lived

a creative non-fiction.

©Karen Robiscoe

daily prompt: ghostwriter

M’s Little Pieces


On shattered glass

I wrote a face

its canvas unrelentingly,

tattooed eyes

that seemed surprised

and downturned mouth lamenting.
On second pass

I charted space

between my borrowed ribs,

drew blackest hole

where heart would go

breaking several nibs.
On third and last

I tried to trace

unmanifest inside,

the spirit pure

the light obscured

and sketched a broken smile.

©Karen Robiscoe

daily prompt: mirrored


%d bloggers like this: