Category Archives: Rhymed Verse

Shifting Stones

Passage made by Nature:
A riverscape of streets
Through buildings made for drier days
Like cookies crumbling in the heat
An island made of shifting stones –
Sanctuary with a side of fear
A perch amidst the city’s bones:
There shouldn’t be a Venice here.


He

He waters the ground with patience, care.
He adds fertilizer and lays straw there.
He tends and tends and tears his hair,
But dead seeds won’t grow,
So the land stays bare.


Catch Up: An Exercise in Silliness

SC: [sing-songy]

Catch up, ketchup, caught –
A single line of thought.
So easily squished, so easily dead.
Are you sure I can’t just read instead?

 

IC: What is that even about? Ketchup?

SC: Don’t judge!


The Poetry Store

“Oh, no!” she cried, tears in her eyes,
“The poetry store is dark inside!
The shelves are empty – the rhymes are gone!
No books! No schemes! No driving song
Of meters pushing each word on.
This cannot be! This is a crime –
To take poetry but leave us time!
Who would bury us with such woes
As to live and die with only prose?”


A Little Irish Craic: Happy Saint Patrick’s Day

An oversight, a quick mistake,
But now, it’s more than I can take!
Thinking of songs and dance and beer –
Of Irish craic, fun, and good cheer –
I forgot one thing (one little flaw),
And it’s like I broke some sainted law!
Constant pinches, laughter, too!
What country’s colors are black and blue?
And to pinch a girl for not wearing green?
That’s not Irish – that’s just plain mean!


What

What is that person standing there?
A Muslim – a black – a Jew?
Why ask it when you already know?
It’s a person – same as you.


Payment in Advance

I pay now for another’s choice
But also for my own
I did not speak out or raise my voice –
And that shame is mine alone.
My silence then was cowardice,
My disbelief unwise,
But to keep them now, to turn my back,
Is closing more than eyes.


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