Megs

She's got that smile again,

Screaming,

"Snap the damn picture."

Her hair is getting aggitated,

Mirroring her mood.

At least it's down for once.

I prefer it restrained

So her face glows

Like it should.

This was our finale,

The long-feared end to forever.

The mornings are faded,

and the covers are mine.

I'm no longer held back

When I'm pissed off

And she's afraid.

The scars are now blended skin.

Epiphany

Night settles;
A long awaited yawn
Tasting of putrescent leaves.
Trees reach upwards
Towards the milling mare's tail.
It's arms, fingers,
They are like my own;
Stretching as far as my dreams
To touch the fey crystals.

This is not the end;
It is merely a beginning.

We Real Cool

The Pool Players.
Seven At The Golden Shovel.

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

-Gwendolyn Brooks



"The Fonz." Picture. Photobucket.com. 14 April 2009. http://i259.photobucket.com/albums/hh303/RJN182/TheFonz3.jpg

New Years Eve

Junky, chunky
Fattening filling.
Noisy sparks of various hues.
Silly feet tapping out nonsense
gatherings of drunk and
not.
Mistakes are forgotten;
Pick yourself up and try again.

Perfection

So much depends

upon

Brown eyes looking

into blue

Wrapped in his

quiet arms

Knowing everything

is perfect.

Riddle Poem

Untitled, but do riddles need one?

I flit, I dip,
I caper and strut,
Spinning blurs of color.
I am the expression of bedazzled couples
With clicking heels
And cheap perfume.
I inspire
I am created
And everyone is drawn to my glamor.
Listen to the piece,
Feel the beat,
I'll help beguile you.

(what am i?)

Answer

Found Poem

Untitled

Enlightening magic.
True match,
Relax.
Gorgeous antique dream ends up serene.
Unclutter.
Fall in love.
Instant glow.
Raise indulgence all over again.
Luck of the Irish appeal.
Spicy colors cultivate awareness.
Everlasting classic,
Disguised whimpering.
Space stretching molester,
Freshness tastes like dessert.
Puzzle solved.