Monday, January 23, 2012

Original Poems I

Concrete
 Base Ball                                         round
                                                  fits nicely in his,
                                                long, lankey fingers
                                           dulled white with red laces
                                        comes screaming at the batter
                                         the bat misses the curve ball
                                             he makes contact, foul                               
                                                strike three snaps, 
                                                    glove closes 
                                                        we win
                                                                               


10. MUNDANE


Candle

The wax
colored,
scented
the tall ones
stretching high
on the dinner table
displayed
on a glass pedistal.
fat ones
covering up
everyday odors
Smelling like pine cones
apples or the summer breeze
The small ones
can float forever
spreading light
perfect gifts
perfect mood.

Spring board poem

I Am

I am my self
I see things others don't
I hear country songs on the radio
I see barn reminding me of my childhood

I pretend to act like i don't care
I feel the hot floors with my bare feetI touch the soft fur of my dog laying next to me
I worry that I will miss the important things in life

I understand that people change
I dream of an ideal world
I try to think of others
I am myself 


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