poem the 4th: it’s all in my head

it’s all in your head

they said.

all wrapped up in imagination

and flights of fancy

all the silly things that don’t matter

that didn’t happen that way.

perhaps you misunderstood

they said

to assure themselves that they are right

or just to make sure that you are wrong.

these things don’t exist

they said

except in your head.

but i wrote them down

all the silly things in my head

that i was told don’t exist

that are not true.

i wrote them down

making them real

turning them into stories for all the world to see.

i put them in order

all neat and tidy

saving them for future reference.

they may come in handy some day

there may come a time that i may need them again.

i imagine their usefulness

how they will fit into

the scheme of things.

i imagine their divine power

their ability to connect with everything outside my head.

after i wrote them down

you read them

and now they are in your head.

Poem the 3rd: dr. smileyface: or how i learned to stop being nice and love my life the way it is

source unknown

should i smile more?
do you like me?
do you think i am nice?
once, for lent i gave it up.
being nice that is.
didn’t miss it
so i let it go
and never took it back.

Poem the Second: Incantations of Hope for the Future

source unknown

they’re just left overs
but as i carefully scoop them
into airtight containers,
taking care to get every drop
every morsel stubbornly clinging to the pan
so as to not let anything
go to waste,
i breathe into them hope
for the future
an incantation against disaster.
it’s more than i expect they
can deliver but i’m optimistic.
they will chill in the fridge
waiting for the time i remember
they are still there
and the hope i had for them.
i think ultimately they have higher hopes for me
than i do of them.
it’ not fair but that’s how it is.

Poem the First

source unknown

a date book of misadventures

seconds hold the small promises that precious
minutes hope to reveal as memorable
hours and are recorded in the book of

days that aspire to be made tidy as the
weeks and
months refuse to behave like the glorified

past times remembered fondly but were clearly
present actions showing off for
future reference.

I Walked on Broken Feet

Photo by Birmingham Museums Trust on Unsplash

I walked on broken feet
to see the angels fly
high above looking
down where they saw
tiny things of insignificance.
Stepping carefully
I saw them watching me
and then
I grew wings and flew away
soaring with the angels.

words escape me

Photo by Wayne Lee-Sing on Unsplash

words escape me
running down the street
squealing with glee
and delirious freedom.
they will not be tied down
with strings to the page
where they will struggle
determined to break free
from rules and pompous looks
that would put them in their place
like naughty children caught misbehaving.
they will not be silenced
or muffled between dust jackets of dusty books
or tsk-tsked into shame and embarrassment.
words escape me
and I wave good bye and wish them well.