Skinny Poem
In Writing
A skinny
Poem,
I hold
My breath,
Arms close
To my body,
Pretending
Like a stick
Person
No bulging
Tummy
Nothing
To hide,
Breathing
Shallow,
Stripped
Naked,
No room
Even
For a bend
Of hair,
But the big
Steel
Toe
Boots
Hide
Ten
Wriggling
Toes
Bulge out
Off the wall.
Skinny
Enough?
An anorexia
Looks
Into a mirror,
Shakes
The big
Head
“Nope.
Not enough!”
A poem might be
Skinny,
But loaded
With a sombrero
Of meanings
Casting
Long shadows,
And bulges out
Like the steel
Toe
Boots
Hiding
Wriggling
Toes.
Yenna Yi
***************************************************************************
Sailing
The wind at my back ,
and my little boat sings.
The sail is my hook that
grabs on and rings.
I am the unchallenged
captain of the show.
I order my crew,
a roster of one,
and set
the days tone
to have some fun.
No one balks at my command.
What a rare event.
No consultation with
a board of trustees.
My whim provides all
the guidance I need..
No one to rate my
performance;
fails, meets or exceeds.
The wind is my muse,
an inspired mate.
Gaining, losing, or winning,
chalk up to fate,
Stop and Go,
right and left,
fly off the page.
useless words
of another age.
What a treat for
the wind and me,
engaged in this dance,
a dialogue so filled with chance.
If you find all that in life ,
you’d best grab tight hold.
Its pretty damn rare.
if the truth should be told.
Paul Redstone
***********************************************************************************
Abstruse
Painting pictures with words
filling in the colors
that create an image
so vivid – snapshot like –
is the art of storytellers,
poets and songwriters.
Painting pictures – a la Picasso
leave you wanting
questions loom
the brain confused
mistakes left
as direction.
With words we paint
portraits of wonder
Van Gogh skies
Monet ponds
dreamscapes
that call us to imagine.
Painting pictures with words
our palette is as full
or as sparse as
our understanding
for dialects, accents
and the nuances of meaning.
© 2020 Linda M. Rhinehart Neas