A Few Poems

Sometimes, after reading poetry, I’m left scratching my head, confused and befuddled.

Image result for light through a window

A Few Poems

I’ve read today, a few poems.
One poet was certain
that gods grew,
like tumors,
from the side of his head.
Another insisted
“injuries exist
without brains.”

Far too simple to grasp
these diagnostics,
I return to familiar indulgences:

a Sunday morning peace;
the only sound – heat coursing through
the pipes, that rattle and knock,
clinking as a broken clock,

the sun, now streaming
through the window blinds,
painting the sofa
with stripes of light and shadow,

the steam rising
from my coffee mug
like magic from a witch’s
bubbling cauldron,
to curse or to bless.

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12 thoughts on “A Few Poems

      1. You did and I will be nipping in often. πŸ˜‡ of course you could take a peek at my place genre free I even surprise myself with the challenges I grasp. πŸ˜‡πŸ˜€

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  1. That’s one of the things I like about your poetry. It’s understandable. I don’t have to guess what you’re really saying with obscurer words that don’t paint pictures, don’t make any sense. I understand dragons and fairies and elves and things that live under bridges. I don’t understand gods growing out of someone’s head.

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  2. Linda (granonine) said it for me, but then she and I usually see eye to eye. I do appreciate comprehensible (I guess poets say “accessible”) poems — and especially poems about nature — which is why I like to read your verses. Hope I can get caught up reading the ones I missed over the holidays.

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