Category: Unplugged

Same path

I walked down the path
same as every day
trees waving arms
lake rippling
feet dragging
mind full.

Perhaps I shouldn’t’ve lost my temper
last night in bed—
reading was no crime
I should’ve obliged
turning over 
not turning off.

Perhaps I could make it up tonight
a nice dinner
spaghetti and meatballs
swimming in starchy sauce
I’d pick a lamp as well
to liven our abode.

Perhaps I should lighten up more
take it easy,
yell less; listen often
“how was your day?
pray tell, honey”
for I care what I hear.

Perhaps I too should get a book
keep occupied
and read together
as Ted and wife
world knowing poet
wannabe aide.

I walked down the path
just as every day
feet dragging
mind full—
eyes blind,
ears dumb.

Nightwalkers

I was awake all night
comforter failing to deliver
air streams crashing 
bashing on my window
forcing theirselves upon it
as lawmakers, 
shoving on cars
petty thieves—only harsher.

Resilient stood the glass
barring entry, the faithful dog
shielding striking shards
from breaking 
entering, shattering
life, like a terrorist mob
while I crumbled
cold feet, in fear.

Unforgiving, it knocked on
knocking down swaying barks
snapping lives like beans
stranger in the night
estranged from the soul
in menacing hatred
blowing out hope
guns bellow in the street.