barely a seed
it starts deep
in your soul
it springs up
and blossoms
quite out
of control
it zigs
and it zags
shuffling into
some verse
and it bleeds
on your paper
for better
or worse
it may be
an epic
or just
home
sweet
home
whatever
you write
you’ve been
used by
a poem
(orig. post 12/16)
staccato gunfire
erupts in the war between
ants and woodpeckers
–photo by me
i would love to walk
among the woodland creatures–
they all run away!
i can’t help but feel ashamed
that i terrify them so
a thousand years have passed again
and thus the comet nears
the priests prepare a virgin lass
and now the god appears
they play together in the sun
he looks into her heart
and finding what he’s looking for
he bids their ways to part
the comet circles ’round the sun
the god soon disappears
for men have been found worthy of
another thousand years
I’ll change the world–
as soon as I figure out
how to change myself
geese
overhead, northbound
honking, winging, inspiring
chevrons in the sky
springtime
there are many paths
to follow in this world–
none of which are mine
only by shunning all paths
am i free to forge my own
they say that it’s spring here today
so I hurried outside just to play
and I ran all around
but was quickly worn down
as I shoveled a path all the way
a startled bench wakes
from hibernation as spring
pulls back the blankets
–photo by me
in darkness
just before the dawn
the madmen dance
out on the lawn
spin, scuttle, clop
for in the light
a toothless grin
or sunken eye
or drooling chin
betrays the madness
deep within
spin, scuttle, clop
they promenade
and curtsy low
they all join hands
and dosey doe
spin, scuttle, clop
and as the threat
of daylight spreads
they waltz their way
back to their beds
to dance all day
inside their heads
spin, scuttle, clop
(orig. posted 2/17)
michaeljordahl 