Short Spikey Poems

Sharp, spikey
in green coat
weed?...

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male pampas grass blooms
spikey, creamy, shoots against green.... 
bumble bee's hums roar  ...

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I hear its scary voice
Approaching my scope
I hear its ruffling footsteps
Walking through my door 
Wildly opening its arms
I feel its spikey claws crawling on me
Digging deep inside me
Pouching my soul   
And neglecting my body on the old mat...

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behind my last
word
and letter
is the wh
missing the why
Yet a yeti without an eye
rattle the door
to give them a scare
the Baritone sax
the all knowing facts
spikey haired to the max.
Still until the still is still
cloned myself twice
hoping one of them
will end me
is the wh just waiting on the at...

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It’s a weed in name only
Spikey green leaves, a yellow face 
Hearty with a no-nonsense enthusiasm 
Growing with total abandon
With no regard for rules 
In gardens, lawns, in tiny cracks
At last forming a perfect ball of silver threads
Pouf! The seeds blown by the wind
Or by little ones with childish delight
The dandelion….


4/4/19...

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verdent leaves
spikey, pointed,
symmetrical, heart-shaped,

walnuts, oak, maple
one lone elm
unseen in Kansas for awhile

crickets are buzzing
grating commercial airline sound
buzzing, trilling, droning

the forest is alive
insects chirping and chattering
one loud angry caw

clop clop clop
ha ha ha
locusts add to the orchestra...

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ice crystals rest on my window
like a second skin
a season's restless spirit
in water vapour
condensing 
a winter picture frame
spheres of spikey stains
in a silent closing
patterns complete
symmetry looping
luring
ice flowers tangible
that carve their way
down my window
till a warming sun
swallows them whole




Poem composed January 29, 2023...

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Anthony
Weary of things once craved... then became
burning and squirming under life bending lens
caving in to please those spikey-shadowy things
a million mental monkeys to navigate through
not enough butterfly- beauty or bloom.

Another flight into a barbed wire sky
lonely spirit wandering a cloudy lullaby
driven to the fringe of a dead end town, 
just another bloated fun house clown
dabbing rouge onto hope's sunken cheek.
                   Anthony...

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