The giver

Patients nurse broken bones
doctors patiently wait
nurses doctor paperwork
don’t take the bait
spiderweb-crack
they say there’s no way
never look back
there’s nothing to say
now who’s knocking at the door
now who’s flopping on the floor
silver sliver soil and shiver
grace granted God the giver…

– K Poleet

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“There is no way to peace along the way of safety. For peace must be dared, it is itself the great venture and can never be safe. Peace is the opposite of security. To demand guarantees is to want to protect oneself. Peace means giving oneself completely to God’s commandment, wanting no security, but in faith and obedience laying the destiny of the nations in the hand of Almighty God, not trying to direct it for selfish purposes.” – Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Meditations on the Cross

Bye for now

Warble warble quaver away
trilly trilly yammer and quay
velvety melody mewing a-sway
ditty ditty cadaverous clay
frog-faced brier
maladroit crier
ventriloquist liar
trunculated sire
now I lay me down to sleep
virgins, villains mocking-weep
ozone-coppered clomping creep
roll on down the rubbish-heap…

– K Poleet

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Your philosophy

Mascara drizzles down your cheek
a few more beers it’s not so bleak
take a ride
a phenomenal ride
past prison bars and distant stars
fat bass busting out my speakers
steal a brand-new pair of sneakers
brimming with satire all ’round the campfire
Barbarians at the gate
fueled by nothing more than hate.
Really? A wrinkle in space and time?
Your philosophy ain’t worth one thin dime…

– K Poleet

Jan_Vermeer_van_Delft_007

Address the Elbow!

Masses raise their heads and sing
angelic praises to their king
paper cuts and bleeding fingers
let the wondrous pleasures linger!
We all live in cardboard boxes
feast on wild dogs and foxes
goat bleats in the brackish brume
glory in the morbid gloom
tea and truffles served too late?
Teach your children all to hate.
Address the Elbow! one and all
Address the Elbow! or we fall…

– K Poleet

woman-fastening-her-garter-1878

Borrowed Blue

What had this furious one won through mischievous deeds?
Solace.
A soliloquy of sorrow, borrowed blue, an intense void.
She appeared on a whim on a moonless night.
If
only
I’d
known
her.
Her hair, golden silk, shielding saddened eyes.
Trembling voice,
trembling hand.
It was just an act; no impending fate.
Once the tears and blood had dried
I tried to understand.
But by then, borrowed blue, it was much too late…

– K Poleet

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