It's good to see you are sharing your writing again, Robin.

Toes stop at the foot
of buried corpse holes,
mustn't trample dead coots
with kids and soccer goals.

Tombstone eulogies gush
chipped script effigies
mouthy cadavers hushed
embalmed expired retirees.

Thought bubbles inflated
with the stink breath hot air
of closet poets frustrated
drawing comics in dark lairs.

Ordained mortician preachers
recite trite pamphlet ads
selling creature comfort features
they exaggerated a tad.

Silk lined wooden crate
hermetic gasket seals it,
formaldehyde filled veins
throat too tight for pealing.

Crematorium furnace sparks
within it the sickness burns,
rebuild cemeteries into parks
put grandma's bone flakes in an urn.

I really appreciate it when my writing is acknowledged. Thanks y'all.

Barack Adedd

Corn kernel husk scraping my gums
honey roasted peanut butter under
my thumbnail, Ritz cracker crumbs
dusting my bed sheet
empty popcorn bag ballooning
in the fan flow on my TV tray table.

Swish of water from my Nicola Tesla glass
this stubborn skin still stuck in my teeth
gargle of coffee from my Gonzo mug
to rinse my gullet and flood fill my stomach.
A caffeinated pool for this hodgepodge to float in
some parts per million to dilute bile acid.

Ogre grumbles quiet the beast is fed,
now a few hours of shut eye
switched off the riot and laid down my head.

Thanks for the support guys.

Galloping galleon bucking gales
drowning stallion trotting water,
humpbacked whales
swimming swift from slaughter.
Command chain rift, mutiny bound
scuttled cutter sandbar aground.
Hagfish and squid, krill and flounder
dorsal fin rising circles around her,
chubby sailors splinting the keel -
she ain't built like Noah's ark,
great white hunters in search of a meal
their quivering blubber now food for a shark.

A. Jude Ickader

Trek resonates more with me, but I like elements of both.

I appreciate the encouraging motivational themes you write about, Aatheera.

Ty Neenuts

Hugh Jeego

Thanks, Robin.

I appreciate it, Julie.

Thanks man.

Kind of you, Robin.

We weren't members of the Lutheran flock,
but it didn't hamper those April walks, with mom
and Daena hoofing springy steps that freshened
our breath and line dried clothes.

Trail-head for the stroll a red brick road
aptly named Mason where our rented home
stood above sand on piled blocks.

Left turn on McGee Tisha's house is two away
from the intersection cornering a field of bouquets
in bloom along Monroe avenue.

Hues that accent the stained glass panes
pop of color for the plain brown table,
fuchsia purple, pastel blue, and red copper
belonged in a vase not a lawnmower hopper.

Puppies are reared to frolic
piss on bushes and lick faces
sniff butts and hump like rabbits.

People are raised up docile
told to lower the blinds
zip up their pants
bow to the crowned and do-si-do.

Square dancing marionettes
dishing caviar for the captain
but food stamps can't buy them tickets
to his opulent ball.

Do the bunny hop you little breeders
get your buzz on and fill up those hives
then kowtow in the beekeepers smoke.

Thanks, Julie. This is based on an actual experience I had in the early 1990's while working as a carpet cleaning tech on Disney property here in Florida. It was surreal seeing world famous Bob Hope being ushered quietly out the service entrance of the fancy hotel just steps in front of me.

Machines called ninja's
were about as agile as a
flying brick. Rolling them
across asphalt parking lots
with coiled hoses piled
atop their tubs took muscle.

Me with my best friend and
wand slinging partner lugged
the gear in at the service
entrance, prepping for another
sludge sucking session.

Checked in early at the Plaza
hotel so ascent to the twenty
seventh floor must wait.
Loitered outside the aluminum
framed sliding glass gate
so my comrade could smoke.

The doors parted and exiting
from the shadow within came
a frail man clothed in pajama
pants a burgundy velvet
smoking jacket and slippers.

As he slowly shuffled past us
arm led toward the nearby
nightclub by a woman decades
his junior, I asked under my breath
is that George Burns?

Still scratching my head,
we proceeded to stuff
wet vacs on steroids into an
elevator and start the rise.
Heading to the top, boyish bouncing
jammed the lift between floors.

After a stint of claustrophobic
confinement we reached our target
and cleaned the carpet.
While loading out my partner's
light bulb brightened and he
blurted "That was Bob Hope!".