Tag Archives: poetry corner

From the Poetry Corner ~ What Doesn’t Kill Me Makes Me Stranger

 Gentle Readers,

 While not every poem we write is a great one, sometimes we write them anyway. We realize it is time for a blog and Ferd hasn’t done anything noteworthy to report on today, so why not just take the time and take this rhyme and maybe enjoy it and maybe not.

 It was on a piece of paper next to the laptop when we woke up, so we may as well share it here and then we do not have to stick it in a drawer with all the other poems on loose leafs.

 Our eventual friend, Mr Happy Death, awaits us all, so we may as well give the devil his due and what better way than with some good, old-fashioned poetry?

 

Many times in this short life
I’ve put myself in danger.
Looking back, I came to know
what didn’t kill me
made me stranger!
 
Nobody leaves this place alive…
on that I’d always wager.
If you can say a better way,
tell me what it is.
I’ll trade you.
 
It always goes that way
but there’s still no need to pray
Earth is worth a dearth of mirth.
Why give birth to dismay?
 
Golden flowers on the quay
float, and bobbing, drift away.
They twirl and whirl, unfurled, then curl.
Surely, sinking ends their day.
 
~
And that is it,  Dear Readers, nothing heavy, nothing lengthy, just a little verse spilled over the wall. A short blog for a rainy day.
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Poetry Corner ~ Windup Toy

     Considerate Literates,

     It appears that you enjoy reading the bits of literature and poetry we have posted since changing the theme of our blog.  The numbers do not lie and we find it gratifying to post something besides the usual rant about subjects near and dear to us.

     We are not sure why the do not have poetry circles, as opposed to the poetry corner, but if it was good enough for Bullwinkle J. Moose, it ought to be good enough for us.  The avantage here is that we get to finish the poem, whereas Bullwinkle never had such luck.  We miss Bullwinkle on Saturday mornings.  We heard that Sarah Palin made an assassination attempt on him but he appears to have escaped unscathed so we wish him the best!

     Today’s offering is another older one, since we had the notebook open from the last blog and also since this week saw the celebration of International Womans Day.

Windup Toy

Here at the factory door she stands,

hair on her shoulders in greasy, limp strands.

The door slams behind her.  She doesn’t make plans.

“What’s the use in it all? What’s the use, then,” she screams?

Weekends collapse into cascades of dreams.

On Monday it’s back to the sound of machines.

Comforts she finds in the arms of her lover

quiet the restlessness yet never quite smother

dissatisfaction – it tugs at the covers.

Passions consumed with the closing of eyes,

cigarette lit, by the window she lies.

Eternities live while her destiny dies.

                     ~                                              ~                                                      ~

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