these poems were written improv in aol's arts 'n entertainment - poetry tag chat room
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Magic
it was in the clouds today
that the artist in charge
of that elemental endless easel
had put together something
awesome.
rory said clouds are always fluffy
but i've seen them droop,
even disappear,
and colorless, anti dimension
today it was
a glimpse into
the beautiful unknown, the white light, the welcome
tunnel to eternity
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a wave but
not
the pleasant
salty wetness
of the
water at the beach,
a gush
but not
of oil.
no, i did
not care
for dinner
last night...
i only
ate it to be polite
and now
i guess i know
the meaning
of instant karma
and why
honesty
is the best policy.
alloy...
you are the wrong sign,
the wrong generation,
the wrong class,
the wrong color.
.
why do you feel so right?
finely i become iron
finally, i become iron
and in your sphere
i no longer fear
allowing the alloying
because everything may be wrong,
but the chemistry.
topic: to rhyme
all he wants is a rhyme, a rhyme...
but he says just do it well
and though i do it all the time,
i feel it is an evil spell
some of the time, that need, that urge
to sit and weave a senseless dirge
supposedly useful, pithy, say "good"
any body could, just about anyone could
if they were like me in love with the word
wishing to write the greatest ever heard
but finally settling one more time
for a half assed ok, quite wry, rhyme.
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� Barbara Bales1987-2001
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