the city is smashed iron
knives cutting the sky wide
rust rains down on us
Tag: free verse
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the spot behind his
ear rolls him on his back and
to his special joy
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Self care is noble
Look after yourself today
Serve others tomorrow
Exploring both Haiku and Tanka writing is a revelation. As dark and cruel as some of my poetry is, one should never mistake the heart of the artist with their work.
At one with Cosmos
We pulse with Universal
Love and Stardust Light
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How proud your colors once – now tied in baling wire, bleached grey weathered tatters dangling.
Captain, my captain, your hull is torn, black bottomed asphalt weighed down as the Forest calls you to water.
Anchored on cinder blocks, your sails hang in rags. With Mushroom sprouted barnacles, you await the dusky leaf sea.
You are beached, broken, sinking slowly in suburbia.
Shipwrecked.
Finding an old sailboat parked by the side of the road, her best years behind her. I see abandoned and broken cars all the time – never boats.
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Seen on road side sign
‘Abortion is Murder,’ here
I have killed then.
I live in Gary, IN – like Detroit, Michigan, it’s a depressed area with a clear color divide. Outside of Gary, white holy rollers preach the gospel and tell women what they can and can’t do with their bodies. It’s a fucking disgrace.
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reloading i spat back
protests
complaints
requests
attacks
demands
i stood on
the high ground
of history
they didn’t care
as they
machine-gunned
me
down with
racism
rhetoric
reason
capitalism
profit
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we honeymooned
in new jersey just
across the river
from the
big town
some guys
above
us wd piss out
the windows at
night and drop
used condoms
on the
fire escape
hanging out
side our own
window swollen
with their seed
it was the best
time of our lives
and we didn’t
need condoms
we had
each other
I remember this time so well as we had found this place online and it was a shithole with puke in the common bathroom that my wife would clean because no one else would have and we had to use it for the three days we were there
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Jane smashes the bar
Drunks wallowing in her rage
‘Who wants to fight?!’
No one raised a hand now
But they would once she slept
Writing in Tanka form – 5/7/5/7/7 syllables.
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Todd Moore: Outlaw Poet Godfather Explaining what your work is about up front is bullshit. The work stands by itself and if people wanna know more than maybe you tell them – or maybe you tell them to make up their own damn mind.
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she wears
a onesie
burns like
a roman
candle
you pay
top $
allusion, suggestion, implication are the bullets in the poetry gun👉
Outlaw Poetry 