The Million Dollar Poetry Project

light control

by Wolfgang Nibori

morning’s always sneaking up on me
like an bandit with a sock full of quarters
i hate getting hit from behind that way
leaves my mind reeling the rest of the day
the hot pink glow of dawn offends my sensibilities
if i held sway over these cycles i’d let night last longer
i work better in starlight, reflect deeper by the moon’s pure guidance
i guess that means the task is to make each night mean more

This poem for sale: 8 lines = $8.00

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spin backwards to unravel

by Wolfgang Nibori

gnarled plastic rainbow of intelligence, spectrum-brilliant

pausing pondersome to over work marble boulders of mind

dusting delirious by hand all paints inconvenienced by foresight

foreshadowing elephantine tides a’glistening where all hope dies on impact

questions bubbling as bulls beating ramparts down to stampede economics

untrusted nations devising shelter plans for the Adam bomb

dust-sucking mongrels bent on dominating shades of grey upturned

so who captures your flag? who tears asunder each tiny light?

not i, nevermore. ravens speak in cryptic ways, i blame opiates

now comes the question on all minds at once - thought bombs

mushroom cloud shadows creating figments for you to fixate upon, unguided

over the reels and thru the goods, a plunder we shall roll

merry meat grinding down to redistribute muscle tone among the deaf

you see what you speak each day reflected in a blue tube

network quality varies per Era as any Pound fan can say

i say, though, STOP, listen to the way blood speaks

passing through your ears to mine and back, just like that

if you catch that rhythm long enough you won’t go blind

you’ll simply understand what i’m trying to say so backwardsly

Inspiration: Colored hands

This poem is for sale.

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