shadow play

/ grumpygorman

sorted out
of order,

years unpacked-
arranged backwards,

stumbling through
my clutter..

sheathing blunted
box cutter.

pixabay
/ grumpygorman

morning feels
seperate from day,

any meaning left
in saying?

heart’s not in it
but let’s
play..

can’t shower off
a brain,

standing stunned
in artificial
rains–

won’t chase sorrow
down the
drain..

sick of stale rhymes
ranyway.

pixabay
/ grumpygorman

rather get
real-

than be
right

is
the lever

that heightens or
lowers

soapbox of
speaker–

peering up
to..

leer down
at..

so little eye
to eye–

a poor excuse
to not
try.

image: geralt (pixabay
/ grumpygorman

coping
or crutching

midst copious
munching

in
kitchen–

on
throne–

too full of
alone..

fasting, then
grasping

at sweet
highs

are
crashing..

the flavor’s not
lasting!

no grinding while
sleeping,

less waking..
repeating.

image: ds_30 (pixabay)
/ grumpygorman

pretty sleepy, just to
look at me–

dirtiest of
sandman’s works,

when desert
gust

tore last page
of dream

from
fate’s book,

i swear the
hourglass shook.

image; pixel2013 (pixabay)


/ grumpygorman

eternal graze

on plaster
lawn,

no sweat
lost-

nothing on a
sunday

starved for
song.

image: Pexels (pixabay)