Bonnie’s Day Off

On his way out the door Bonnie kisses Clyde goodbye and says in her quiet voice, y’know, that voice, “Hey Honey, pick up some money at the bank on your way home, will ya?”

OK, not poetry. But it is amusing and has a rhyme… honey/money, which reminds me… Please check out my donation/tip page on your way through.

Click here: /poetkevinjtaylor

Pangaea

Standing.  Alone.
A yellow sky.  A shudder, grind
And hesitation of the earth.
Below, black seas heave and sigh
Against a scar of land.
Night.  Yellow sky remains.
Arc and flicker.
I breathe.  Night fades.
A shallow breath.
Acid rain falls gently.

 

Pangaea: Proto-continent existing about a half billion years ago eventually breaking into two continental masses, Gondwana & Laurasia. Gondwana: made up of areas now Africa, most of Australia, India, South America & Antarctica.   Laurasia: North America, Greenland, Europe & Asia north of the Himalayas.

Published in: “souls arriving” 2006: “Letter to the White Imbongi” 2013: “3201 e’s” 2018

Hymn of the Fallen Tree

Let me rest among these giant souls that stand
where trees once stood.

Here, greens break into blacky-blues and dragonflies
and dusts of beetle dung grow old withal.

Let me rest among the salmonberry and the tumblewood
of cotton, ash and hemlock, fir and cedar.

And let the wind stir of pine above the fall reawaken me
in early greens and sapling dress, anon.

 

Published in: “souls arriving” 2006 as title “Tumblewood”: “Between Music and Dance” 2013: “Letter to the White Imbongi” 2013: “The Footprint Press” 2014: “3201 e’s” 2018