12 December 2008 • 8:03 pm
I wake
and the world
has not changed
since last I looked
The world wakes
looks at me and says
What are you still doing there
waiting for the world to change?
(D. James)
Filed under: art, breakfast poems, d. james, literature, poem, poetry, writing , change, look, perspective, questions, riddle, self-referential, world
What I remember
are images
The words are gone
and live a life of their own
They never call me nor write
but the images
are still with me
and sometimes
I do wish
they would pay rent
EL SEBBO
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Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad sex and bad breath, birthday poems, breakfast poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems, the queen of england, writing
Delicate
isn’t my name
and yet I am moved
by the imbecile
gently led by his father
down the street
while screaming songs
at the top of his head
I am moved
by a white cloud
standing still
over the city
like a gentle threat
I am moved
by your breath
gently lifting the sheets
deep in the night
when I can’t sleep
Yes delicate things
move me deeply
and confirm
the rage hidden
at the core of my words
The rage of impotence,
hope and rebellion
- but not despair
Despair, you see,
is too delicate
for me
EL SEBBO
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but we sure wish there was
EL SEBBO
Filed under: art, bad haiku, bad poetry, birthday poems, breakfast poems, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, seb, snuff poems, tarot poems
27 February 2008 • 6:28 am
I shot
the box
of Rice Krispies
stabbed the
Fruit Loops
and strangled
with bare hands
the Raisin Bran
Now
there’s nothing left
for tomorrow’s breakfast
(D. James)
Filed under: art, breakfast poems, d. james, literature, overweight champions, poem, poetry, writing