“That’s it!” he yelled to the clouds above
“I quit writing forever!”
And he did
And nobody noticed
EL SEBBO
Author Archives: sdoubinsky
Buddies
You thought I was gone
but you were wrong
My absence lingers
and your back feels
a little warmer
EL SEBBO
The open game
Life
is the imitation
of art
EL SEBBO
Time out
Time flies like a b-1 bomber
slow and dangerous
you can hear its reactors humming
above your head
but you don’t know
where it’s headed
and you don’t care
– at least
you pretend
you don’t
EL SEBBO
Tiny hero
After being shot at all day
having fought hideous monsters
and saved his parents
from numerous dangers
the tiny hero
falls asleep
clutching his teddy-bear
EL SEBBO
Day breaks with a bang
sun in my eyes
my words are empty
your shadow moves on my retina
like a love letter
another day breaks
hope emerges
and I feel like
a cigarette
and a glass of rum
doodledy-dum
time to run
and have some fun
EL SEBBO
Another roadside haiku
a mockingbird hops by
yellow beak and black head
my thoughts stop for a moment
EL SEBBO
The drug against wars
Say no to gods
EL SEBBO
Blue
The sky is mystery
and the sea is a lie
Feelings are inaccurate
and ink is artificial
Yet blue is blue
no matter what
EL SEBBO
Red
The heart is pink
lips are blue
revolutions are lost
red is a liar
EL SEBBO
White
White is the easiest metaphor
EL SEBBO
Umbrella
If writing poetry
is like pissing against the wind
remember that the wind
often changes direction
EL SEBBO
The poet’s consolation
A beautiful car
is nothing
compared to
a good conversation
EL SEBBO
Red
if my words were colored
like heads and then hands
then sometimes they could be
red machine or red lips
but mostly red silence
EL SEBBO
Sphinx
What we could say
is hidden
behind our words
EL SEBBO
Japanese lawnmower
I am mowing the lawn
a blackbird keeps me company
– almost a haiku
EL SEBBO
Precaution
I am wearing shades
because I am afraid
my eyes might exist
EL SEBBO
TRACERS (To R. Rauschenberg)
Robert Rauschenberg has passed away
unfortunately death is not transparent
EL SEBBO
No one transmitting
internet line down for 5 days
stuck here with my own words, munching on my dead
EL SEBBO
Perfection
sun goes down moon comes up
I hold one in each hand
EL SEBBO
Double lines
the apple-tree is blossoming
the songs of the birds again have meaning
EL SEBBO
Periphery
I am writing a poem in my garden
the sun at the periphery of my thoughts
EL SEBBO
Orpheus
closed lips
a possibility of infinite
EL SEBBO
Fall
When things fall
objects happen
EL SEBBO
The limit of poetry
rain
depression
poetry
more rain
