Chicken Trouble

There lived a man in Timbuktu 
who made himself some chicken stew.

the hardly alive chicken broke out from the cooking pot
clucking , she flew at him steaming hot

she was a cocky chick, she flew the coop
the poor man’s dinner plans she blew

he lost his appetite and his stew
he only had coffee left to brew.


As I lay bleeding from inside, they walk all over me 
Their footprints locked in my blood’s captivity .

My hands are empty, I have lost all my words
The pages in my book whisper, their screams go unheard.

I can no longer see or feel my dreams
still, my dreams reach out to me , give me self esteem.

Dreams taken from me, lost along the way
I still feel them, I know they won’t betray.

I cling to my quill and feel it’s comfort
when I scribe, my thoughts are comfortably versed.

I will not let the ink dry on my soul
my subconscious hope will always console.

Stargazing – A Pleiades

Sweeping me off my feet
Starry eyed, I gaze at the
Sojourn of lustrous stars
Surfing the empyrean
Saturating air with stardust
Streaking the celestial
Scintillating the nova

Spectacle galactic
Spinning inky aether
Spellbinding gravity
Stringing the Big Dipper
Shimmering Milky Way
Stunning, dazzling me as
Shooting stars wish me well.

# Pleiades