Monday, 26 March 2012

I Am


I am a fat worm plucked from the front lawn by a robin,
then fed to its chirping chicks.
I am the whiskers of the cat
who sits grooming himself on the fence post,
patiently waiting for a fledging
to fall out of its nest.

I am the fine mist of dew

that drapes the earth at dusk
I am the loon's cry rippling across the lake,
and a cricket, readying myself to perform
the night's symphony.

I am the rustle of veils pushed aside,

the uncertainties that crumble in the dark,
and all the inhibitions tossed at the foot of a bed.
I am the perspiration beneath a pendulous breast,
the softness of human touch,
and the moan that gets caught in your throat.

I am the flight of the 10 o'clock plane

that flies over my house every night,
always en route to a different destination.

I am the feeling that lingers

when you wake from a dream,
the uncertainty that tugs at your brain.
I am the coffee cup held tight in the morning,
the cream that swirls its way
to the bottom when stirred,

I am the aftertaste in your mouth.

I mmm...I am

This is  a poem by a woman from Quebec Canada.

Saturday, 24 March 2012


Wednesday, March 7, 2012


Deviant behavior starts at a young age
when bullies begin reacting with rage.

A minuscule flea sets despots off
so trivial and trite the peers scoff.

It grows and it festers this irritation they get
taking out on others without regret.

If not nipped in the bud truants they'll be
or grown-ups excluding people like me.

 @laurie kolp