Uncertainty

Poetry or prose?  Nobody knows.  Do you sometimes want to write everything in riddles?  Language is a game.  Writing is like playing solitaire with seven-eighths of a deck.  The cards you cannot reveal might be the most important.  But, it depends on your point of view, or what it is you are trying to achieve in playing the game.  Maybe you are building a house.  It could be that you are practicing a magic trick.  We just don't know.  Please will you tell us though?

number sine pome at sine Steussie

#pomes ar dum
excep teh juans i mek
sais all le franch
an tou les poemetieres
@Steussie

web pepole for space plankton

Web people Live in a web But those who Pull the strings Clip their little wings And suck their juices

Grandma

First, a singular spirit who
Comes to us now and then
Goes without saying
Goodbye

The second, now lonely and
Briefly, a magistrate,
Spied from a disc
In the sky

Here Jill, a fine girl
There Jack, a young cad
Elsewhere, a place or
A thing?

We souls who are searching for
Meaning may find it
In our own
Desiring

Transormerz

Thirteen is a number
and this number thirteen
is a number that only goes into
thirteen
the same number thirteen
some think unlucky
but there is no luck
and therefore no unluck
unless all is unluck
and then all is
thirteen
the same number thirteen
a mistake by the baker
who rolled too much dough
and has too many buns
so now we have plenty
to eat with thirteen
and some think it lucky
but really
thirteen
all these thirteens
are best described as
at optimum
prime

Prescription

You say the pain is back
behind your face
between your ears?
Place one plump blueberry
in your mouth and roll it around
on your tongue
then catch it between cuspids
don't crush it
just the weight of a nibble
tantalizingly incomplete
enough to release a dribble
of sweet juice that settles
sublingually
then move the ripe berry
between tongue and hard palate
and suck it dry.
Call me
in the morning.

Opitulation

Two eyes, afloat
Sloshing about on a bus
Buoyant on the tide of
Watery ooze -that is to say,
Humanity -and hard, angular minerals-
More or less concretely,
The traffic.

Perception arrives
A giddy trampolinist
Out of breath, bounced and bent
Into shapes and colours
By the message from
The stars.