(For National Poetry Month I write a daily stream-of-conscious poem. Spontaneous single edit – it will be ugly! Poem #25.)

it is gut wrenching
that she’s crushed
while taking a stroll
on a quiet boulevard
in the sunshine

the car jumped the curb
and struck the 43-year-old
as she walked

she leaves a husband
and two young sons

and a collapsing
black hole in the
wake of her star.

https://www.therecord.com/news-story/9300519-pedestrian-struck-by-car-in-front-of-waterloo-school/

(For National Poetry Month I write a daily stream-of-conscious poem. Spontaneous single edit – it will be ugly! Poem #24.)

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah lost blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah poet blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah word blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

(For National Poetry Month I write a daily stream-of-conscious poem. Spontaneous single edit – it will be ugly! Poem #23.)

scorpio ascending
in the house of taurus
fool inverted dangling
high above dear empress

what can it surely mean?
please pray and do foretell
read the omens loud for me
as clearly i’ve gone blind

a tailless silver comet
arcs across the starry sky
see the moon-man laughing
at the ones like you and i

oh dear oh my oh fie
there is no hope inside
the broken mystic box
from which demons do arise

the sun is long faded
night is all we have
let the darkness take us
there is no more ever more.

(For National Poetry Month I write a daily stream-of-conscious poem. Spontaneous single edit – it will be ugly! Poem #22.)

you were the one
parabolic
amplitude
moonrise falling
two by two
cumulonimbus
stratified
just like dreams
rarefied

courtesy now
then take a bow
spin my head
then lead me on

you were the one
we wanted how
spilling out
our secrets
in the snow
we forgive
and forget
dance again

corner sitter
out of sight
oh how i sighed
through the night

you are the one
wouldn’t stay
slipped away
no time to play
left us broken
all the way
laughing loud
another madman
in the crowd

inky dinky spider
climbed up the water spout
ashes ashes
we all fall down.

you were the one
i was the one
it was never real.

(For National Poetry Month I write a daily stream-of-conscious poem. Spontaneous single edit – it will be ugly! Poem #21.)

easter sunrise obscured by cloud
we stumble through the gray light
searching for hidden meaning and treats

easter rabbit droppings wrapped in foil
chocolate both dark and bittersweet

do you remember how we fought
to claim the hollow rooster as our prize?
somehow thinking it was grander
and would last longer than solid rabbit

you being bigger won by size
leaving me crying at the loss
no matter how father tried to
explain the rabbit weighed more
it simply wasn’t enough

broken eggshells on the floor
coloured rainbow fragments every where
Sulphur smell of eggs out too long
in the springtime sunshine

belly aches from too much
sugar and laughter
heart aches from too much of
being the same in different ways

every year arises the same
humans repeating rituals
thoughtlessly.