Posts Tagged ‘horror’

Birthday Battle

Posted: August 27, 2019 in Poetry
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69226727_10156770162608403_8762103149243662336_n.jpg

 
BIRTHDAY BATTLE
By David Allen

Sand falls,
Watch hands beckon,
A shadow creeps.
Time is skewering us all
To the wall
To the wall, scribes!
Man the ramparts!
Sound the alarm!
Pelt time with your poems!
Punish time with your puns!
Rout time with your rhymes!
Push back the years!
Stop time!
 
Aaiiiiiieeeee!!!!
 
It’s no use!
Fall back! Fall back!
Time has become an Ivy Leaguer
A longhaired Master of the Art
Of ruining good poems.
Hair grays.
Eyes, myopic, bag.
Arches fall,
Posture slouches.
Oh, the horror, the horror!
The …

(Ah, forget about it,
It’s just another year.
Where’s the cake?)

 
NOTE: This was aritten for Jenny Kalahar, a great poet novelist, writer, rare bookseller, and leader of the Last Stanza Poetry Association. She’s a wonder.

Winding Way

Posted: October 28, 2016 in Poetry
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winding-way

WINDING WAY
By David Allen

There’s a street in town
called Winding Way
that I swear was designed by fiends.
I turned onto it once to find a yard sale
and spent hours lost in a puzzling scene.
No matter the way, straight, left or right,
I passed the same playgrounds, houses and lots.
And when I turned onto a side street ,
like some horror book plot,
it dumped me back on Winding Way.

Confused and dazed, I thought
this was some awful dream.
This is what Hades must be like.
Searching to find some value in life,
I was just spinning my wheels
My whole life was a Winding Way.

But finally, like most fruitless quests,
this one did come to an end.
And I was able to wend my way out
onto a main road, where my growling gut told
me I’d best stop for some food and a drink.
I found a drive-in, but had to skip it when
I read the sign on the “Steak City” board
advertisimg burgers and something called “Phyllis.”

Was this some misspelling for a Philly Steak?
Or was it something more chilling?
Had some poor Phyllis died
On her Winding Way drive
And her body cooked up by some villain?
I didn’t dare ask, and instead just passed
What surely must be the village’s cannibal diner.

 

phyllis-steak

SCARED

Posted: October 25, 2014 in Poetry
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

pumpkin

SCARED
By David Allen

Want to know what scares me?
Running out of ink when inspiration strikes
Blank paper
Complaining to my wife when she’s off her meds
Being stranded in a doctor’s examination room
Buying gas on the weekend
Forgetting birthdays
Having a birthday
Running out of crossword puzzles in the bathroom
Running out of toilet paper
Getting a phone call from my bank
Getting late night phones call from my children
Going with my wife to a church rummage sale
Stepping on a scale
Looking in a mirror first thing in the morning
Looking at my hair after a nap
Being late for anything
Forgetting a word
Forgetting someone’s name
Balancing my checkbook
Not having a deadline
Shopping for groceries
Winter
Credit scores
Visiting a trailer park during a tornado watch
My wife asking me if new pants make her look fat
Having to run away
My cable TV bill
My cell phone bill
Finding hair on my brush
Pizza from Pizza King
Brussels sprouts
Fruitcakes
Cabbage
A plain bagel
Pea soup
Vegetarians
Highway rotaries
Barber shops
My wife’s silence when I create a pun
My wife’s silence when I crack a joke
My wife’s silence
Silence from the voice in my head
Silence
Lawyers
Doctors
Politicians
Preachers
Armed Teabaggers
Donald Trump’s hair
Insurance salesmen
Anderson, Indiana
V-neck sweaters
Swimming without a shirt
Radical Muslims
Radical Christians
Radical Jews
Radical Hindus
Radical Atheists
Running out of chocolate
Empty bookcases
My garage
My wife’s shoe closet
Riding in a car as a passenger
Funeral parlors
Walmart
GPS voices
Bagpipes
Prescription drug commercials
Emus
Guam’s kamikaze crows
Palm readers
Psychics
Fortune cookies
Goodbyes

Explaining the meaning of my poems