Thursday, November 7, 2013

PAD 7 hardship, Poetic Bloomings Mirror Sestet

Hardship

Fishing for king salmon is what I’m wishing.
Wishing for creatures as big as my boat for fishing.

So I venture forth, in the early morning, I go.
Go out in the ocean ten nautical miles or so.

Ship bears down on me, I hear my boat rip—
rip just like paper. That’s a hard ship!

2 comments:

lpnurse said...

LOL You wrote a hardship poem that was a hard ship poem. :)

lpnurse said...


Prognosticator

Is this real? Can I feel
something bad is on the way?
Will it stop? Can I top
what I was able to do today?

How did I know? Can I show
what the future’s going to be?
What does this mean? Can I glean
fame or fortune from my ability?

Stop asking why. I know who dies
every day before they do.
I didn’t kill them. I can feel them.
Please believe me. You have to.

I’m all alone now. I can’t see how
I’ll ever get out of this pain.
Jailed for life. This kind of strife
would never have happened to Shirley McClain.