Ink Flinger

I sit here at the picnic table on the square and let my pen pray As I hold my face to the light, letting the sun warm me, Letting the bright...

In Douglas Adam's classic series The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy , a group of hyper-intelligent, pan-dimensional philosophers ...

Avast, ye scurvy dogs, I say It's National Talk Like a Pirate Day So shout "ARRRR!" with me As we head out to sea To converse ...

Mist clings to the land Under skies of pink and blue-- September sunrise. What's that mewling? Is the car's engine purring? Oh my, a...

The rising sun sketches a bright stripe across the water To mark the path the sun will follow in the coming hours. I turn the other way and ...

Lying in the darkness, I stare at my watch in surprise; Surely it is time to rise, But no, it's not even tomorrow yet! Of course, it nev...

I don't feel like writing poetry today; I'd rather pack my bags and drive away To some distant place that I've never seen Where ...

Crooked little dreams-- Jagged edges poke and prod, Ending sleep before Consciousness arrives. Morning maybe, but Good ended after last nigh...

Early morning mist is lifting Slowly, softly, clearing, drifting Over the trees and cooing doves Into the pale blue sky above. The air is st...

Funnel cakes, lemon Shake-ups--summer flavors sour'd By flat Elvis songs