Iffy Surreal Wordplay

If chaos wins its way with we
tomorrow’s chatter chimes,
resubmerging symphonies
might drown before our eyes.
And everything that ever was
will never be the same,
except the pounding sound of drums
that rage against the rain.

~bw

Fractured

As if boons were bruises
Keep watching dreams peel delusions
With fists like the gnashing teeth of beasts
Brimming with fairy tale ferocity
Flashing chunks of revenge
Through this story of
So many women
Who keep eating bananas
When all they really want
Is cheese
Lost in the blanks of emptiness
This space between breaths
Brimming with fairy tale ferocity
Flashing once upon a fractured time
Where little peas of Gorgonzola
Dig into their back

As if boons were bruises

Brenda Warren 2017

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Nursurreal Rhyme

The cruelest months go by each day
they wander with a restless sway
unaware of falling mirth
and sinkholes opening in Earth.

Chinchillas chin chinning with big wolves blow inning
while spoons run circles through sky.
Passersby passing windows entrancing
and catching the little dog’s eye.
Swing deep round the sun with chariots undone
like broken chair yellow hair girls.
Jump over the moon where candlesticks swoon
and Little Bo makes not a peep.

Frickers frick fracking a diller a dollar
a scholar stays up to count sheep.
Dance to the fiddle of monkeys with riddles
while baby bear’s broken chair weeps.
Little Miss Muffet her spider beside her
responds to her followers tweets.
Hickory dickery walnut and chicory
bake those birds up in a pie.

The cruelest months go by each day
they wander with a restless sway
unaware of falling mirth
and sinkholes opening in Earth.

Brenda Warren 2016

Notes: The prompt at NaPo today asked us to write about the cruelest month. I thought for awhile, and couldn’t come up with one. And so began this stream of consciousness that flowed quickly from my fingers. A bunch of nonsense with some nuggets of sense, I think.

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