Wednesday
At my window drinking coffee,
saw a face move through the trees.
All lit up as it passed through leaves,
it returned to me - a second thought,
much like sunlight hits the mountain
every morning at first light.
poem by Rick Stokes
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Moon
I'm a frozen river.
Moon, the heavenly
body is leaving now,
taking off her clothes.
Now I'm melting, cracking,
breaking up inside, and swelling
into rapids over rocks and leaning trees.
Once again it's morning here at
Crazy Woman Creek.
poem by Rick Stokes
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Trees & Other Stuff
Trees shape a welcome
to sound waves of thunder, an
escort of cool rain.
~ ~ ~
An ankle-length robe
of pink clouds, a spider web
veil of silver pearls.
~ ~ ~
Red Bull with prune juice
is my choice to chill down, and
run smoothly through life.
poem by Rick Stokes
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Lectric Daze Buzz
I sit here in smoke in the
Realm of the Wallow where
green sky has frogs and the
birds that dive down from
the cliffs and the trees in a
valley where dogs chase the
lizards all day and kids hear the
songs of a red ice cream monkey
that sometimes turns blue.
poem by Rick Stokes
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Leaves In The Wind
I'm no longer at the top of my mind.
'…only the best that he can be.'
I bumped my head. I'm getting old.
No longer sharp. My humor's flat.
But that's ok. I'll play my hand.
I'll win this game;
that's even if the game and score
are merely settings in my mind.
poem by Rick Stokes
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Large
The quiet man exploded
like a termite full of
poison through the air
and on the table with
used napkins and a
quarter for a tip to
go to waitress who
had served the man a
tuna on a bread with
mayo sandwich and a
coffee and a jalapeno
chopped and mixed
with beans.
poem by Rick Stokes
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What I Call It
I had a brain injury.
I have a brain injury.
I injured my brain.
There.
I said it four times.
Wrote poem once about
a moth flew round light
in circles till dead.
It
flies through my mind still,
time after time.
Afraid.
What I've lost.
Not quite the same.
Does it matter?
Don't think.
poem by Rick Stokes
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To which
the defendant responded,
'The raisin that flew through the
clouds said the reason the mountain
fell down was the moonlight tried climbing
a desk with no coffee to...'
Answer the question,
please.
State yes or no.
'The tulip that flew through the
soup said the reason the dog house
fell down...'
poem by Rick Stokes
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With Love
You fly to me, moth on silver wing,
to light on my mind and stare within.
You slip off your veil of glacial ice,
and gather me unto your fiery breasts.
Your electric tongue, like a snake out of hell,
enters my eyes and licks my brain.
Sulfuric acid drips from your smile
as you swallow me deep within.
poem by Rick Stokes
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Alison
Broken rain clouds,
pink like her lips
full wet, and
blue sky with
tunes out the back of her pickup
in the wind and the rain clouds
are moving cross reasons to leave.
Turning ‘round, lookin' back
as the wind scares the birds
through the air like shed tears,
her foot on the throttle
leaves a long muddy trail.
poem by Rick Stokes
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