Snake's Poetry » Poems

Barriers

Deborah — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 14:16:19 +0000

A Film-Poem

Deborah — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 14:01:14 +0000

Short Stories

Deborah — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 20:30:26 +0000

Come read some of Snake’s new short stories at Choking On Mice.

Deborah — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 17:16:46 +0000

Talking Back

words hang in the air
like dirty laundry
for everyone to see
twisting and flapping
in the gale of anger
the boy’s mouth daring
with impertinent speech
shocking
what sass back he shot
from a tongue soon unable to fight
the froth of bar soap scrubbing
the whole load into bitter memory
later tainting his retorts and repartee

Deborah — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 15:44:11 +0000

Published Poems

Some summer writing appears in the Loch Raven Review for your reading pleasure.

Deborah — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 13:50:11 +0000

Storm

the goats know it
before it comes
sense it in the radar of their horns
aimed skyward
probing the atmosphere
with its advancing
storm;
restless
they buck and kick
then retreat to their shed
dark and watertight
where the lightening light
flashes in the corners
through dusty spider webs; and
when thunder finally falls
they hurl at each other
cracking horns
rattling brains
asserting terrestrial power

Deborah — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 15:09:21 +0000

Fuel for the Fires

consuming oxygen and wood in the
ovens all five of them burning hot
feeding these flames my job
blowing hard with the bellows
to bake bread and what meat to roast for supper
as the boys suffer hunger pains
want apples sauced and
thickened in the pot concentrated
and sweet to break fast this meal
I’ll heap on their plates
yet time passes in the making
and discomfort grows as
they pick up old arguments
shift and wrestle to the floor
with legs kicking tipping the table
tugging hair by the tangle-full howling
faces hot as embers
and the bread finally thumps done to the center
breaks open steaming melting butter
and the boys right the table
take their seats
and cool down

Deborah — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 14:02:33 +0000

Leaving Martha

Im runnin out of time
there’s a whistle blowing
and Im leavin this note
before I go and dont mark me down
for spelling or grammer cause Ive
had it up to here with your corrections
these years after me both sides
up and down with the red pencil in
the margins like I didnt know
any better how
to sort my words to
our problems to better explain
and kept on with the same
crossin the street
blind-eyed just listening see
how well it worked for me
and now I feel the hum
in the tracks
as the freight rumbles low
and I step aside

Earthquake Haiku

Deborah — Fri, 16 May 2008 12:43:17 +0000

children’s backpacks
saved in rows and columns
on broken concrete

Deborah — Sat, 10 May 2008 17:59:12 +0000

Scrapbook

between the leather doors of the
memory book
I house your life paste you
in with your famous bubble quotes
those light bulbs flashing over your head
illuminating years of pages
and decorate the rooms
with patterned scissor cuts
around the borders in bold
triangle and square colors
tape in flowing blue and red ribbons
ABC+s and
a curl of hair
the paper on the walls embossed
with floral patterns recalls
the garden where you sipped mint tulips
at your first tea party