i chase the thought bubble
down myriad streets
sunlit noise and slow traffic
what does the reply teach?
i shove the day around
pushing an abstract idea
invisible writer
inhales truth
exhales fiction
i observe his hand-drawn trash cans
draw new door
step through it
paint appealing window
ecstatic writer
drives her own traffic
without a car
caged bird climbs a ladder
by mary ann blinkhorn
she stares at a midnight page
frankness, beginning and end
the cure, a changing heart
i am not art
but I know her
resting on park bench
she contemplates lateral thinking
how they had smirked
at her “what ifs”
she tries to wrap her mind around it
the idea that ink found new home in nice-looking flowery jacket
with half-crazed sunny-faced owner
thoughts dismissed
time to write new page
by mary ann blinkhorn
I delight in the strange wisecrack
the faded Knighty
the lost rain check
a fool’s advance
I delight in
the error, the peace
and the quirk
by mary ann blinkhorn
she completes the poem,
LIFE, LOVE AND STUPIDITY
her ink-filled yawn
disguising a cross face
ah, solitude
by mary ann blinkhorn
days later
I am still asleep
walking parallel to
every thought left unspoken
there’s a certain power in that
no parts lost in translation
by mary ann blinkhorn
hollered phrase
comforted by a whisper
let it ride
through hollow ancient times
bypassing today’s onlookers
caressed by tomorrow’s sunflower
its yellow reminder
that without love
it really doesn’t matter
by mary ann blinkhorn
i should have stayed down
fingering scraps
on tilted floor
singing songs
but instead i stood up
smashed
my
cranium
on
yesterday’s
treetop
oh all the stars …
watched them fade in
break into zillions of pieces
fade out
rise again
just as i must do
by mary ann blinkhorn
state-of-the-art
state of the artist
state of the art
state of the artist
……………….
knock out a wall
go out in the sunlight
stroll along in the moonlight
there are no wall-climbing solutions
………………………………
think, breathe, speak, create, laugh
gasp for air and rejoice in it
sing your song in giant measures
tap your fingers on ordinary walls
those that form positive structure and don’t crumble
……………………………………………..
and as for those bitter parentheticals
lose them
by mary ann blinkhorn
there comes a day
when each of us must
cast away
our newly written sad love poems
penned in comfortable loafers
present them to the wind
seize the day
choose to put on
the black, shiny, stretchable dress shoes
tight, polished, pointed and priceless
by mary ann blinkhorn
turning it around
can produce
the greatest laughter
it can ef ef one
down a different path
skipping all the way
by mary ann blinkhorn
(ef ef equals fast forward)
mypenandme 
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