A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

Try the RANDOM button, to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.

*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.

but aren't they all random?

Thursday, April 14, 2016

step zero

sick of the whining,
sometimes? I am,
but at least no one
hears it and it keeps one
amused, with nothing better
to do and really, it's good
exercise working out the same
complaints, complaint really, over
and over. Like twelve steps,
except I never get past
one. You

Whenever I think
I have nothing left,
I think of you


Resonating Sound said...

Are you reading the thoughts in my head? Because I keep feeling major agreement with your stuff lately.

dogimo said...

No! I have never been able to read thoughts in anyone's head. I don't believe anyone is able to do that.

It would be horrifying if I believed it were possible. Monstrous. I don't, though, so it's just sort of interesting and unthreatening, like the implications of a sci-fi or magical superpower. I don't mind fiction of that sort.

Oddly enough, I seem to have some success reading souls, but that takes eye contact.

dogimo said...

But a thought just occurred to me: maybe we're both just kind of coincidentally bitter and becoming wry about it, having grown bored and dissatisfied with the dulled jangle of the worn nerves and tarnished heartstrings upon which our respective negative angels harp.


You know, if in the future we rely on this "Please click here to prove you're not a robot" security protocol, we're probably fucked in the event of any considerable robot uprising.