Poem: Multiply

Plot bunnies,
they call them.
Little, annoying creatures that hop
and hop
and hop and
don’t stop until you write them down.

Plot bunnies are more
vicious than they sound.
A shark is still shark, even by any other name,
and plot bunnies aren’t cute and cuddly
like their namesake (but
they do eat a lot of grass).

In fact,
by this point in time,
I’d say my mind has a bunny infestation,
and that the plot bunnies are eating
all the grass – the grass I need to
fuel my other thoughts,
the important thoughts,
the thoughts that
have an actual affect
on my actual life.

Plot bunnies are more vicious than they sound,
after all.
They are kind of like babies
or toddlers, I guess
(I wouldn’t know),
since they have a tendency
of keeping me awake at night
for no good reason.

But with all this talk about plot bunnies
not being like bunnies (except
for their appetite for grass)
I don’t think there’s a
better animal for ideas
to be

except for one that

is known, infamous even,

for multiplying

Acrophobia (Poem)

We all experience things
In our own little ways
But we don’t stop to realize
That our own ways are only our ways

We are all running a race
And we all have a starting point
But we never consider if
It’s not always the same starting point

We all do things
Somethings with ease
But do we ever wonder if
Others do the same with less ease?

Sometimes what life is to you
Isn’t what it is to me
And that what seems like a joy ride
Can be terrifying to me

So just because you can run
Across the tight rope without fear
Doesn’t mean you can
Shake my rope and laugh at me

And just because what scares me
Doesn’t ever phase you
Doesn’t mean that I’m not
Just as brave as you

So the next time I go
To an amusement park with you
Don’t think I’m not brave
If I don’t ride all the rides you do

Maybe you can stop and think
That maybe you’re different than me
And that what a roller coaster feels to you
Is what a Ferris Wheel feels to me

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The Palace of Snow

A crunch sounded with every step

As he crushed the snow beneath his feet

He zipped his jacket up to the top

How he longed for a little heat

 

The sun reflected off the snow

It was as bright as it was cold

The wind howled as it brought up snow

A sight prettier than gold

 

There were no signs to show the way

He only knew to go north

Past the field, through the trees

To a place of great worth

 

A priceless palace

Standing proud above the trees

With silver doors and bronze floor

With locks of crystal and diamond keys

 

He kept walking through the snowy grass

The walk was challenging and long

The field was empty aside from him

No mice or birds, not a squeak or birdsong

 

The field turned into forest quicker than light

With fallen trees glistening with snow

And bare trees with branches covered in ice

The forest appeared to be aglow

 

The sun and snow glared with sunlight

As the man continued on

Across a bridge over a frozen creek

He wondered where the fish had gone

 

Silent except for the crunch of snow

And the freezing wind’s howl

The forest smelled like snow and moss

It was all good, nothing foul

 

He knew he was nearing the palace

When the snow turned to stone

A path bordered by frozen water

A path hardly known

 

Ice covered all but the path

So the man did not slide

But the stone wasn’t smooth

Its care long denied

 

The man tripped once or twice

But he did not fall

He kept his eyes on the horizon

Watching for the opal wall

 

Soon he arrived at the entrance

To a cracked wall and smashed door

He made his way on half of a bridge

And onto a beaten floor

 

And he arrived at the palace

Described by legends sung long ago

And he made camp at the ruins

The ruins of the palace of snow