I am a Storyteller, first and foremost. This is my blog for poetry, prose, stories, excerpts of my novels and videos. Life poetry, prophetic poetry, poetry for all genres. I think you'll find yourself here if you read long enough.
Like Puddles On An Asphalt Street
Round and round this life, it goes
And where it stops, the Good Lord knows
Like puddles on an asphalt street
The silver water cool and sweet
Each tear that falls is gathered up
And safely stored inside His cup
And poured upon the soul's parched land
Where roses spring forth from His hands
Tears turn to rivers and then to tides
Of mighty oceans far and wide
And then are used to wash us clean
From the deaths of our old dreams
Down comes the rain made of our tears
And down the drain go all our fears
Round and round this life, it goes
And where it stops, the Good Lord knows.
©by Voo
Aug 5, 2006
The rat lay there in the trap
His beady little eyes imploring me
To let him go, his tiny tail twitching
His minuscule heart beating so hard the trap jumped.
Never mind that he had eaten all the cheese
And the chocolate and the cream
Never mind that he had gnawed my silk dress
And the dyed to match shoes that went with it.
For months he had terrorized the cat
Driven the dog into fits of anguish
Jumped over ottomans and eaten through walls
Undoing all the interior decorating.
I stood there staring at him in my victory
Remembering all the rat poison that he had left
In my best crystal bowls, in my coffee cups
Little revengeful surprises moved from under the sink.
He really was amazing, I gave him that
So resourceful in his will to survive and torment
Damn your rodent hide! I finally said and lifted him by the tail
Walked over to the house next door and threw him in the window.
July 15, 07
"And stay gone, ya lil creep, unless
you want to be Rat Ravioli!!!"
