Poet's Home             All Poetry       Sign Up!  Login
© 2000-2019 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors.   309731 Poems Read.

Search for Poetry


Read Poetry
Hope Is Sometimes The Best Of All You've Got (definition poem)

Enough to Clear The Clouds Away 4/13/2019


Checking Out

Home, Ghuey, Sweet Home

Someone Send Out A Search Party

Crows...writing exercise in honor of April /National Poetry month


Only The Choice To Be

When People Go

The Day You Left (Words From A Half-Remembered Dream)

Wake Wake Wake

It Is In The Rain

Dream Goblins Of The Night

Wake And Remember

Unwelcomed Like So Much Unfinished Business

In March (Finally, Spring 2016)

All For Algernon

Weak In The Knees

The Finisher's Song

Nothing's Sadder Than A Rose

All Beings Considered

This Is It

Max on the max

I Long For Stars

Falling Leaf, Falling Man/Woman, Rising Star

So You Do (May 10, 2010 written for June 1987)

Its About Waking In The Middle Of The Night And Having To Write It All Down

Not For The Bloom of Tears Cultivated These Last 100 Years

If This Is Any Art For Which You Care

If I Could Be The Sky...

It Feels Better To Be Unfinished (Wish-Unspoken, But With My Eyes)

More Poetry >>


  Sign Guestbook

Read Guestbook


Potato Chip

"potato chip"

words tele-typing in my head
was I
awake or dreaming

I heard long nails
digging into
into my scalp

my third floor window?

its four a.m.
I peer out
onto a shrouded fog-filled world
my eyes adjusting

my heart twists in my chest
audible thudding in my ears

my mind plays tricks on me

I hear a thin wiry whisper of
"hello, potato chip"

my heart flips in my chest
like a fragile tell-tale chip
in a rustling metallic bag

out on a reedy branch balancing
not ten feet in front of me
Its red-eyed stare
bores into me

knows my name

I've a sense of one long
toothy gaping grin
a deep cavernous hunger
slobbering within

"potato chip"

words roared
as It lunges forward
dismounting from a bending branch
with the eerie twitching energy
of a spasticly-coiled hobgoblin

how easily double-paned glass
as Its
jaws imbed themselves
in my ...

Copyright November 8, 2015 All Rights are Reserved By This Author/Writer
All ideas/poetry/prose/rants are the expressed legal property of this writer.
Taken from my nightmares and dream-lands.
Meloo/Melissa A Howells straight from her Tilt-a-World

Re-edited on November 11th 2015. The figure in my dream was immense and shaggy
but I did not want to over-burden the poem with adjectives. I think its good to
leave imagination in the mind of the individual reader.


Vote for this poem

Please Comment On This Poem


 Email Address


Vote for this poem