Thursday, 23 January 2025

Three Poems by Mike Wilson

 






Rumi the Grammarian 

 

   

What if Truth kills me with a period 

at the end of my sentence of sound and fury 

or with an ellipsis signifying nothing? 

 

Billionaires have lots and lots of commas 

but what are run-on sentences running from? 

                                                     

Though God exists, it seems that I’m 

a Snapchat of envious reflection  

trying to escape the surface of a mirror. 

  

Subjects, verbs, and objects – 

could they be a shaggy dog story? 

 

Each of us might be Wile E. Coyote 

suspended over the ebony canyon, dangling  

participles in search of a Proper Noun 

 

 

 

 

Rumi’s Dog 

 

 

Life’s a chew toy God throws and I chase. 

The Deity runs me all over the place! 

I wind down time and check out space 

but wherever, whenever, there’s only one Face! 

 

 

 

 

Easy-Peasy 

 

 

Rumi asks, Why abstain from love? 

A miser’s fist clenches emptiness. 

Love is the horn of plenty. 

 

Love is complete without an opposite. 

Love gains from losing, thrives in dying, 

inside the true dream.  

 

Love needs no introduction,  

requires no explanation. 

Love is its own reason for being.










Mike Wilson’s work has appeared in many magazines and in Mike’s book, Arranging Deck Chairs on the Titanic. His awards include the League of Minnesota Poets Award, the Maine Poets Society Award, and the Chaffin/Kash Prize of the Kentucky State Poetry Society. He lives in Lexington, Kentucky, USA.



1 comment:

  1. I especially like the first poem, the excellent word play that you are so good at!

    ReplyDelete

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