spontaneous/sonnets

In keeping with my current status: Retired. Ceasing to play the game. Quiet. No rules. No timeframe. Just 14 lines. Some structure but as little as possible. Simple. Clean. Evolving. Named for a Jack Kerouac poem.

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Wednesday, December 31, 2025

#115

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Who wants to follow that? When my children were little  one of them would disappear  by covering their face with their hands The logi...
Tuesday, December 30, 2025

#114

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Another left handed glove has gotten off of the Marky train. This is the problem with gloves: I have a pile of righties on my workbench; ...
1 comment:

#113

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Outside a star the one that reminds me of you on cold winter nights like this. The one that guided you   through years of wandering until yo...
Sunday, November 24, 2024

#112

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#112  Yesterday I was sad. Today I’m just mad. Pissed off actually! How dare you?! We had it all and  you listened to that cult leader… Sacr...
Monday, June 17, 2024

#111

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My brain,  is a three on the tree. A six banger with a thrown rod. My thoughts,  vacuum based speed up and slow down as my foot plays with t...
Wednesday, February 28, 2024

#110

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Elvis called today He said he saw me at the window watching the clouds in the desert. I was dreaming and he was driving when Joseph Stalin w...
Thursday, January 11, 2024

#109

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  May the Psychopomps find you on the bedpost before you lose your flavor: Oh my dearest Elvis,  Keeper of my youthful hopes…        ...
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©️Mark W. Ó Brien
Mark W. Ó Brien has been widely published at home and abroad. He is an alumnus of the Blackwater International Poetry Festival. His fourth collection of poetry entitled "My Childhood Appropriated." is available from Foothills Publishing. http://www.foothillspublishing.com/2019/obrien.html
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