Author Archives: chimerapoet

About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?

2018 or Happy New Year….running a little late.

New Year! New Me!   Hahahahaaa…gotcha. Nope, just the old me with new socks…   Ahh well I am a little more honest in my resolutions nowadays….I mean (eyes wide open) What could I possibly improve on?     Humility … Continue reading

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Tantalus

It’s right there….there. My hands could clutch it and I could run run run wildly, not looking behind because, as everyone knows, that’s when you fall, that’s when the monsters get you… unless you are the monster. So close I … Continue reading

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Alone in the Room

  Look at me! they cry waving to the music and the laughter… Me?  I’m alone in a room. The party is always in another place, the welcome mat is never outside of my door. My mailbox is empty, and … Continue reading

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A Jolly Good Fellow

For he’s a jolly good fellow…   Everyone knows he’s a great guy, it’s just his humor, you’re too sensitive you’re too emotional and why were you there then, why were you wearing that and what did you think would … Continue reading

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The Word Peddler

    I once was blind but now I see,  through the braille of my words and a strangers hand.  Am I a busker or do I just sing to myself in that space between me and them? Where does … Continue reading

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I owe you….

I owe you a blog post. Or two…. And some poems.  I have approximately 70002 half done ones (no exaggeration…well…maybe a little) some of which I will share with you Gentle Readers as soon as they are finished and others … Continue reading

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The Book Peddler

  The old man always sat in the same place, a not-quite-corner,  behind a table propped up on one side by a broken half brick. He sat there in the sun,  seamed face turned up to absorb it,  scattered teeth … Continue reading

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