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. 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?

The Devils Playground

A place of light and color and ice cream truck music, where all the slides had flowers, and all the swings had rabbits to help push, and the smell of summer was in my eyes, in my face and hair. … Continue reading

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Dancing On the Head of a Pin

I keep my feet moving,  fast, fast, in fervent hope that it will keep my mind stepping in place, in unison, that I can prevent that slide, that clumsy slipping toward the edge. The head of this pin has little … Continue reading

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Over The Hills And Beyond

    I stare at the sky and keep watch as the stars disappear, so I know that I’m in the right place, the oblivion I crave, lies just over the hills, and beyond, beyond. The shouts of the world … Continue reading

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The War of Glass Animals

  The squares are filled and in line we wait, soft bellied mannequins, secure in our appointed space, our borders. Who will be the first to cross? What paint, what slogan will rise like a balloon and clutch the senses, … Continue reading

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Strange Days

Strange Days ~   A stranger tells you that you are made of strange days, that those children fair and full of grace are not related, are not for you. And before you can reply angrily, or with supreme indifference … Continue reading

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Originally posted on Chimera Poetry:
? “Audaces fortuna iuvat.” “Fortune favors the bold.” ~ Virgil “Virtue has a veil, vice a mask”. ~ Victor Hugo ? Costumed in red and yellow they scamper through the streets and knuckle the doors…

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House of Mirrors

Another day in this house of mirrors, the hallways heave with amusement as your eyes are foiled once more… A trick of the light? A trick of the trade? A mind playing tricks? Turn here, not there, here… No cheese … Continue reading

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