Splat (an acrostic poem)

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Shooting ideas onto the whiteboard

Plastering it with colorful words and diagrams

Leaving a chaotic schematic of creativity

And yet this work of art is unfinished

That’s why it is a blessing when it is erased, left waiting for the next time

Haste (an acrostic poem)

He flew down the street way over the speed limit

And drove through the red light accompanied by a chorus of car horns

Soon he had police cars chasing him from behind

That made him laugh with glee.  He loved the attention

Everyone gets their fifteen minutes of fame, but he was shooting for thirty

 

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