September 29, 2011


Red loved to chase rabbits
on hot summer days
he never caught any
but that didn't seem to matter
he’d just run after them barking joyously
purplish tongue hanging out of his mouth as he loped
through the golden wheat fields
he would follow his boy down to the creek
where they would swim and splash and laugh and bark
afterward the exhausted pair would lie
side by side on the muddy bank of the creek
listening to the cicadas
the dog panting contentedly
the boy chewing on a stalk of long grass
one arm shielding his eyes from the afternoon sun
the other draped over his best friend

copyright © 2011 Kevin Routh

Written for the Poets United Thursday Think Tank prompt - Red

September 28, 2011

children of the night

dusk says its goodbyes
the evening breeze sighs
songbirds are crooning sweet lullabies

the moon is reborn
it guards us 'til morn
no more need to feel lost or forlorn

a wondrous sight
our wings stretched in flight
we dance with the stars in pale moonlight

over valleys and streams
our endless horde streams
feeding and flying 'neath silver moonbeams

soft morning intrudes
on our brief interlude
our midnight ballet must now conclude

copyright © 2011 Kevin Routh

September 20, 2011

my son

yesterday i held you
as the nurse placed you in my arms
amazed by your beauty
my heart sang a song of joy
as you slept

yesterday i watched you
as you took your first steps
amazed by your curiosity
my heart sang a song of joy
as you explored

yesterday i comforted you
as you said goodbye to your pet
amazed by your tenderness
my heart sang a song of joy
as you cried

yesterday i encouraged you
as you read your first book
amazed by your intelligence
my heart sang a song of joy
as you learned

yesterday i tickled you
as we wrestled on the floor
amazed by your silliness
my heart sang a song of joy
as you laughed

today i try to hold on to you
as you go out into the world
amazed by your independence
my heart sings a song of joy
as you leave


copyright © 2011 Kevin Routh

September 17, 2011

the grouch

the grouch gazed out his window one day
rainbows and sunshine and rabbits at play
green was the ground and blue was the sky
and dancing on the wind was a butter-utter-fly
the squirrely-squirrels laughed and played in the trees
the flowers were abuzz with buzz-buzzy bees
the birds sang their songs
the ants marched along
and the grouch just complained all day long

“rainbows make me dizzy”
“sunshine makes me burn”
“the butter-utter-flies never listen”
“the squirrely-squirrels never learn”
“green grass makes me itchy”
“blue skies give me chills”
“buzz-buzzy bees like to sting me”
“and bird songs make me ill”

“excuse me,” a voice said, tiny and small
“that’s really not how you should be acting – at all”
the grouch looked down at his window sill
and there sat a lady-ady bug, “hi, my name is jill”
“you shouldn’t be grouchy because of these things”
“they’re all just part of the joy that life brings”
“come out and play with me – come out and have fun”
“come run, dance and sing before summer is done”

the grouch was silent for a minute or ten
he stood there and stared at the lady-ady bug - then
the grouch closed his windows
the curtains he pulled shut
there was no sign of movement
from his grouchy-ouchy hut

jill lowered her head and let out a sigh
a tiny little tear fell from her tiny little eye
“poor mr grouch – i wish he could see”
“what a great summer day like this really means to me”

“the rainbows are so pretty”
“the sunshine is so bright”
“butter-utter-flies make me giggle”
“and squirrely-squirrels are a sight”
“the green grass is so nice and cool”
“the blue skies make me happy”
“the buzz-buzzy bees give me delicious honey”
“and the bird songs are so snappy”

then a muffled voice behind her made jill look up with a start
and what she saw then brought joy to her tiny little heart
“excuse me,” the grouch said – a shy smile upon his face
“no one has ever invited me out into this place”
“i sit alone all day long in my grouchy-ouchy house”
“i sit in there in silence – as quiet as a mouse”
“i listen to all the laughter and all the critters play”
“i sit there all by myself every single day”
“but you dear jill have brought my loneliness to an end”
“for you have become - my very first friend”

copyright © 2011 Kevin Routh

September 16, 2011

my creative process

i pick at the memories
scabs and scars
old wounds from old battles
i pick at them until they bleed
all over my pencils and paper
and computer keyboard
the blood pools
into poems

copyright © 2011 Kevin Routh

September 15, 2011

despite all my rage...

this glass house surrounds me
holds me captive
as i walk
from wall to wall
pacing back and forth
frantically searching
for an exit
for an escape

the others
drink from sterile metal teats
eat sterile processed food
occasionally scrabbling up
to blindly run on a wheel
that goes nowhere
blissfully unaware
that they are also incarcerated in this glass prison
they are idiots and i despise them

copyright © 2011 Kevin Routh

Written for The Thursday Think Tank prompt - Glass Houses

September 13, 2011


the world turns white
the explosion is blinding
i cannot hear the screams above the ringing in my ears
rubble, carnage and chaos surround me
i try to stand but my devastated body stops me
the world turns red
the blood pours freely from my wounds
soaking into the jungle floor
a medic lies and says i’ll be okay
as his hands work feverishly
trying to stop the blood
the world turns gray
ten minutes ago we were listening to the radio
singing along and laughing
no worries except what we were going to have for dinner
now i am ruined
i try to call out to my mother
but no sound comes
the world turns black

copyright © 2011 Kevin Routh

September 7, 2011

the zombies

the zombies stumble and run
business suits ripped and bloody
as ashy gray death pursues them
swallowing them
the once familiar landscape

the zombies stumble and run
by confusion and terror
screams are drowned
by the cacophonous roar
as the second tower
falls to its death
murdered by hate

the zombies stumble and run
emerging from the ashes
unable to comprehend
the truth
the shock numbing them
from the reality
from the horror

copyright © 2011 Kevin Routh
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