Poetry – Tom (WordWulf) Sterner


We know so little

It is ripped from us

devoured, inhaled

in great gulping gasps of living

We only have what we have

of moment & a good part of that

is illusion, not apt to survive

any transition to reality

Grab fistfuls while you may

earth & wheel, bread & wine

Never you mind

the rubber burn blood


Three tons of sunshine

ours to devour & still

we are afraid of the dark

dependent upon tiny light

artificial, sun sensitive

designed to hide its dim watt head

until the red light

or its reflection, the moon

disappears behind a cloud

or spins away to visit

those on the other side of our world


Good goddam, I need a hand

some way out of this spooky-assed room

Monsters under the bed

when I was a child so I went there

groping, searching, alone

Years later I chased them

through alleys & whiskey bars

made music with them

until boogy-assed misty dawn

Twinkle, twinkle, little star

I forgot how to sing


Sparkle, sparkle, little twink

Where the hell you are I think



Inquiries: wordwulf@gmail.com

© 2016 artwork, music & words

conceived by & property of

Tom (WordWulf) Sterner 2016 ©

via Poetry – Tom (WordWulf) Sterner


About wordwulf

wordwulf@gmail.com website: http://wordwulf.com
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