Creepy Sprinkles


It’s so creepy,
how sleepy
the sky’s coat, makes me.
As I struggle at peace,
between portal sounds, dogs barking and planes sprinkling.
Hush the barking dogs!
Before they’re location is found,
like the other’s,
that disappeared,
from protecting, their grounds.
Creepy, What’s that falling?
Oh! Maybe it’s just me hanging my head in sorrow,
watching my heart go unheard, calling from, a neglected,
As all my wishes,
at the stars,
it never reached,
repeating the same apocalyptic, speech,
onto deaf ears,
that remain in a dream.
While cloudy trails,
chemically tagging,
poor air a
hostage, in a sinus hit,
strong arming,
into long forgotten, naps.
Maybe its best to use reversed pyschology
And say,
its nothing to really fear,
I’ll say that, for now,
as I steer completely clear.
Looking for one morning,
to wake,
and not be sprinkled of fairy dust, wanderlust,
or a loud copter,
circling my budoir,
gaining access passes,
through unsealed cracks,
past my home’s security,
to gain Fido’s, trust.
I’ve noticed,
different family dogs missing,
maybe it was disclosed,
in one of the creepy neighborhood meetings.
Working on family pets, getting them out the way.
As our detached homes, start
too appear,
more like a Stepford
free of personal thought’s and gated.
Only sound too hear are of the silver birds,
as I’ve remained inside,
neighbor’s must have secretly,
then, got word.
Hopefully it’s a good day to reach outside,
my comfort zone,
And maybe finally,
have a full signal, too conversate,
on my unprivate phone.
​But I get it.
I’ll just refuse too breathe,
as deeply,
because after the third sprinkle across the sky,
it gets even more creepy.
I heard it’s lochness monster,
before the world,
became fully awake,
too form a tunneled vision,
too trigger and activate,
all forms,
of it’s hate.
Passing out the irritation,
distributing guns in crates, breakout fights enthrall,
waking all,
sleepy cells,
a final mission into depopulation.
As all simply wait, empty,
for special reports, to expose,
seen hate,
too be told,
about they’re fate,
if they’ll​ eat,
will they survive,
be hacked, stay alive,
or if money,
will even, carry it’s own weight?
As I listen too the creepy aftermath, before 4am,
I laugh,
l’m awful at it, but done all the math,
that shuts down half of half,
as unseen crop circles fill the skies, not as quietly
urging the electricity to black out and leave the grid silently.
At 5:59am it hovers, again,
to give it’s final creepy sprinkle,
for taste, in the wind.
Normal too breathe toxins in, while drinking cloudy tap waters,
as sea life,
lays lifeless on land.
Isn’t it creepy how everyone n distance the propeller sounds muffled,
like a covered mouth, that can’t scream, breath, or cough
while impurities are shuffled.
Holding you down still, to give you a daily dose of medicine,
as FDA, approves it all,
before a class action, sedative.
No one wants,
creepy sprinkles
added too their morning’s, icy scream,
as Fido runs off suddenly,
no longer part, of your family’s team.


Poetry lessons by Tamara Moore
Thinker on the Loose
Copyright Β© 2017


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