Iambic Pentameter
© 2010 Mark Pearce

I rowed a boat along the dusty plane.

Trust is shaken
© 2010 Mark Pearce

Rumbles and shakes.
Rumbles and shakes.
It's not just the buildings
But the world that breaks.

The lives that change,
The friends that go,

Oooey-Gooey Butter Cake
© 2010 Mark Pearce

It’s so darn moist
It’s hardly baked.
It’s Oooey-Gooey Butter Cake.

I’d run a mile.
Jump in a lake.

The 2010 Montserrat Poetry Festival takes place on Sunday afternoon, May 23rd at Montserrat Vineyards in Monserrat, Missouri, USA. Here is the line-up. All times listed are CDT.

Spillage
© 2010 Mark Pearce

My thoughts are not interesting anymore.
Not thoughts at all, as I can tell.
Just spillage.

One would expect in a downpour

I picked up a rock
© 2010 Mark Pearce

I picked up a rock.
It wasn’t just any rock.
It was a magic rock.
And it was magic because
It inspired this verse.

Strategic Planning
© 2010 Mark Pearce

Chiggers and white socks
do not mix.

'Round here
the chigger bloom
occurs the same time
blackberries ripen.

Haiku Mid-Afternoon Snack
© 2010 Mark Pearce

A golden window
frames the world – a butterfly
lights for the artist.

The wind blows. Blossoms
fall. Fallen petals create

Travelogue
© 2010 Mark Pearce

There be a rusty river
running through my town.

It turns the sandy beaches
to a rusty brown.

It scrapes the piers and pylons

The Answer
© 2010 Mark Pearce

William Shakespeare,
that smart sum-a-bitch;
The American Idol
of Elizabethan Theatre.

Hell.
There wasn’t even

Greatest Dream
© 2010 Mark Pearce

My greatest dream –
to be paid
one million dollars
for a poem.

“That poem is
so wonderful,
here is

Re: Submission period open for Montserrat Poetry Festival

Sub. Deadline: January 30, 2010

Event Date: May 23, 2010

There is a science
Of studying the crystalization of water.

Bottles of water labeled "Hope"
And "Love" and "Joy"
Produce ice crystals of
Amazing complexity and symmetry.

There was a day
Mark Pearce (c) 2009

There was a day
When the sun didn’t sing
And the Earth didn’t turn
And the stars didn’t blink

And the moon didn’t wax

Riches
Mark Pearce (c) 2009

Fifteen shovels
And no dirt.

Thousands of kisses
But none from you.

I have so much.
I have nothing.