5 Poems by Linda Imbler

A Groovy Life


I want a groovy life,

one not filled with ransom demands or imaginary slights,

or plots disguised as needy pleas.


But, one with:

Hope for gifts given freely,

with reciprocity never demanded,

instead, each given according to one’s heart.


Music – pure, innocent

lyrics both beautiful

and deep in their meanings.


A seat from which to watch

the loveliness of nature unfold,

early or late in the day,

letting imagination name the colors.


Lastly, time in which to fulfill these desires.

All I can do is ask.


© Linda Imbler

Beautifully Broken


I dreamt last night,

but never slept,

unfolding my story

as loose images,

without plot,

without resolution,

trancing along to the blur

of the ceiling fan above me.


The woeful shatter

of my soul,

felt and heard,

above the dissonant void

of this room,

as relevant tears.


I, beautifully broken.


© Linda Imbler




In the beginning,

he could speak in words and esoteric phrases

that explained all our strange days.


Near the end,

as his world spun sideways,

he no longer feared his visage

reflected from the whiskey bottle.


Finally, he morphed into some demented,

frustrated clown

who claimed his name as its own.


In the final few seconds,

those creatures he spoke of so long ago

took him to the desert

and put him on the blue bus.


This is the end.


© Linda Imbler


Silent Meal


Their relationship did not die

with shouts and tears,

but only from the silence

in response to his talk.


Her new-found love

birthed the deafness

which kept her from hearing

his voice and his still-beating heart.


Perhaps when he’s gone,

she can find a heartbeat app

for that phone that so engaged her

while he sat at the table with her, alone.


© Linda Imbler

Walking the Road On the Cool Side of Infinity


He walks along the rim of the highway,

this man with the Gypsy soul.

He trods the vagabond paths.

He hears his feet slap the pavement.

He feels his fingers tap, tap, tap along the side of his leg.

He responds to an inner song that he alone hears.


All his necessities have been expended

and his wallet feels thin.

But this mobile man doesn’t worry.

There will always be another meal

and another small job in the next town.

Endless time is never his enemy.


What would scare most,

(he calls them the ‘jammed-up’ people) thrills him.

These new pleasures make him feel alive.

They help him find joy in all new, foreign places.

This road, which is long, lean, immeasurable and serpentine is his pal.


The snapping of his fingers matches his footfalls.

There’s too much living to do to sit and contemplate the limited ‘back then.’

So he keeps moving within this expanse

to help him forget that empty house,

that empty bed, and that backyard

with the empty sandbox.


Therefore he rambles on and all is well. Cool!

The new town is in sight!

This transformed wanderer believes it’s time

for the next new adventure.

Bring it on!


© Linda Imbler

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