August 31, 2012

#1179 haiku: yama-who?

avoiding line-up
awkward chopsticks clapping to ease
drink, dessert... relax

August 29, 2012

#1178 of bones and hearts

i'm still fractured from the fall
when your stuttered sputtered october words
left me waiting for terminal velocity
now choosing socks and eating breakfast is a chore
i'm still fractured from the fall
the worst part is, you were right
but burst deflated my biggest truth balloon
so now i lay on the floor
still attached to the string that once kept me from flying into the blue
just lay here
fractured

August 21, 2012

#1177 november 1st, dawn

she is an angel
sleeping half on sidewalk, half on a stranger's lawn
she imbibed in the bottle
hence this fall from heaven
wet toilet paper and an empty bottle
this world overwhelmed her
and she tried to escape
for a while it worked
laughing and dancing and childlike
next year, she should dress as a lady of the night
to make the scene congruous
but she'll still be an angel
an angel i've known since spelling tests were a weekly part of our lives

August 7, 2012

#1176 weekdays

if only there were a poem that spoke of my love for you
it would be volumes long and three words short
if only there were a poem that spoke of my love for you
it would be in my handwriting on a napkin, and in perfect print on thick cardstock
if only there were a poem that spoke of my love for you
it would be full of full-stops and commas and colons and semi-colons; and free of punctuation
if only there were a poem that spoke of my love for you
it would fill every inch of space and breate with the white space of the empty page
it would yell from skyscraper tops and whisper between pillows
it would be raw as sharkbait and powerful as gator jaws
if only there were a poem that spoke of my love for you
if only, but there's not
so you sit ahead of me monday to friday
unaware of my cowardice
unaware of my love

August 4, 2012

#1175 320 Series

green and yellow coming up the hill
today's projects, yesterday's memories
only something this old could run this long
and "nothing runs" like this one
i'd trade you five new ones
to keep this one
and all the memories stored on the rear platform

August 3, 2012

#1174 how many stories

how many storeys
asks the real estate agent
mrs. williams thinks for a moment
thinks about her children
her late husband
births and deaths
tears and smiles
birthdays and holidays
bad days and sad days
millions
she wants to say but all that comes out is
two... two stories

August 2, 2012

#1173 green

my childhood is a forest filled with big trees that used to be saplings
big happy trees
and blooming flowers
and every hue of green
trails of mystery that never scare
a story hidden around every treed bend
my childhood is a forest filled with happiness that used to be the everyday