Saturday, February 28, 2009

February 28th, 2009 - To Be Titled

To Be Titled

Atop a Hill there lives a Man
With flowers sprouting from His hands.
Each petal brushes upon my face,
Delivering an aroma so astute
And crisp as the ocean's shore
That other scents exist no more.

Waterlilies and wild berries fill my nose,
Closing each nostril and sewing them shut in bows,
While my mouth moves about the apples
Which hanged from his hair.
Each strand so smooth and silky,
Skin falling away in golden clumps
And ruby juice running down my chin,
Until I could not taste again.

Azure, violet, and cardinal flower
Fill my eyes as the juice turned sour,
Making my mouth tighten and pucker
Like a noose on an undertaker's birthday.
Every petal, another shade,
Stroking my lashes
And lulling each eye shut
Replacing both with coal and soot.

Blindly, I rub His grassy chest,
Each blade poking me with tenderness,
Warming my hands, caressing my veins.
Flowery fingers gently cradle my skull,
Forcefully his roots entangle my figure
And we bathe together in the sun,
When finally my frame goes numb.

We sit, or stand, or float, or move,
Atop a Hill, or in a Grove,
Unknown to me as I doze off daily, weekly.
Time passes quickly or slowly,
Without worry or regard,
With the frustration of a traveling gambler
Trapped in Nevada with nary a nickel
Or stuck in Antarctica with a cool million.
And I listen as a child draws near,
Making me lament my ability to hear.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Thursday, February 26, 2009

February 26th, 2009 - Tanka

Wooden dams collapse
Ushering in the Great Flood.
Have you seen my son?
Servants bones break against trees,
While the world rotates clockwise.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

February 24th, 2009 - Strolling through Camden by the River

“Strolling through Camden by the River”

Gazing down upon the meadow at midnight,
Where five children frolic and play.
Riding nude upon a Pegasus, snow white,
While honeysuckles caress the moonlight,
Until their dying day.

Monday, February 23, 2009

February 23rd, 2009 - To Be Titled

Roll out the rugs, sound the alarms!
Our neighbors just bought a new atom bomb!
We’ll throw a party, it shan’t take too long,
Push on the button and the guests are all gone!

And where upon was this bomb purchased?
Well, around the fairgrounds the other night.
How much, surely the atoms aren’t worthless?
Surely not! Priceless! A great, glowing sight!
And how long shall the metal glow so bright?
Eternities! Our light never shall fade!
And if the neighbors resist, yell, or fight?
Press the button, friend, and they’ll be deceased!
They’ll knock on my door filled with shame
With ropes in hand and torches aflame
Crying for shelter which will fall on deaf ears
Fearing the explosion that soon overtakes Earth
While I sit by the fire waiting for the next day.

Always waiting, never arriving,
My bomb and me for eternity!

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Saturday, February 21, 2009

February 21st, 2009 - Memories from Mother's Kitchen

"Memories from Mother's Kitchen"

Cages filled with captured mice quarreling over the cheese cube cover the counter.
Roll up your sleeves, smile, sing,
Never forget a step.
Snap their necks nice and clean, making sure to hear the crack.
Hesitate not or we’ll starve.
Remember, one hand on the stomach and one on the head.
And pull.
No push.
Mistakes are natural, they are only human.
You. Us. We. Not they.
Hold their hands, tails rather, and set them inside.
Pack each one in tight, let the tails hang out for decoration.
Roll the crust over the top, cut breathing holes in the top.
Frill the edges, make the pie presentable, check the time.
Quarter, a quarter inch, cut a quarter inch on top.
One more for flavor.
Do not snap, slice.
Drizzle over top.
Finish the remains, you deserve a snack.
Slide pie in oven, bake on high two hours.
Do not forget to wash your hands,
When you are finished.

Hear the noise?
Father must have ended early.

Friday, February 20, 2009

February 20th, 2009 - Haiku

4 Haiku today as I hopefully go on a binge and get something productive finished shortly. All feedback in welcome...none are titled and all are original creations. The poems are not related to each other and should be read individually.

Flowers spring anew,
Flames dance seductively close,
Blooming and Burning.

Snow blankets the ground,
Tucking in stranded children
As the Son slumbers.

My bony eyes stare,
Stroking the brain gleefully
With procreation.

Benches wait Vacant,
Uniform, always Constant,
Unfilled, and Breaking,