Uncut Thread
Like salt in chocolate so you seem to me
an evening with a perfect cup of tea
These things we seek since childhood to taste
pursuing happiness on feet that flee
from all the darkness deep upon the world
that lays upon the mind so staggeringly
I once believed that love was like a furnace
could burn me up too fast for me to see
Or maybe love was deeper than the ocean
but choked and fraught with flotsam and debris
But there you were with moonlight in your hair
a promise of the person I could be
I'll try to be the person that you see
this evening with a single cup of tea
Notes: I tried to write a ghazal but I messed up on some of the rules so here we are.
Tuesday, April 25, 2017
Monday, April 24, 2017
NaPoWriMo Day 17: Now Only One Week Behind!
Insomniac's Lullabye
listen
rain is falling outside
your window
whispering
a song you half remember
the radio plays in the next room
soft-focus NPR voices but
pretend you cannot understand them
a language you half forget
listen
you are falling asleep
the way you fall in love
reluctantly
frogs are calling in the grass
rising and falling
with every breath
listen
the rain has stopped
or maybe
you've fallen
asleep
listen
rain is falling outside
your window
whispering
a song you half remember
the radio plays in the next room
soft-focus NPR voices but
pretend you cannot understand them
a language you half forget
listen
you are falling asleep
the way you fall in love
reluctantly
frogs are calling in the grass
rising and falling
with every breath
listen
the rain has stopped
or maybe
you've fallen
asleep
NaPoWriMo Day 16: Five by Five
On the Dock
sea
and sky
seagulls flock
waiting for day's
end
#2
he
never
locks the car
small towns are safe
right?
They Fear Nothing
deer
wander
eat roses
nothing is safe
damn
Small Town
I
knew you
when you were
this tall. How's your
mom?
In the Parking Lot Behind the Bank
birds
wheeling
evening sky
the color of
tea
Notes: These are all "lanternes", a fun syllabic poem that goes 1-2-3-4-1. They're all about my hometown.
sea
and sky
seagulls flock
waiting for day's
end
#2
he
never
locks the car
small towns are safe
right?
They Fear Nothing
deer
wander
eat roses
nothing is safe
damn
Small Town
I
knew you
when you were
this tall. How's your
mom?
In the Parking Lot Behind the Bank
birds
wheeling
evening sky
the color of
tea
Notes: These are all "lanternes", a fun syllabic poem that goes 1-2-3-4-1. They're all about my hometown.
NaPoWriMo Day 15: Small Things
Minor Arcana
A curse on you
and your family
may apathy follow
on your heels may
busses pass your stop
may single shingles fall
from your roof
like tears from a single man
in a movie theatre
pretending he is strong
Notes: it feels unfinished but bruh I am almost 10 days behind so HERE WE ARE
A curse on you
and your family
may apathy follow
on your heels may
busses pass your stop
may single shingles fall
from your roof
like tears from a single man
in a movie theatre
pretending he is strong
Notes: it feels unfinished but bruh I am almost 10 days behind so HERE WE ARE
Thursday, April 20, 2017
NaPoWriMo Day 14: Vaguely Insulting and Not Very Good
Clerihews for the Unlucky Few
Lin-Manuel Miranda
got dark circles like a panda
only owns a single sweater
best achievement was rhyming Burr, sir
Tara Madrone
Got a new case for her phone
Purple is the color she likes
Spends all day working with tykes
James Teebes Kelso
Likes to fly solo
Never will he pass up a pun
Does that really make him fun?
Larry Dennison
Well, he's pretty fun
Very good at cooking
But rather less good-looking
Rick Dennison
Taught me how to make a pun
His record collection is off the hook
But has he ever read a book?
Robert Downey Jr
You'll find that he's no amateur
If asked a question at Sundance or Cannes
He just says "I am Iron Man"
Chris Evans
Is a gift from the heavens
If you're funny he'll grab a left boob
In some ways, he's just a loveable noob
Notes: So I learned a new type of poem called a clerihew and I'm addicted. The first line is a name, the second line rhymes with that name, and then the last two lines are a couplet. They're usually about famous people and should make fun of the person a bit. Try it! It's very fun.
Lin-Manuel Miranda
got dark circles like a panda
only owns a single sweater
best achievement was rhyming Burr, sir
Tara Madrone
Got a new case for her phone
Purple is the color she likes
Spends all day working with tykes
James Teebes Kelso
Likes to fly solo
Never will he pass up a pun
Does that really make him fun?
Larry Dennison
Well, he's pretty fun
Very good at cooking
But rather less good-looking
Rick Dennison
Taught me how to make a pun
His record collection is off the hook
But has he ever read a book?
Robert Downey Jr
You'll find that he's no amateur
If asked a question at Sundance or Cannes
He just says "I am Iron Man"
Chris Evans
Is a gift from the heavens
If you're funny he'll grab a left boob
In some ways, he's just a loveable noob
Notes: So I learned a new type of poem called a clerihew and I'm addicted. The first line is a name, the second line rhymes with that name, and then the last two lines are a couplet. They're usually about famous people and should make fun of the person a bit. Try it! It's very fun.
Wednesday, April 19, 2017
NaPoWriMo Day 13: English Voodoo
This Is How To Fall In Love
Beetle-black, a misnomer, did you
ever really look at that exoskeleton?
sometimes we wear our bones on the outside
iridescent as an oil slick
nothing sticks to a rolling stone
I'm told
Where are the points that connect us
when blood is a nursery rhyme
all the things we remember
have gone up in greenstick fractures of flame
In Bottletown, even our tears flicker like jewels.
Broken windows are an eye to the soul
or was it the glass-lined streets that reflected
scintillating, like a universe of stars in my gut?
ignorance was never a luxury I could afford
This is the secret of how to die:
live, until someone shoots first
retell your story until it works
like summer grass growing higher than my head
follow the bug compass and there I am
waiting
sometimes we get the words wrong
keys stuck in a lock, jammed
I'm sorry
There are a thousand things in this room
and I'm and merely
one of them
Notes: the truth is I will never stop writing about Vurt. It's a problem I don't know how to solve. Count the references!
Beetle-black, a misnomer, did you
ever really look at that exoskeleton?
sometimes we wear our bones on the outside
iridescent as an oil slick
nothing sticks to a rolling stone
I'm told
Where are the points that connect us
when blood is a nursery rhyme
all the things we remember
have gone up in greenstick fractures of flame
In Bottletown, even our tears flicker like jewels.
Broken windows are an eye to the soul
or was it the glass-lined streets that reflected
scintillating, like a universe of stars in my gut?
ignorance was never a luxury I could afford
This is the secret of how to die:
live, until someone shoots first
retell your story until it works
like summer grass growing higher than my head
follow the bug compass and there I am
waiting
sometimes we get the words wrong
keys stuck in a lock, jammed
I'm sorry
There are a thousand things in this room
and I'm and merely
one of them
Notes: the truth is I will never stop writing about Vurt. It's a problem I don't know how to solve. Count the references!
NaPoWriMo Day 12: A Dramatic Utterance At A Moment In Time
Kennings
Last night I was walking home, it was late
streetlights yellow islands
one headphone out, listening for a siren's song
raiders on that wine-dark sea, the growl of a motorcycle
woke me up, thinking
on my left the hard reality of a car
on my right the growl of a motorcycle
slowing
flickering islands far from view, but I am fast
my feet can follow the whale roads
faster than they know, but
no
it is only the local grocer
wanting to know why I haven't visited
I was sick, I say, he nods, sympathetic
leaves me to my thoughts
tripping between lights and wondering if next time
I'll stay so luck
Notes: my 11th grade English teacher always said a poem was "a dramatic utterance at a moment in time" so this one's for you Chris.
Last night I was walking home, it was late
streetlights yellow islands
one headphone out, listening for a siren's song
raiders on that wine-dark sea, the growl of a motorcycle
woke me up, thinking
on my left the hard reality of a car
on my right the growl of a motorcycle
slowing
flickering islands far from view, but I am fast
my feet can follow the whale roads
faster than they know, but
no
it is only the local grocer
wanting to know why I haven't visited
I was sick, I say, he nods, sympathetic
leaves me to my thoughts
tripping between lights and wondering if next time
I'll stay so luck
Notes: my 11th grade English teacher always said a poem was "a dramatic utterance at a moment in time" so this one's for you Chris.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)