Concrete paths bleed
summers heat
into the evening,
into soles
of worn shoes,
old rythms
carrying me
into shadows,
alleyways, corners
of a city
I try to love.
Archive for the ‘Open Form’ Category
Shaman
April 30, 2009tied into braids,
a form of memory,
small tribute,
to what was,
to the wind,
and change.
Think
April 30, 2009Forget her
with hope
of normal sleep,
a morning
not alone,
a fragment
of sanity,
a moment
of contact
with humanity.
Seeing Red
April 28, 2009Red traces through reflection
of eyes, sleep fragmented
into another day, red lights
dragging out errands
to collect scarlet fruit,
distracted by her cherry
lips, but dragging myself
through that haze, following
red tail-lights along streets
that hopefully lead back
to dreams of a red skirt,
and rest.
The Fool
April 28, 2009Lunacy, extravagant folly,
an impossible cadence
of leaking reality,
ignoring odds, convention,
rules and rhyme,
because sometimes
that is all it takes
to create.
Writing Papers
April 18, 2009Blank page,
waiting for fill,
for thoughts,
instead laundry,
craft projects,
organizing
everything,
cleaning, or dishes,
until last minute
inspiration chimes in.
Bed
April 12, 2009Nights of flashlights,
piles of books
and cluttered floors,
cars humming past
muffled by houses,
stuffed animals
and the cat
filling bed.
Morality
April 11, 2009Peachy.
Another attempt
to civilize,
to save,
never asked
not questioned,
just given
as if gods
made flesh
we spread
claiming right
even as bodies
pile high.
NaPoWriMo Read Write Poem Prompt #11
points if anyone catches the movie reference. :)
Paths
April 8, 2009Little mouse caught
with charms
I never see,
hiding
in a strength
she wears as armor,
buries pain
and memory in,
falters
so rarely, but still
needs something more,
knows more
then she realizes,
trying for balance
between history
and present,
a future waiting
for those first steps.
Rowsimipoem
April 7, 2009Rowsdower.
Lazy drunkard
fighting cultists
across bad dialogue
and flimsy plot.
Three shadows
adding a theme song,
asking the question
“Is that a stupid name?”
Ham still laughs
every time name
is said, conjuring
basement viewing
and denim jackets,
bad hair, nothing
resembling me,
but so fun to say,
to mold a name
to an identity,
random shortenings,
additions, Rowsimicat,
the Rowisimcar,
Roswell shouted
across campus,
baffling strangers,
friends parents
who still know me
by my claimed
moniker.
