This was a haiku I wrote around Christmas time last year.
bursting at the seams:
Christ-child contained, warm belly tight.
searing pain. new world.
-12/27/09
Sunday, July 18, 2010
run.
This was a poem I wrote for my rhetoric class; it's a series of haiku that make up a larger story.
feather curl: light as
breath in the corner where
you crouch, tendons tight.
hypnotic dance- the
petticoats unfurl, and a
sudden reflection
in wide eyes almost
could be maniacal. there
comes a twitch- a slight
movement. grandpa joe's
handiwork- a small pile of
sinners' souls. look out.
now comes the noise.
shriek, wail- brings forth neighbors for
miles- bleary eyes blink.
stuff fingers in ears:
run, run. do not stop for the
things you prize. just run.
run.
-2/7/10
feather curl: light as
breath in the corner where
you crouch, tendons tight.
hypnotic dance- the
petticoats unfurl, and a
sudden reflection
in wide eyes almost
could be maniacal. there
comes a twitch- a slight
movement. grandpa joe's
handiwork- a small pile of
sinners' souls. look out.
now comes the noise.
shriek, wail- brings forth neighbors for
miles- bleary eyes blink.
stuff fingers in ears:
run, run. do not stop for the
things you prize. just run.
run.
-2/7/10
Superman
This was a short story I wrote a couple of years ago; I was simply trying to give a background to a picture I had in my head. Looking back at it now, I realize many revisions are necessary, & I'm hoping to make those soon. In the meantime, enjoy, and please come back to read the (hopefully) better version.
He held it high overhead. It squealed and tried to bite him, but with no success. It barked, the yipping & yapping he hated so much. It's fur began to drift down on him. They had been standing there a long time.
The night it happened he had been safely in bed. Everything was quiet. He had almost drifted off into a pleasant sleep, when he woke up with a start. That was when he first heard it: that yipping. The screen door across the street banged open, and a woman yelled, "Muffin! Get back in here!" But even when she had taken "Muffin" back inside, he still hadn't been able to sleep. He could still hear it. The annoying, incessant barking. Three hours later, his cell phone began to ring. "We've got an accident," a man's voice said. "Get down here quick." Well, he would go. Even though he hadn't gotten any sleep. He pulled on his boots. Back to the same old thing.
All his days were starting to run together. No food, no water, and sometimes the drop from the top of the skyscraper looked like only a step. Oh well. He would stand here till he felt like dropping. Him, the dog, or both.
He woke with a start. His cell phone was ringing again. "Hello?" "Why aren't you down here? I called you an hour ago!" Then he remembered. The accident. He was supposed to be helping with the accident. "I'm so sorry..." he started to say, but the person on the other line hung up. That dog. He must get the dog.
"Dog, you'll pay for your yipping and yapping... if it's the last thing I do..." The dog yipped again and he leaned forward. A crowd was gathered below, and one woman in the front screamed, "Oh Muffin!" He decided this was the moment. He jumped.
He was Superman, after all.
-4/18/08
He held it high overhead. It squealed and tried to bite him, but with no success. It barked, the yipping & yapping he hated so much. It's fur began to drift down on him. They had been standing there a long time.
The night it happened he had been safely in bed. Everything was quiet. He had almost drifted off into a pleasant sleep, when he woke up with a start. That was when he first heard it: that yipping. The screen door across the street banged open, and a woman yelled, "Muffin! Get back in here!" But even when she had taken "Muffin" back inside, he still hadn't been able to sleep. He could still hear it. The annoying, incessant barking. Three hours later, his cell phone began to ring. "We've got an accident," a man's voice said. "Get down here quick." Well, he would go. Even though he hadn't gotten any sleep. He pulled on his boots. Back to the same old thing.
All his days were starting to run together. No food, no water, and sometimes the drop from the top of the skyscraper looked like only a step. Oh well. He would stand here till he felt like dropping. Him, the dog, or both.
He woke with a start. His cell phone was ringing again. "Hello?" "Why aren't you down here? I called you an hour ago!" Then he remembered. The accident. He was supposed to be helping with the accident. "I'm so sorry..." he started to say, but the person on the other line hung up. That dog. He must get the dog.
"Dog, you'll pay for your yipping and yapping... if it's the last thing I do..." The dog yipped again and he leaned forward. A crowd was gathered below, and one woman in the front screamed, "Oh Muffin!" He decided this was the moment. He jumped.
He was Superman, after all.
-4/18/08
Deck
Broken backs flipping and mixing together,
the backs of each the same.
Difference comes in the faces, however,
for each has it's own identity:
it either smiles back
or is too modest,
& simply lets you count its symbols.
-12/11/08
the backs of each the same.
Difference comes in the faces, however,
for each has it's own identity:
it either smiles back
or is too modest,
& simply lets you count its symbols.
-12/11/08
Bread
Looking weathered, though new.
Your surface:
a dull gold.
You remind me of the face of an old woman, remembering:
possibly something from her childhood.
She will tell the story to her grandchildren,
but only after she has pulled her trusty knife through you innards,
softening your slices and the childrens' hearts
with butter,
as she prepares to begin her tale.
-11/5/08
Your surface:
a dull gold.
You remind me of the face of an old woman, remembering:
possibly something from her childhood.
She will tell the story to her grandchildren,
but only after she has pulled her trusty knife through you innards,
softening your slices and the childrens' hearts
with butter,
as she prepares to begin her tale.
-11/5/08
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
