Tagged: new poetry

Japanese Haibun Poem 0

Aftermath

Haibun Poetry   Blood on a barren field. Lifeless gray birches border the parched, dusty ground. A curious twilight before the coming dark. I press my hand against my open wounds. It’s drenched in...

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Sidewalk Blessings

One day at a time One word at a time One moment to the next One moment better than the rest One time to make it work One time to make it last One...

Japanese Haibun 0

First Agape

Haibun Poetry   I turned over my rusty red tricycle in the mud room. Then I spun the wheels. And listened to their vroom. Feeling that presence that even now I can’t name. plop...

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Via Mirrors

Wait That thing is still there And your hair is askew And your eyes are too close And you sure do look tired Muss your hair Well that didn’t fix anything You look less...

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Punk Poet

I’m freshly germinated, I’m learner plated, regurgitating circa eighties post punk poetry, trying to see how many times I can fit fuck into a sentence until I’m saying it – relentlessly. Fuck you! Fuck me!...

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A Lesson From My Founding Fathers

I stiffly sit back in my creaking wooden school chair my blank-faced response to the professor’s inquiry now burning into a lovely scarlet the rosy color perhaps forming into the letter D for Dunce...

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Mandy Knows – Part Two

But Mandy knew And yet she tried harder. “This way they’ll see,” She thought, “All the hours I spend To make them happy.” But Mandy kept getting Disappointments and sighs Sometimes they’d even Roll...

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Narcissus

There, you flitter between arrival and oblivion, perched princely on a skirt of Sun, bob and wiggle in a swell of wind, fluttering, flailing — flappy ruffles, swooping, swaying — swishy whispers, a throng...

Haibun Prose 1

Naked Inattention

Haibun Poetry   We change from gym in the boy’s bathroom — talking about something that grabs my undivided attention. We walk down the gray-brown granite hallway to our first-grade class. We step inside....

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B612

You think that your sadness is unique until you read, Steinbeck said So emotions were never ours to own But still they can’t be shaken And we have never met But as I watch...

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A Bug’s Death

Standing, staring into the cold, white interior of the bath. A crane fly is caught in the trickle of the tap, helpless. One wing lifeless, the other madly flapping to no avail. For a...

Haibun Prose 0

Adoption Mine

Haibun Mom told me the story. She and Dad had applied to adopt a child. Westchester Family Services had interviewed them. Social workers inspected their immaculate two-bedroom apartment. But lawyers, doctors, stockbrokers and executives...