Fucking You Should Come With a Hazard Sign
Fucking you should come with a hazard sign. My skin is broken easily and your nails draw blood. I have a high pain thresh-hold, but don’t like the look of the whip selection in...
Tagged: new poetry
Snow and Solitude
Snow dropped by the other day Paraded down the street Grandly swayed, a bright ballet Both powerful and meek Colorless, a vibrant mess Lighting all the roads Where folks, well-dressed Recess, de-stress, live out...
Emerald Lake
Listening carefully through the whispers of winds and chatter of travelers. Through the calls of birds seeking a mate and footsteps on the rocks, I hear what’s underneath. A gentle ripple of water kissed...
No One Can See You
You do not exist They laugh at your jokes They glance over when you smile They say, I have learned so much from you! But they cannot see you Yes, you are known but...
Twenty One Fifteen
In 2115, we will fall in love. I will approach you at a friend’s party, or by a painting in some museum, in a chain coffee shop, or a subway platform, the produce aisle...
I Will Always Have Your Back
Looking in the mirror, truly you do find a person looking out just for kicks turn away folds of mores fit so loosely ’round premade stutter-steps to that edge sometimes…sometimes we all talk of...
New Year’s Dinner
English Haibun Poem Gathered at the end of the table: Platters of feijoada (pig’s feet with chick peas), trays of rice, glasses topped with red wine so deep and strong it could pass...
Lonesome Suburb
I see young families growing old, See the plot-lines of their lives unfold. I am a Lonesome suburb. I see wives in four wheel drives and question the reasons for their size. I am...
Winter Days
when the tree stands up it brings the past, forgotten thoughts, twilight and the night. it makes me feel the lost of the ones that left forever. when the lights go on like tears...
A Darker Shade of Merry: Unmasked
Christmas Poetry Billionaires on the cheap market streams of valley dreams to Walmart’s $9 hourly workers trampled on by covetous, just above the rubber-necking credit carding, forty hour weekly braille needing, maxed out,...
First Gift-Opening Without Dad
Contemporary Haibun Poem Frankie’s hands tear away the wrapping. Brown eyes widen; the corners of his mouth rise: joyful shouting begins. “A pillow pet! Thank you! It’s what I’ve always wanted!” I snap...
