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House Of Cards Haiku
Stacked like a house of cards that–
Winds cause to tumble
Shapes into another housePoem For Amina Lawal
In my age
I am
Who?
For whom
Am I
Who I am
And no other
For whom dare I be
A non-productive member
Of my society
Not active, while tending to those around me
Who?
Might they be
Who run freely
That I contradict them
That they judge me
That they execute me
That they take away my child
From me
Who?
Attending to God
So sparingly
A voice abruptly taken
A mouth fed
Which has bled for a life
And now runs into deathIs But Isn’t
Travelling like an illegal immigrant
In your heart
Hanging on to which
And which to part–its wings?
Spiralling tubing–a lark–
Aorta stowaway–loss of air–
Set fire to which compartment?
Plasma carting
Arrival without papers
Fleeing like a warmed breathQuote:Saw this girl in her cellular world.Robert, this whole poem is fucking awesome.
take care,
rosaYou know, I’ve just started reading this thread, and I think I finally "get" poetry (without power chords behind it). And with a digital recorder on the horizon, I’ve been trying to write more. If anything passes the imfamous "24 hour test" I’ll post it hers
btw, Rosa, the new haircut, it isn’t you, sorry dear.
OK, since it is Christmas, instead of boring you with my usual pennance, I am going to write my latest poem: "Ode To My Landlord" after the holidays–Merry X-Mas tout le monde!
That’s How I Know What Time It Is
Thinking about you
That’s my time of day
Ring around me
Like a clock wound
And then tampered with
Where Berber skin
Grafts itself into the midnight sun
A lapse of space-time continuum
An engine for memory
Collapsed into eternal fray
And I grieve
Thinking you immortal
Up my sleeveAll the beauty’s been
Written out of this world
What’ve you got, girl?
What’ve you got?
So jealous and sad
Of all those ballads
Never ending crowds
To burrow your mind aloud
Turning insides out
Putting thoughts into doubt
What’ve you got girl
Coming out
Of that bitter-sweet mouth
Pretty laced-up
In a secretive shroud
Never as sensate
As the real one allows
Put another tone, dear
Instead of running a foul
Bragging obtuse about
The wrong sphere
In sheer stunning arousal…So easily missed…
When the signpost
Ain’t that big
Could have taken
The wrong exit
…But I didn’t…
And now I’m on your street
Looking for that address
With directions written
On a piece of paper napkin
Stained with watered-down coffee;
Add to it a smack of rouge
And a smear of lipstick.
You said your door was busted
And stained with fiery red
There’s a racoon tail
On the side shutter
And the buzzer is dead
You said your wife
Might answer
And if she came to the door
Tell her that I sent you, forevermore.He did everything they wanted him to
but suddenly he stopped, didn’t know where to go
then he saw this bird and he showed him the way
the way we all go when time is right
they talked about life and reasons to reject it
and there was pure astonishment in his pale blue eyes
’cause he flew high above the earth
wondered if his journey’d ever come to an end
through colored clouds he looped
and he found a place where he thought he could stay
it was dark, but also clear and with no room for fear
"Here", he gladly thought, " it would take a shitload of hell to frighten me!"
and day by day his pain moved away
he spent hours, months, years in silence, moved only in his mind
but nonetheless merely a few seconds passed
enough time to notice that he lost his soul
"Yeah.. so it feels", he said, "to take the bus."
and a lonesome tear ran down his cheek.Written on the day before New Year’s Eve.
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