Finger Tapping – A Poem

Finger Tapping

 

like rolling waves from the white shores

of index to the rocky pinky.

 

like drum beats far in the distance

without the thunderous clash of cymbals,

 

or like a wish for guitar strings

plucked by hands too weary for music.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #128 – A Familiar Face

A Familiar Face

 

I thought I had seen

her face

 

in between recess

and graduation

 

jaywalking across

the street

 

as the sun sank behind

the station.

——

 

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Needy Cat (and Other Haikus)

Stretching

I feel like strings

wound tight to an instrument

being plucked softly.

 

Lotus Position

He sat with palms up

not knowing that the flowers

would fall in his hands.

Coupled Drops

Rain drops on the pane

drip slow on the glass until

they mix together.

 

Static Shock

Our fingertips touched

for an electric moment

unexpectedly.

 

Needy Cat

Her persistent mews

weave lightly between my feet,

asking me for pets.

——

 

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LOVE POEM #126 – Tears of Ink

Tears of Ink

 

I remember her eyes, dotted

with tears of ink, like an iris

pouring its soul onto the page

in a breath of wind and black rain.

——

 

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Dog at the Window (and Other Haikus)

On the Tree

From the willow tree

buds the adventures of seeds

scattered by its fall.

 

Aroma

The open oven

spreads the scent of fresh baked bread

wafting through the house.

 

Uphill

The burn in my legs

is harder to overcome

than the mountain is.

 

Tinder

The burning tinder

smoked in a whirling tempest

before the wood caught.

 

Dog at the Window

His paws are like boughs

scratching at the windowpane;

save trees do not moan.

——

 

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A Man Sits in the Room – 2

A man sits in the room.

He’s been sitting there since you left—adjusting his tie without a mirror; picking at his teeth. I added a few bags of food for him, which he perused absentmindedly for a while.

The paper is still there too. A few lines were scrawled, before he crossed them out again. You know how it is, trying to build a fortress without the proper tools. Such a shame about the wall though.

I thought I heard him get up for a moment then, but when I turned my eyes back to the window, he was still in that heavy desk chair. I wonder what he sees in the dim yellow paint. A good choice you made there.

I understand you must be off. An empty stomach is a recipe for destruction. The room will still be here tomorrow. It was nice of you to stop by though. A man is wont to hear other voices.

Don’t let him keep you. Go back to your slat roof and wooden dining table. Enjoy your four walls, and the voices that fill them. Be sure to set the plates before you pile onto the food. A man should enjoy his meals properly.

——

 

Hello there! This is part 2. See part 1 here.

 

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New Year’s Dog (and Other Haikus)

Christmas with Family

A mountain of gifts

pile up under the tree

as people pour in.

 

Angry Child

The car clatters down,

smashed to pieces on impact

after he threw it.

 

Stood Up

The evening grows dark

and her warm eyes melt like wax

in the candle light.

 

Appetizers

Toothpicks and crackers

are scattered across the trays

to scoop up the cheese.

 

New Year’s Dog

He hears the glasses

clinking alongside the cheers

throughout the city.

——

 

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Catniss (and Other Haikus)

Restraint

I swallowed the spit

that’s been sitting on my tongue

since I spotted you.

 

Out of the Shower

Shivers rip through me

as I slide back the glass door

and the steam slips out.

 

Khaleesi

The snow in your hair

reflects the sunlit smile

of your scorching heart.

 

Obsession

The lights have gone off,

my eyes have shut out the stars

but still I see you.

 

Catniss

She springs from the bed

like an arrow from a bow,

but lands in silence.

——

 

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MUSIC SERIES – Phantoms

I’ve been listening to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack on repeat all weekend to help me relax while I work on my finals, so it seems only fitting to write a poem based on Gollum’s Song from the Two Towers. Enjoy!

 

Phantoms

In the solemn silence of night

I recognize my white fingers

as ghosts, wriggling in darkness

like fish beneath the still waters.

 

Soon a footstep catches the rocks

and cries out into the unknown.

Then, those specters become shadows

like the sharks that wait in the deep.

——

 

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FIFTY WORD STORY – Let Me Be You

Let me be you. Let me square my shoulders as you do yours, draw back my locks with the strength of your neck. Let me smile with your white teeth, kiss with your red lips, speak with your hot tongue. And let me bleed with the warmth of your heart.

——

 

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