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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Walking the Dog (and Other Haikus)

Shower Thoughts

Words rise through the steam

as the water scalds the cold

out of tired limbs.

 

Autumn Eyes

Her eyes are like leaves

that drift down to the red dirt.

Fall is in her hair.

 

Toothpick

Lodged between my teeth,

a kernel swells with pressure

‘til I stab it free.

 

Midnight Snack

The cold floorboards creak

as I cross through the kitchen

to sneak a quick bite.

 

Walking the Dog

He pulls the harness

in hopes that we will hurry

after the squirrel.

——

 

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MUSIC SERIES – Sunday Rains

This poem was inspired by The Escapist, the second half of the song Death and All His Friends, by Coldplay.

Sunday Rains

 

When I am in my Sunday chair

with a cup seated lazily

on the woven wicker coaster,

its steam rolling over the rim,

 

I can look out the latched windows,

through the misty streets of New York

to the dimly lit country house

hidden five miles past Bozeman.

 

The station becomes Fairy Lake;

the stairs a winding waterfall

for people in suits to go swim

in the waters of the subway.

 

I suppose that makes me the shrubbery;

a scrub far beneath the hedge funds

waiting for rain to trickle down

on the tin roof of my apartment.

——

 

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Time and Matisse – A Poem

Hey everyone, I’m behind schedule so here’s a poem I wrote a while ago!

Time and Matisse

I have found it easiest to watch time pass

as a fly on a wall, or a bird in a cage,

where you can see life in full color

slowly trickle away in a watery ocean.

 

Like a bleeding Renaissance canvas

where chapels were defined by their ceilings,

and painters by their attention to detail.

So simple, so fine, so real, so definite.

 

But as with many aged men, blurred lines

infect the day to day life, until a grainstack

at sunset might look more like a mountain

than ingredients to a meal.

 

Until finally, wheeling about from bed to chair,

one can hardly define where buildings start or end.

The once crystal clear canvases are thickly spackled

with the silhouettes of cut-out figurines

falling through paper starlight.

 

Around then the fly will depart,

and the empty-eyed birds will stop singing

while the last of the colors drift out the window

in an unforgettable breeze of vivid imagination.

 

——

 

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FIFTY WORD STORY – The Cat Apologizes

I had been writing for hours with him scratching at the post in the background, slowly building in frustration. Then suddenly, the noise stopped, and I was surprised by an unexpected patch of fur rubbing against my leg. He had padded over, orange fur and all, in an apparent apology.

——

 

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Tricky Dog (and Other Haikus)

Appearances

Those cracks in the rock

are but ripples in the shade

as the wind rolls through.

 

Tangled

The branches caught me

in interwoven tendrils

like a comb through hair.

 

Always Watching

The misshapen limbs

of the strange metallic bird

stare through the window.

 

Channel

The electric stream

coursing through my tired eyes

sails me to sleep.

 

Tricky Dog

While passing out treats,

he played a swift, sudden trick

and snatched a second.

——

 

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MUSIC SERIES – Traveller

This poem was inspired by Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right by Bob Dylan. Have a song you think I should write about? Let me know in the comments!

 

Traveller

 

After the dust has caked my lungs

and the hot swallows of dry air

have scorched my swollen throat to ash,

I wonder if my doubts will flame

 

and if, after feet grow heavy,

the heat of my fires will wane

and extinguish the fortitude

that first sent me on this journey.

——

 

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Dog Wants to Go (and Other Haikus)

Family Photos

I dug through the stacks

of dusty family photos

with eyes dripping tears.

 

New Shoes

A black and white mesh

stained an unexpected red

when I tripped running.

 

Little Wings

The little blue bird

beats its wings against the wind;

braving the tempest.

 

Breaking Fast

I woke with an ache

to hear eggs popping in grease

from bacon drippings.

 

Dog Wants to Go

I reach for the door

and hear his paws scampering

in hopes of coming.

——

 

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Cat Greetings (and Other Haikus)

Voyager

The bark slid down stream

as though it was sailing off

to a brighter shore.

 

Exhaustion

The glaze on my eyes

fades the golden hues to gray

with each grudging breath.

 

Finishing a Book

The letters trail

down into the empty space,

but I’m still spinning.

 

Addicted

My eyes pulled away

from the provocative screen,

pushed by unseen force.

 

Cat Greetings

Their black ears perk up

at the jostling of the door

and they pad closer.

——

 

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FIFTY WORD STORY – A Path Diverged

It was at the fork in the road that I left them behind. They found the foliage too indistinct; too indecisive, while I thought the western road was more deserving. The autumn leaves rolled through the wind as I trod that path, and they waited for someone better to come.

——

 

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