LOVE POEM #110 – Waypoint

Waypoint

 

We are at our tented waypoint,

in between the washed out houses

and the rushing sounds of water,

wondering what will oust us next:

 

A wind shattering the windows

at our secondary safe house

or swells within the muddy floods

that crest our mental riverbanks.

——

 

Hello there!

 

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MUSIC SERIES – The Miner

This poem was inspired by Heart of Gold by Neil Young! Have a song you think I should write about? Let me know in the comments!

 

The Miner

 

You will find me here in the darkness

with a dirt-stained shirt and dust-filled lungs

hacking away at an endless wall

like the dreamer lost in his black sea.

 

Suddenly, our earthen ocean shakes;

the waves of clay wrack with a madness

and we drowned in its torrents of dredge

with hearts ever set on the sunshine.

——

 

Hello there!

 

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MUSIC SERIES – Ripples

This poem was inspired by Electric Counterpoint 1 – Fast (Steve Reich) by Joergen Brilling. It’s a pretty minimalist song, but I highly encourage you check it out.

 

Ripples

 

They always rush from place to place,

running through the proverbial current.

Every steps is a drop in the water;

a thunderstorm raining down on their lives.

 

They flood the streets; drown the plazas

until the pittering of feet on concrete

is indistinguishable from the pattering

of sleet against the windowpanes.

——

 

Hello there!

 

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Hungry Cat (and Other Haikus)

Introverted

Sometimes I will hide

underneath layers of skin

like clams in their shell.

 

Touch

We touched fingertips

like wisps of wind to a tree.

Now my heart won’t stop.

 

Sleepless

Sliding down the stairs

of a sleepless night’s torment

into a sick noose.
Brainstorm

Like Zeus’s lightning

thundering in the neurons

struck a mental home.

 

Hungry Cat

I know that you’re mad

but there’s no need to maw me

while I get your food.

——

 

Hello there!

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PANCAKES (AND OTHER HAIKUS)

Windy Night

Wind disturbs the leaves

yet it is not the trees who

search for a reprieve.

 

Onlookers

From the kitchen door,

I catch pairs of tiny eyes

peeking through the pane.

 

Better Red

Roses in autumn

remind trees who lost their green

the beauty of red.

 

Serendipity

I most enjoy walks

through these warm, grassy fields

carrying my shoes.

 

Pancakes

The syrup drips down

the sides of her tender wrists

as she lifts her fork.

——

Hello there!

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THE EARTH IS STILL

Oh hey! Happy New Year–and happy birthday to me 🙂 A little apocalypse to usher in the new year is always a good sign, right? I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I’ll be enjoying today 😉

 

The Earth is Still

 

The Earth is still.

No more do the tremors

that racked the mountainside

rage through the bones of this wasted land.
Once flowered rivers, who flowed with the heat of spring

—that same heat which pulsed through the heart,

igniting the veins like sparks to a fire,

now lies pierced; cracked and dead as the unending desert.

 

The last lake, dwindled down to a blackened puddle,

sits undisturbed in the silence;

a mirror to these starless nights

painted with brushstrokes of infinite darkness

 

and yet, a trembling lingers.

It sits, in the back of the cavern;

twisting the thumbs of a half-buried corpse

while it whispers into the great beyond.

——

 

Hello there!

 

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THE HERD (AND OTHER HAIKUS)

The Herd

Beats in the distance

echo along the sunrise

like a veiled drum.

 

Grass

The shift of the blades

as wind washes through the plain

warns of life’s battles.

 

On Water

Walking through puddles

reminds me to imagine

my own miracles

 

Cleansing

Rain can wash away

the bad days. It’s up to you

to let it take them.

 

Night Driving

The trip was swallowed

in the abyss of the night

on the desert road.

——

Hello there!

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A WALK IN A STORM

Soooo I realized I really like these 50 word stories. They’re short, simple, and yet really difficult to do well. So I think I’m going to continue doing them sometimes to improve more. 🙂 here’s this week’s:

A Walk in a Storm

Being pelted with rain made for a weary walk. The flashes of lightning in the distance patterned the sky like dancers moving in sharp, jagged motions. I felt water beginning to soak through my gloves, yet when I squeezed my fists there was nothing but rhythmic determination to continue farther.

——

 

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GALE (AND OTHER HAIKUS)

Privacy

I sat on a bench

confessing love, while a bird

watched me from a branch.

 

Regrowth

The patch of green grass

growing from dead dirt reminds

that life will go on.

 

Narcissus

They were so busy

staring at their reflections

they missed the white fish.

 

Disown

A doll made of sticks

lies in shambles in the dirt

as the girl stomps off.

 

Gale

A wind this restless

engulfs the valley in fear.

Even the stones shake.

——

 

Hello there!

 

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LOVE POEM #66 – HERE COMES THE STORM

It always starts with the clouds

seeping in after a long day’s work.

You won’t spot them,

as you mutter about the dishes,

if you don’t look out the window.

 

Your morning of watery coffee

and soggy granola will grow damp

when you go to rinse your bowl

and catch their cup on the counter,

left, empty, in the hustle to their car.

 

Then it’s your turn to pop the cover

on your two-person umbrella

and slog down the road, lost

in the downpour of your own thoughts.

 

Work will hide the sounds of the storm.

The pencil scratches drown out your personal life,

and only the occasional crack of lightning

will shock you from your presentation.

 

But the walk home finds a tempest in full motion,

the wind, the rain, and the river flooding the sidewalk

choke out all other thoughts, and all you can focus on

is that goddamn cup they left on the counter again

sitting expectantly, for you to clean up.

——

 

Hello there!

 

Did you like this poem? Let me know by leaving a like and a comment!

Want to keep up-to-date on all my posts? Follow my blog!

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Instagram: @cassadyblog

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