Every Word
February 7, 2014 § Leave a comment
every word
and story written
penned
etched on paper
can be read in daylight
by any searching eye
but the pure, tragic
emotion, the space
between lines,
the breath unheard
that gulps
and swallows
dialogue and meaning
before it can stain
the pen’s canvas
will only ever
begin to be
understood
not by the one who studies
the text, but
by the one
who holds
the pen
Sunday Morning Kitchen
February 3, 2014 § Leave a comment
it’s a blinding light cast
across the wooden floor
sending a sky full of dancing dust
upward and spinning
it’s a cup of black warmth and steam
between my palms
with some cinnamon because
my dad always makes it that way
it’s a soft paper floating
from hand-to-hand
dancing around the table
so everyone can catch-up on the news
it’s the refrigerator’s gentle hum
a heated stove-top whistling
a gurgle from the dishwasher
a beautiful appliance symphony
it’s a proud glass window
with fingerprints illuminated
showing off the outside landscape
shining light on our eggs
standing on my backporch at eleven pm after a snow storm
January 31, 2014 § Leave a comment
silence and a soft cold
the yellow landscape
tricks eyes into thinking
it’s dusk, highlighting objects
that go unnoticed most nights
at eleven pm
and a whispering echo
moving from north to south
gently lifts moisture from the ground
glittering
and moving quickly
like a school of frozen
fish in a pond
of yellowy light
it sends ice on a journey
of purposeful patterns
of bending and swirling
and pieces too small to see
touch your face
their cold surface pricking you
for only a second
before melting away
to another place.
Beginning
January 30, 2014 § Leave a comment
did it start at Genesis
at the ABC
or at the very beginning
of the end
with hope
on the right foot
stepping from number one
or a countdown
from ten did it start
at first-things-first
or slow and steady wins
and second is the best
when the good guys
finish last or was it
the chicken or the egg
a Big Bang that cut
the ribbon
at the line
signaling a small start
with a sunrise
in a new chapter
breaking the ground
of a page turn
at the omniscient alpha
just before the fresh tomorrow
that’s dancing
like there isn’t one
was that exactly and precisely
where it started
and where
it all began
first date conversation
January 29, 2014 § Leave a comment
thoughts and words
spewing
responding
considerations
and emotions
one after another
breathless
urgent
hurried
and then
an ended phrase
a breath taken
and exhaled
stillness
then silence
a blank stare
a closed mouth
a blink
a smile
empty space
red face
no match of phrase
legs shift
hands cross
ears burn
a yawn
brain searching
signals crossing
words lost
in an over-trodden
forest of the universal
awkward silence
Advice
January 28, 2014 § 1 Comment
If you’re uninspired,
why don’t you write a haiku?
my dad suggested.
Unknown
January 27, 2014 § Leave a comment
the unknown is incredible
and mystery is remarkable
and should be embraced as unequivocal
for if everything were explainable
then love would be too logical
and the stars wouldn’t be as magical
dreams might become impossible
and new life wouldn’t be so wonderful
while wishes may turn improbable
and who would want to live in a world
so completely rational?
the chaos is to be embraced
lets celebrate the implausible.
Existence
January 26, 2014 § Leave a comment
Standing with your forehead facing west
your feet sinking slowly
into the watery sand
and your eyes trained on the brightest star
falling lazily from the sky
sinking slowly like your toes
into the shimmering mouth of the sea
that awaits hungrily below to swallow the day,
it’s at that moment, when the star seems to rest,
for just a bit, on horizon’s edge
and a line of light traces where the silky pool
meets the sky,
and earth’s edge,
perfectly curved and round, appears
and for a second
you remember
you’re standing on a planet
floating in a galaxy of rocks
among a vast confusion
of time and light
in a foreign universe of matter
dark and violent
enigmatic
and miraculous
and then you blink again,
and it’s nighttime
and you’re back on earth.
Soccer Ball Piggy Bank
January 20, 2014 § Leave a comment
The ceramic container is dependable,
if nothing else. But it is something else.
It’s the shape of a soccer ball,
actually, it is a soccer ball.
But it’s ceramic,
and has never been kicked or stained with grass.
It stands there, or sits there, I’m not sure which one,
but like I said, it’s dependable, as most ceramic objects are.
It has held my coins since I was eight. Sturdy and decorative.
Being pumped with change, instead of air.
But every year, being completely deflated
of the treasures it holds so still and careful,
emptied aggressively with loud banging and clanging
and shaking upside down.
Its contents spilling out onto the floor
for the world to see. A meager compensation
for a years worth of dependability.
The sturdy container, now emptied of its worth,
its pride, is set back onto its perch
next to a flowered picture frame
and a rock shaped like a turtle,
where it will sit for another year
being dependable, but forgotten,
its contents losing value
and then spilling out onto the floor.
rosepoems 