Random poems I've written down this week:
Whisper little verses
of branches and ink
curiosity rolls by
and even lightening sinks
You and I are
dispersed among the ruins
trapping delight like
fireflies in a jar.
* * *
I have these things
empty things -
dining chairs, a sofa,
a guest bed -
They sit unused
inconsiderate of the space
they absorb, and they
are feuding with the
dressers, nightstands, and closets.
* * *
Immortals once danced upon these hills
and sung to the slumbering followers
on the wind the faithful were brought
whirring into electronic communication
just as isolated, just as far
as a lone hunter on the edge of a spear.
* * *
"Russian Roulette"
Back to back I stand
my selves seperate
Ten paces, ten spaces
Forward - I turn
I've never shot a gun before.
Maybe you shuffle these three and synthesize:
ReplyDeleteDispersed among the ruins
we listen to the little branches
whisper their death threats.
They are feuding with the night,
you say, as the lone streetlight
seems something poised on the edge
of a spear.
Keep this one going . . .