Going With The Tides A Haiku Pair Loneliness sometimes lingers like cold in your bones and damp in your soul, even when the tides that washed it up have long since moved to other shores.
On the Distribution of One’s Heart
On the Distribution of One’s Heart (A Haiku Quintet) I had given my heart to someone who didn’t know how to hold it. Instead, they cradled it like an adolescent with a stranger’s child: awkward and uneasy, with a fear of falling head first and snapping. I gave my heart to someone who didn’t quite want it and was surprised when they gave it back. They said to keep it safe, but their fingers left bruises.
Death Throes
Morbid fascination kills me again and again. These are the death throes Of our potential. This is the not the martyrdom I try to tell myself it is. It is assisted suicide. Nor is it the first time- Reincarnation ad nauseam, Same me, different yous- Till nirvana: A state I cannot reach. It sickens me, The way I crave Your attentions. Like Tantalus I thirst And am never satisfied. You bloom perpetual While I fade like echoes. Jeweled fruit that fall From your lips Into my ears Sweet fruit, biting aftertaste, Like soured wine to the dying man, Leaves me…
Carnival Poem I
(I’m not dead). Carnival Poem I The music whips you into mania And the sweat of the masses incites to ecstasy If religion is the opiate, This is the tonic. Sweet like cascadoo, Rush of power like cocaine, Addictive like morphine. We are the vessels The street is the vein Infecting all with Wuk-up-yuh-waist-osis And free-up-yuh-self-itis. It is a chronic epidemic Where the only cure Is to succumb to the disease; More riddim, More kaiso, More tempo.
Frustration
I’ve been feeling it so long I’ve forgotten it’s name. It comes and it goes, Like the tide With its ebbs and flows, Like the moon It waxes and wanes, It is never really gone, Just lingering behind sight, Lulling with monotony Like waves crashing Against the shore, Till I’m waist-deep In despair, waiting To cycle out.
Ode
*NOTE* this has been edited. and i’m much happier with the edit. Ode Your voice is sweet and slow like honey dripping off a spoon, And the way your lips caress each word; parting is such sweet sorrow. Your scent intoxicates my being With its murmurs of power, Hints of vice And the lingering notes of fixation. Your pendulum see saw hips hypnotize my eyes So I play right into your smile When our eyes meet, time moves poco rit, As you weave your spell on me And when we touch, the heat crescendos, my heart beats staccato allegro And…
Fruition
(Clearly i’m on a roll today! must be the no sleep). The words form like fruit in the tree of the mind, If left too long, the birds of distraction Peck away, leaving only, and even then Only perhaps, a husk to make more fertile grounds. Pick it too soon and hope against hope As you force it to ripen that comes out right, But the skin is too green and the flavor is wrong, Though sometimes you can catch it at Just the right time, and nurture it in a Paper bag, and when it is ready, Even through…
Insomnia
They promised that insomnia Would bring words Like long awaited rain, But instead it Keeps you awake too late With your distractions And makes you miss your thoughts, Then sleep long enough For the days To seem one. Insomnia only brings Diversions, Frivolity And agitation, And when that Wears you out, A sleep too black For thought to thrive. Insomnia doesn’t bring rain; It is the storm grey Cloud that teases And threatens, Then flitters away Whispering promises To come another day.
The Journey
The move from mind to pen, pen to paper, paper to keyboard, Word to world, Is a journey where thoughts are lost found replaced like baggage. Filled with love hate need. The need to be read shared understood. They cannot stay under wraps under your wing underappreciated. If you love them, begin the journey, set them free.
New Frontier
So funny story about this poem… The timestamp for the creation is the 5th of august 2008. See what had happened was I started this poem and just never finished it… I couldn’t quite find the direction I wanted it to go in, until one night, the fevers of writing possessed my brain, (lol whut??), and it came to me. And so on the 22rd of September 2010, in the late hours of the night, I finally freakin’ finished the poem. And here it is in it’s longsuffering glory. The title is a work in progress. Give it a year…