Poems use me as a tool to write themselves. They appear in different voices, as if they were written by different people. They probably are! And I love each one as if it was my own child.
Angel Kitty
Angel kitty, with your fur so soft,
Dozing in the sun,
Purring on and off.
If you spoke English
I would open the door for you
And I would tell you
To run as far and as fast as you could
To some place with no people.
But you would just cry
Until someone let you back in.
Angel kitty, enjoy this last short day
For tonight you will be skinned
For that sadist’s pleasure.
Villanelle: To My Many
Memories resting on the sidelines
Ever present, never seen
One is many, many one.
Clothed in shades of tawn and russet
Decaying thoughts and fading blood
Memories resting on the sidelines.
Tawn and russet crusted bodies
All the same and all unique
One is many, many one.
Just below an opaque surface
Firmly past still yet present
Memories resting on the sidelines.
Slide along, you russet alters,
Your beings blend in tawny grace
One is many, many one.
Every alter once a body
Every body binding time
Memories resting on the sidelines
One is many, many one.
What the World Should Know
World, I just live here
I’m not in charge of keeping track of your assignments
And I cannot do them for you.
I am supposed to live my own life
And you are supposed to live yours,
As are all living things.
But since you asked,
(Not that anybody will listen to me)
I will say it as I see it.
It is not necessary to take pleasure in cruelty.
You can take off your black robes,
Wash the blood from your face and hands,
Untie your victims and give them water,
Walk together into the sunlight.
Your nations can come together and talk,
Give up suicide bombs, land mines, trade sanctions,
Stop starving children and making them soldiers and sex slaves.
Destruction is not necessary and never has been.
World, I know a few things.
Like how to cook an egg, how to grow a plant,
How to get through every day when the body is broken
And the heart is breaking,
How to live without killing, raping, plundering,
How much better life is without hatred and sadism.
Believe me, if I can learn that, it’s not all that hard.
World, you are older and more experienced than I am.
You must have thought of all this.
So tell me, World,
What is wrong with peace?
Haiku are a lot of fun to write! Younger parts get a kick out of them.
They are only three lines: The first and last lines are five syllables and the middle one is seven syllables. Classic haiku have a twist in the last line – it changes the point of view, but it still fits, still makes sense.
Morning
Sunlight on my face.
Quick! Help! Where am I today?
My blanket meows.
Haiku Monster Speaks
me hungry all night
deep in belly need beauty
me want more haiku
BY OURSELVES | ABOUT OURSELVES | FOR OURSELVES | FOR EACH OTHER | 