Thursday, June 30, 2011

Really meant to, but...

Parting ways

Never learned the art
of saying goodbye
so you just sat watching
trying not to whine
as your friends leave
one after another,
giving their reasons (

it's late

I've got work tomorrow,
I've got another date
with another group
of friends. Baby's waiting

for me

) and not liking any
of it; reluctantly,
you accept
that it's okay

              sad smile

              see you next time



and smile at your shared vision
of another gathering
everyone means to make true

if time allows; still
in the moment,


gently interupted
by a waiter asking
if you would like
another cup of tea,
you realise, you


must be going too.

This poem was in part provoked by Sxethang's photo "Plenty of Seats".

 Submitted for Thursday Poets Rally Week 47.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Fragment or fractured?

Recalling a shade

Kicked a rusty paint can
while walking
through a shortcut:

it rolled
clattering down
the path,


down to the grassy patch
where our house once stood;

nothing is left except for
a pile of wooden legs
from a broken chair
and a scattering of dull
emerald shards from
a window pane.

Apple white --
that's his favorite color;

it doesn't work
for the walls,
gives the walls
the light shade of

green apples,
the kind that makes
your teeth ache
with its citric juices.

I've forgotten why
my dad liked
apples (and apple-

so much. I kicked it
again and it broke,
showering little
rusty pieces all
over my shoe;

there'll be a road going
through this place next year,
no one will remember
there was a house here.

(Idea for this piece from HVP's photo "Real Life Grunge")

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Childhood memories of playing with sand

Sand Kingdom

Coarse sand on our play
pretend beach, little

grains that
fall in heavy clumps
through our soft fingers,

we scooped them up
with sun-yellow spades
and packed them into
pails of danger red;

we worked, sweat
on our backs and necks,
digging, molding walls,
bases and towers
under the monkey bars
and swings; over

and over, we packed
and overturned mounds
to build fortresses
and castles;

but as you were stabbing
murder holes with a twig,
an entire tower collapsed.

“Make it again!”

and I did; another wall
crumpled under the sun.
It's all falling apart

but we didn't stop, we
kept at it until the sun left
pink and orange ribbons
on the horizon, until

our mother hollered for us
from the window above
our crumpling kingdom
“come home now!”

Idea for this came out of HVP's photo "Colors of Summer"

Submitted for Thursday Poets Rally Week 46.

Friday, June 17, 2011



Piles of broken
bricks and metal
beams, smokey
remnants of a dead
fire, rusted

pieces sticking
out pleading for
one more chance
to be useful; one

ash-white dove
perched atop
a twisted
fire escape ladder

watches the skies
for hawks.

Inspired by Sxethang's photo "Upstairs Lookout".

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

House reptile


naked on the wall;

I take it you've
caught the flies
last night; devoured
them blue and green
whole shell, wings
and all; no

thanks for the mess.

tsk tsk tsk

Monday, June 13, 2011


Hive mentality

We are a hive; we live
in tall crowded towers
with many other
worker bees
serving a queen
we call Necessities.
We move in swarms
every morning to work,
every evening to shops
for supplies, then home
to rest, recharge
for the labors to come.
We do not question
life: we slave
for the good of the hive.

This is my contribution for Poetry Potluck Monday  at Jingle Poetry.

edit1: changed the poem.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Where did it go?


It's a bee in my room
or was it a wasp?

I'm confused,
you all look the same,
all i see is the yellow
and black lines

of yellow and black
yellow black yellow
and black lines;
buzzing machine

blades beating against
the florescent light,

now, where did you go?

(I did in fact spend quite a while looking for that bee/wasp that was in my room, overturning pillows and blankets, beating the shirts that were hung by the door. I did open the windows, but I had to be sure it wasn't still hiding somewhere. It looked dangerous. Probably was a wasp.)

Friday, June 10, 2011

a bad apple

why can't we discard a bad friend
like we discard a bad apple --

(into the garbage
with the bad eggs and bad ham

instead of making excuses
: it's still red
: it's still sweet
: it still has a good side)

holes, entrances to a twisted
maze tunneling to the core;

a worm rears its pink head
mocking us when we try to be polite,
then burrows back into the flesh
and spits out the seeds.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Why life, although similiar, is not as fun as puzzle games.

Settled Pools of Rainwater Swirling with Rainbows

Present to me a puzzle layout made of mud
and water, how to get from here to home,
before the dark clouds gather --

a step
this way, a zag that
way, one step
              to the right,
an inch to the
left; yet despite tactics
and care, I nearly slipped

on the edge
of a clear one over there --

but fortune blessed--

I stopped myself
after an awkward dance,
posing for a moment
like an odd palm. Frozen

in this lesson. I've learnt.
Lightly on a leaf.
Surely on a rocky bit.

Thought I finally had it down
until that last step – one more

to the tarmac.

Toe and all into the mire,
muck up to the laces,
pants half ruined,
splattered silt everywhere;

this is where I should
give up, reload
to get all my stars

but there's no going back,
no undo, no restart.

(Inspired by HVP's photo "Reflections")


As if my name doesn't sound emo enough...

Someone mentioned that me and someone else seem to like black for our blogs. To be honest, that black scheme was a tad bit too dark. So maybe this is a little less gloomy.

Friday, June 3, 2011


Forgot to eat
until hunger pulled me
from my sleep

went down to the bakery
hoping to hook
a donut or two

all I got was holes

forgot it was tuesday
they're closed

(Inspired by Sxethang's photo "Disappointment")

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Upon seeing fallen leaves

so much dead leaves fallen
after a storm

dear tree, is this why
you reach your arms

dare the thundering clouds
shake against the razor winds

risk your self being struck

and split
down the middle
by Zeus' bright spear

after an assault
by the hammering rain

the sun crowns you
and you are dressed
in bright verdant scales,
and at your feet
a halo of gold
from yellow and brown.