horses graze up a green hillside as rain threatens
Horses [Haiku]
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Tag Archives: poem
Midnight Circus [Free Verse]
The Midnight Circus was not as it seemed. It was bright colors: motion-blurred. It was the tinny monotony of music box-style tinkling tunes & organ tones. One could even make out the scent of fried foods and cotton candy, among the many other [uncircus-like] odors. But there was also the story a mind wrote to dance sensory facts into sensory fictions; that was where the falsity lie. If one opened one's eyes, letting them focus: there'd be sparking wires, & flames licking ever closer. The shrill organ tones would become screams. The summer night's humid heat would become third degree burns. The circus smells would become dust and death and acrid burnt combustibles. So, he didn't open his eyes to war or his impending demise, but let his mind march into that big musty, canvas tent, surrendering to its irreality.
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Drunkard’s Walk [Haiku]
a drunkard strolls, reciting mangled poetry: streetlamp as spotlight
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Thermoclines in the Park [Free Verse]
Running through the park, in the light of the rising sun, I pass through a band of cool air, and a little later, pass through a band of warm, humid air. And, I wonder whether I'm having a stroke. Isn't physics supposed to push the warm air over into the cold, or pull the cold air over into the warm, or both, and to keep doing so until the air temperature is an undifferentiated mass? Had I stumbled into a glitch in the Matrix? Was the simulated weather breaking down? Why was thermodynamics misbehaving? I had so many questions, but so few answers. And so many miles to go.
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Mustard Gas Memories [Tanka]
the peachy glow of haze in the sunset stirs up fear & mustard gas memories among the old-timers
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Simplify [Free Verse]
One item per day was abandoned until living got hard. But like Diogenes -- who gave up his cup upon seeing a boy slurping from cupped palms -- eventually, it all was gone. Each item hand-weighed, its weight against is usefulness, and all were found expendable.
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Ripe Rice [Haiku]
fields of ripe rice stretch to the horizon to meet smoky skies
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Spring Flowers [Haiku]
spring blossoms - damp from passing showers - droop, but stay bright
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Propaganda [Common Meter]
The words were whispered down the line, but changed at every turn. Some words were written down in time, but gathered up to burn. And no one knew unvarnished truth -- only some stray excerpts. They tried to cobble together the judgments of experts. But truth was not to be retrieved by way of slick guesses and in the end all they had left were their burning messes.
