Tag Archives: poetry

Grasp Reflex [Common Meter]

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Der Untergang der Titanic
A white-knuckled grip on the rail,
  though the ship is sinking.
 The brain insists one hold tightly;
   there's no mind for thinking.

A samaritan pries at your
  fist, but it will not budge.
 In giving up, he feels guilty --
   conscience jury and judge.

You couldn't wedge just a single breath
  to crack a space for thought.
 A simple thing it is to let go,
   but look what fear has wrought.

A quarter million tons now drags
  you to the cold, dark depths.
 Until the body's unthinking 
   gasp of watery breath.

The hand lets go, but still you sink
  trapped by your last mistake.
 The tragedy of a grasp reflex 
   that you could not break.

A Life Improbable [Free Verse]

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Each of us lives a life improbable,
 the gift of an ancestor who struggled 
 through some terror which killed others.

We each have an iron impulse 
 to maintain a cracking grip on life,
 but some won't ever be pried away,

growing like the stunted pine
 that juts from the mountainside:
 gnarled but indestructible.

Live improbably 
 with your life improbable.

Jet Plane [Haiku]

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in early summer,
 i left home. i’ve been back,
  but never returned.

Bliss Step [Haiku]

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i kick a pebble
 from my sandal,
  and take a bliss step.

Wasp Moves [Haiku]

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the wasp is still;
 the wasp jinks erratically.
  pilgrims break sanctity.

Bougainvillea Bright [Haiku]

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from the dark, cool room,
 the sunlit bougainvillea
  burns shapes in my sight

Seasons [Free Verse]

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I

I remember Spring:
   tight and tender buds,
   soon to blossom

clouds -- low & swollen, 
   & rain scent in the air
II

I remember Summers:
   the season of freedom...

and mosquitoes,
   but, also, fireflies

exploration &
   calamine lotion
III

I remember the Fall:
   harvest time

Grain chaff in the air
   axle grease on the wind

Canadian geese
   Honk-Honk-Honk-ing
   in wedge formation
IV

I remember winters:
   snow days

snow drifts

the feel of the first morning
    of the season in which
    one woke up to a blanketing snow,
    having gone to bed with 
    pathetic matted grass

Night Colors [Free Verse]

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It's dark.

But the neon burns,
   and bright signs
   color the night,

and that color
   shines against wet surfaces.

The color seems to float,
   and when I walk past
   it shifts, morphs, and flows,

becoming alive.

And it -- those bright primary colors --
   might just be creeping towards me
   like a killer kindergarten clown.

I turn to see the colors swirling,
   swirling but not advancing.

I stare into the color paisleys 
   as they dance yin-yang do-si-do's
   around the puddle.
  
I'm entranced & soothed,
   and no longer fear
   the colors will attack,
   turning me vibrant.