Means accepting mastery
While expecting flaws.
A big city life
Means compromising your space
For promised culture.
Through the dappled wood:
Our footsteps a steady beat
Accented with breath.
Sundays are the best
When Monday is not in sight.
Save work for Tuesday.
Celebrations in order
To recall great lives.
The shoes of adults
Are not meant for the barefoot;
Laces too binding.
Darkest before dawn,
The deep breath after the sobs.
Come on. Time to work.
Lots and lots of wings:
A Pittsburgh delicacy
Best served in small hills.
Sushi for dinner
And a Target run for fun?
May springs into grass,
Forget looking for it now.
June? Rabbit rabbit.
Only Pittsburgh can
Make a walk in the rain seem
So damn idyllic.
Old friends and bookends.
Then, some ultraviolence,
A side of strong girls.
More sweet than the to do list
Growing longer still.
My body is this:
Spurned girlfriend at the window,
Hurling items down.
The changes sneak up,
Suddenly making you think
Time is a mirage.
Here come the dark clouds —
They best not be writing checks
Their asses can’t cash.
Trying for new starts
On days when the wind blows hard
How long could it take
For the relief of a chill
To become a curse?
When is hard too hard?
When you sink to the bottom?
Or the dead man’s float?
I am the glow cloud.
Watching, waiting, vigilant.
Welcome to Night Vale.
Happy Mothers Day! #10 is for moms, but especially mine.
After my hair grays,
And autonomy goes dark,
Send a robot bod.
Big light, groggy start.
A touch of panic sets in.
Dude, don’t stress me out.
Sweet relief, pay day,
Though reckoning is at hand:
Bills, a grown-up waste.
The sun glowers down.
Hateful thing because it knows
My words make us cool.
I thank Mom for this,
A life that knows no limit,
Full of adventure.
Over the past few months, I’ve been doing challenges. In March, it was 30 Lists. In April, 30 Doodles (you can view those on my Instagram). In May, I’m doing 30 Photos and 30 Haikus. I’ll be sharing my haikus here in groups of 5 each weekish, and you can view the photos on my Instagram account. Let’s get started.
The emerald leaves
Blaze against May’s promised storm,
Sun still feels a-chill.
Bright paper pages,
Ramen in the afternoon —
A weekend’s delight.
Groceries at dawn,
Thousands of feet pounding down.
Still life, meet motion.
The Light Side and Dark
Two sides of a galaxy:
Knights and nights go on.
Steaming rain in hair
And silent tears when no air
Can survive the heat.
Remember back in September when I told y’all about the chapbook I put together? It’s now for sale on Amazon! The paperback should be out soon (within a day or so) but you can pick up a copy on Kindle for $3!
Last night, I got to attend a delightful event put on by Hyacinth Girl Press for their release of “Free Monster Poems About Monsters.” It was very awesome and featured a number of extremely talented writers and performers. During the open mic section, I read the following poem that I wrote for the occasion.
I see you there. I’m not afraid.
Your thick skin, the webbing between your fingers and toes.
The soft moon pale of your teeth, the shimmer of your scales,
And I count five tentacles and the remains of one more, only a stump
Your eyes, bright crimson lava when I come to bed
And the almost gray cracks of gold coals when I awaken
You were there, so full of mirth and bemused age, when I would drag my mother to stay with me until I fell asleep,
You were there, silent guardian of the underbelly of night, when I cried alone when she was gone
You were there, trying to decipher this curiosity, when I woke up thighs thick with first blood
You were there when I was on top, crowing yes
You were there when I was on my back, saying no
And that was when I hated you
I couldn’t get away from the stink of you, the wretched ragged in-out of breath,
Ugly dog that followed me to school, from apartment to condo to house
I left my hand over the edge, waiting for you to grab it, pull me to hell with you
But you didn’t
I found you redeemed the day that a man I had in my home one too many times
Who always used his words like a bat, the drink for his brazen fists,
Then, only then, there you were
All balrog, all manticore, all demon, dark and furious
The blood on my hands was hot enough for both of us
We had our fill
Now, I invite you out freely
You’re too good for the cobwebbed bed
You are my personal monster
The clack of my heels compliments your claws
My eyes shine now in the dark as well
We slither through this darkness as one
And we feast on this world together.
I blow on the bubble wand twenty-nine times
And each string of opalescent considerations
Floats out and away
And while some catch in updrafts
Others head over to the neighbor’s yard
With whom I have had a limited number of interactions
And I imagine a police car zipping up to the curb and being told
From the sidewalk
“Ma’am, we’ve gotten some complaints about bubbles.”
And I say
“If people have so little to worry about in their lives
That they have time to be concerned about
More air than substance
There but for the grace of God go them.”
Speaking of which
As I’m standing in the gray evening of
Twenty degrees below usual
Milkweed drifts in
Following the same path as the crystalline orbs
And I can’t tell the difference between them in the fading daylight
So I feel a bit better
Knowing I’m not the only one trying to have a little fun.