American Sonnet

On the Innocence of Childhood

Braided hair, sticky pb & j lunch
fidgeting with buttons, anxious to run
outside for a scheduled thirty minutes
see-saw, tetherball, soccer or foursquare
jump rope, tag, or monkey in the middle
jungle gym, parallel bars, down the slide
lay in the grass, under cherry blossoms
spring wind, pink petals landing on our skin

Until the aide blows her high pitched whistle
then we must line up according to class
unfit and unwilling soldiers return
to rooms with many windows to look through.

E.Y. Harburg

My heart wants roots
My mind wants wings
I cannot bear their bickerings

February 24, 2013

Tragedy and beauty

coincide automatically

lay side by side

trace each other's shapes;

star crossed lovers

doomed by destiny

Catcher in the Rye

"I knew it wasn't too important, but it made me sad anyway."

Coordinates

Where we are is where we are supposed to be

listen to that, repeat it, let it be a mantra;

flashlight in the tunnel of 

desperate longing

Entangled

Self pity 

is such an easy

trap to fall into;

devil’s snare.

Inner Monologue

Guys, it’s an ampersand

Not a fancy “E”

Possesions

We have this idea 

that people are ours

They belong to us

When they die we ask

why God took them away

Really, they were always His

Peace in the Night

Child sleeping

life in miniature form

Trusting the outside world

enough to close both eyes

Efforts to stay awake, futile;

play is such hard work

Afternoon Tea

Sips of Chai
small waves reaching
toward lips of sand

Cardamom and cloves
rest on the tongue
after waves recede

Takes my mind home
toward Christmas traditions
Mom's vitebrod, dry this year

She apologizes despite
the plate being empty
and laughter full

Valentine's Day

Background Noise
What's another love poem?
What are words to the ineffable?
It's not something to be defined;
but felt, experienced, given
This poem won't change anyone's mind
about love or anything of the sort
What the heck. Here you go.
Here's another love poem.


Wrapped
I don't have anyone in particular
to be my special Valentine
but I do have many lovers
and many people whom I love
Most of them are not with me
They live parallel lives to mine
With intersecting moments
when we're together
Individual strands of yarn and
stitches in a hand knit blanket
cocoon my body while
I am unconsciously dreaming



Former People
Ancient Egyptians believed
the heart was the center of being,
not the brain
They also worshiped cats and
built the pyramids
Pretty intelligent people, I'd say

There is a River

Catch my creek of sadness
and make it a tributary of love
in my reality and my mind

Monday

The alarm pierced my dreams
and reined me back into reality
Neck sore and back stiff
my hand, unsure but determined,
searched for the alarm clock
to silence its fury
Opening my eyes, I could see
nothing but gray shapes
that would've reminded me of
monsters when I was little
Yawning, my face scrunched
and I opened my mouth
baring two rows of teeth
resembling a mighty lion
complete with crazy mane
But this lion was not ready
to face the day, that awful day
called Monday

Image response poems

Amanda's Poem:

Flight
Your heart pumped gently
under the curvature of my ear;
wings beating, low and deep

Response:

Before I go to bed, I come

to say goodnight by

gently cracking open the door

seeing that you are still awake 

I kiss your whiskery cheek and 

give you a long hug, listening to

the heart that gave me mine

Short Image Poems

Frozen wind licks at my exposed skin
Forcing my eyes to stare at the ground 


The mushroom colored clay spins furiously 
only to eventually submit to a pair of hands


I just can't take people seriously


Earphones in their proper place
whisper delicate chords and 
barricade my mind 


Peanut butter is stuck to the roof of my mouth 
a dog in a human body


The streetlights illuminate my path
while glitter falls from the sky
and gathers on the ground
like icing on a really big cake

Spears of ice anchor onto gutters and windowsills 

February 1, 2013

We live five hours away

for most of the year, now

It’s 10 degrees colder where I am

and familiar where you are

but our hearts pump the same blood

that was given to us by our parents

intertwined with cells we’ve made on our own

‘as a constant reminder of where I can find her’