Michael
He hurts me.
Every.
Single.
Day.
He hurts me.
I can’t stop forgiving him.
I tried for three years.
I can’t stop.
At the end of every day,
He is the one I want to talk to.
Prompt 16, Hour 16
Flight Talk
Atlanta, London, Greece and back
To London, Boston, ATL
Then, thanks to my friend, C. Black,
We flew to LAX, as well
In all the lands I’ve ever been,
There’s never been a man like you
My birthday-neighbor-lovely-djinn
Unnerving friend; respectful, true
Serendipities may mark my life when trav’ling near or gone abroad:
A banker whom I met in Greece was on a flight with me, I awed.
I met a lawyer, once, for Hollywood; I flew First Class for the first time;
I’ll credit my dad with how we met: I chatted him up in the rapid climb.
There’s something social to airline flights –
In earliest morns or in darkest nights –
With a few, short hours, one could meet
A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Yet, in the flights from here-to-there
My favorite trip will always be
One home to you, who simply cared
To meet my flight and talk openly.
15 By Lift And Drag
By Lift and Drag.
~willjxn~
Lifting off from Salt Lake City,
Thrown back in my seat.
Rising over Colorado.
The Rocky Mountains blink.
There are no signs that say,
Now leaving Kansas city,
“now entering “show me” state.
The borders blur.
The Mississippi snakes its way below me.
I know I am halfway there.
The rivers are much bigger,
The Mountains, much smaller.
The landing not so memorable.
The humidity, intense.
I walk into the airport.
I’m standing in the “First Flight” state.
My first flight for me.
The first flight,
for Orville and Wilber
On their Wright Flyer.
By lift and drag,
In the time it takes,
Utah, to home in Colorado,
I land in Charlette, North Carolina.
When I got wings
Everyone looked so small,
I saw the clouds so closely,
Windows seat, always favorite,
Want to see how high I fly,
The world looks little from above,
Its problems too becomes small,
Its almost like getting wings,
Flying towards your destination…
Prompt 16 hour 16
you hold my heart with two hands while yours is beating out of your chest
Prompt 6: Ideal Day
I walk in silence, no roaring in the sky but night air: s t i l l n e s s
I take off my sweater to feel the cool air, I’m in the backyard, hearing the tang of the birdcalls. I swear they must be singing to me, exclaiming how beautiful the night is and questioning if I smell the water as I near it.
yes. it is a sickness to leave no holes in walls. [hour 15]
yes.
it is a sickness to leave no holes in walls.
a note:
leaving holes in the shape of fists
is a related separate sickness;
perhaps they will be cross-referenced in the next DSM.when you yell
and it breaks nothing or not enough
or you worry
your fist will hit something more human than drywall
those holes too say:
Here Is a Person Who Does Not Know How To Touch The World
i have only always lived in:
a perpetual state of financial insecurity;
perpetual fear of losing my security deposit;
not many square feet to start with and
an ever-narrowing window of time before the lease runs out.
i fear and wonder that
i may never live
in a home
i own. by which i mean:
Prompt 16, Hour 16
Write a poem about love, without ever using the word love in it.
Nights Toast (Poem 15)
Toast to the night
It’s a big fight
I wonder who will win
Is it you or the wind
Toast to the night
When all that matters is bright
Restless days it’s always!
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