Haiku(s) (5)
Sometimes I am sad
Green-eyed cri de coeur hasten
down pale Irish cheeks.
When my third eye sees
the beauty of your old soul
my heart skips a beat.
Ennui as quicksand
your hand pulls me to safety
blood moon guards us both.
A High-School Junior’s Prescription for Pimples
A High-School Junior’s Prescription for Pimples
Take one each night before bedtime:
SAT score
College application
Grant application
Loan application
Acceptance letter
Rejection letter
Career Counselor Conference
Decision: commuting or residing on campus
Decision: community college or four-year university
Choosing a major
Finding a job
Saving money
Incurring Debt
Dealing with parents
Losing best friends
#5bis – Your body does the work
Your body does the work
You float away from it
You wait for something
And suddenly you see it
It joins you
You can’t say it’s good
Or bad,
You just can’t do otherwise
Your body does the work
That you cannot do
Your body is alone
When it’s not with you
You use it to bind you
To the ones around you
Always better
When they’re new
So bad they’re so blind
Even with the power lighting
Totally above true dreams
Come shine in my clues
Your body does the work
You float away from it
prompt 5 persona poem
ACID DROP
I’m a madness
At the heart
Of hate.
I’m an acid drop
From a height.
Into something
Not to be borne.
Not to be born.
E A Poe
Darkness is my light
Poetry is my pain;
Broken silence in the night
Bears my Name
Walls of decay guide my way
Brightness is a blur;
Sanity is decay
Fear is my fantasy
I write of pleasure;
I write of pain;
My tortured soul
Shall remain
As I dip my
Poison
In
the
ink
On the shelves
Behind the walls.
Death and demise
And vulture eyes,
Black cats,
Sealed caskets,
Boarded up behind the
Mortar and the bricks
In your nightmares
In your dreams
Within the bright moon beams,
I am the ticking of the clock.
John Doe (Poem 5)
I loved her
I should’ve told her
But I thought she deserved better
More than me
I thought I was giving her a chance
I could see it in her eyes
I could feel it in her spirit
The love as well as the pain
The pain I created
I yearned to make the pain go away
I could’ve made the pain go away
She took mine away
I should’ve told her I loved her
Without her my life hasn’t been the same
Now it’s too late
Contemplating irrevocable mistakes
#5 Neighbor
Clean up that yard for heaven’s sake!
Don’t you even own a rake?
It’s a useful activity, so do some weed-wacking.
But no! You take off and go back-packing.
Pay someone to do it. You could, you know.
Just don’t let those weeds grow!
Flaming Edge
Poem Five for the Hour Five
he invented the pendulum of change
welcomes each difference to create
kaleidoscope of men’s healing grounds
he is a matchstick lighting candles
of small words of the small worlds
he is a street corner of philosophy
son of S.A.P.-Socrates, Aristotle and Plato
S. who didn’t write books but gave
a rise to teacher’s teachings
A. for his long walk to the Golden Mean
a counsel in moderating things
P. with his great physique
who believed in pre-existence
and immortality of the soul
he is a Father of all fathers
not a demigod who spits feign
his mind soars the infinite horizons
his flame goes beyond
truth of all truths
he is the timeless ageless warrior
like Vulcan’s undefeated fire
(c) Ceri Naz
photo credit: http://www.mythencyclopedia.com/Tr-Wa/Vulcan.html
Panic Poem 5
Nameless
Unforeseen, sudden,
fear
heartbeat increases suddenly
breathlessness
I can’t breathe
I…can’t…breathe
Gasping, gasping for breath
Hypervigilant
Watching, watching my surroundings
I can’t move…
Nerves thrumming like guitar strings
Silver, a taste of metal in the back of my throat
Am I going crazy?
Big Talk
(Sorry, this one says some not-nice stuff. It’s about a not-nice person, and in no way reflects the views of the author. If you are uncomfortable with strong abusive language, keep scrolling.)
You know what I said, girl?
I told the sons-of-bitches they could all fuck off!
But they’re still out there, spreading lies about us, kid.
Got to circle the wagons
until all this talk dies down.
Yes, I say“nigger” if I want to,
because I sing the blues.
Even B. B. King said I was a white nigger.
Anyway there ain’t no dirty words, kid,
only hurtin’ words
and they only hurt if you listen.
No one’s making you listen.
Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you.
Call me a bastard?
Call me a son-of-a-bitch?
I could shoot you where you stand, girl.
You don’t talk about a man’s mother
unless you are ready to die.
You know I won’t cheat on your mother-
don’t roll your goddamn eyes at me!
I’m not a cheating man.
You can’t understand it but
a man’s word is his bond, his honor;
aside from whiskey, it’s all he’s got.