Friday, February 27, 2015

Time

Hour glass girl.
Mama named me Time.
I suckled on the secondhand,
cut my teeth on the edge of night.

A maiden in the morning.
A crone come afternoon.
Sickly by the sunset.
A corpse for the rising moon.

Mama named me time.
I'm just passing 

through.

For Marian's prompt at Real Toads

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

BFFs



I'll go if you go
first - I'm right beside you - don't
let go of my hand.

For my daughter.
For The Mag.

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

July Remembered

July.

Rain fell
like it hadn't heard there was a drought,
and it was cool enough to put shivers
in the sunset.

Danny James kissed
the birthmark on my thigh
and wished on the whole sky
full of stars.

There were all the usual wars.

July.

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Warblers

Six singing warblers.
Quick springs the stealthy, old cat!
Five singing warblers.

Revisiting haiku for Play It Again at Real Toads

Friday, February 20, 2015

Ring Of Fire

By half past eight,
I've traded night for day,
but I'm still sleeping.
Well, I'm driving.
No, I'm absent,

but I'm keeping on
when this old song comes on the radio.
Mariachi horns in single file swagger,
sharp as sent for me daggers, and I feel something
familiar
like my pulse.

I follow their snaking through my suburban streets and home
to where everyone's gone, and it's just
his voice -
that voice
the voice in my garage wilderness -
singing.

And I have an impulse
to leave the engine running,
to close the door.
I could,
I could,
but love

is a burning thing.

For Grapeling's word pair challenge at Real Toads.  I used absent / sent and pulse / impulse.  This has been edited several times since I first posted it.  Sorry; I just can't seem to get it right.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Steeple Chase

I've steeple chased
from Buddha to Jesus.
Enso to Cross.
I'm still lost.
Holy Ghost on toast!
Can't even buy hallelujah.

Book of Mormon
Book of Job.
Cryptic message
in my horoscope.
Nursed every mirror's smoke
trying to get to you.

In the beginning was The Word.
The only word I've heard is No.
In the end, it's all absurd.
I'm never going to know

enough to suffocate
doubt and call it faith

unless you call me.

A rough draft inspired by an Anna Karenina word list.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Survivor Cricket

Cricket singing out of sight.
Cricket, cricket, hidey-hide
from gecko's grisly crich, crich, crunch
or you'll be grisly gecko's lunch.

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads