Blue, like nebulae,
Freckled with flares and stardust,
Peaceful glassy globes.
Tag Archives: poetry
Summer Thunder
Angels’ bowling night,
Or moving cloud furniture
While striking matches.
New Haiku
I pack my suitcase
And before I even blink
I am back again.
76 More Days
Seventy-six more days ’till the wedding date,
And a hundred and ten things still left to do.
There are over a thousand tasks–
And even strangers ask
If they can have an invitation too?
Seventy-six more days of my single state,
And a hundred and ten nerves frayed at the ends.
And yet I’ll trade all of this
For countless years of married bliss,
Time itself will soon make amends.
Excuses Haiku
Paper writing: you’d
Think that by now I’d have learned
To start much sooner.
Tired Haiku
Words in a bottle
Sink in the slow, grey ocean
Waterlogged and blurred
Someday
Someday
you will write a love song
and your voice will be free to sing it
and the decibels will rise and rise until they
shatter the glass encasing the wildly beating thing
whose fractured wings have bruised themselves against
the walls you have built around it and those walls crash down
like a cascade of broken ice when spring has come and
the river at last is free to flow again and you are
free to feel again the murmurs of the love
song you have written and I know
that you will sing again
someday.
Monday Haiku
The alarm goes off
And my first thought is how I’m
So ready for bed.
Grey and Yellow
Grey day, yellow day,
Rough day, mellow day.
Some days you have bills to pay,
Some days someone pays your way.
Some days are on the up and up,
While others tip your coffee cup.
Some days bend you ’till you break,
Others serve you chocolate cake.
Who knows the trials we will face
As members of the human race?
But I believe we’ll be okay
If you’re the yellow to my grey.
If You’re a Grad Student and You Know It
If you’re groggy and you feel it,
Clap your hands.
If you’re groggy and you feel it,
Clap your hands.
Curfew used to be at 10,
Now we’re up ’till who knows when,
If you’re groggy and you feel it,
Clap your hands.
——-
If your friends have graduated,
Stomp your feet.
If your friends have graduated,
Stomp your feet.
If all your friends are gone,
And you deal with freshmen all day long,
If your friends have graduated,
Stomp your feet.
——-
If you’re gonna flunk your midterms,
Nod your heads.
If you’re gonna flunk your midterms,
Nod your heads.
Don’t care about my GPA,
All I want is my MA.
If you’re gonna flunk your midterms,
Nod your heads.
Puddle Jumping
A tornado warning
in the morning
makes for a cautious day,
a rainbow of umbrellas
feebly joining in the fray
against the wind’s ill-tempered yawning.
Most are huddled ‘neath an awning,
but the ladies and their fellas
share umbrellas
anyway.
Who knows
Who knows what it is–
maybe the smell of perfume or flowers (or
maybe the smell of everyone else’s
perfume and flowers);
maybe it’s the resin dust and
the sound of bellyaching tuning
strings or the experimental
twitterings of clarinets (sounding oh
so very modern); maybe it’s the stars
(oh so very old) or us
(oh so very young) and the dance
that musicless sways us.
Who knows what it is.
Drafting Haiku
After many hours
Of hoping for ten pages,
I only have two.
Summer Sunset
Soft summer sunrise, I’ll sing you a song,
Now that I stand where my feet belong:
Alongside the ocean,
The breeze at my back,
Where everything’s right and nothing is wrong.
Sun in the heavens, you light my way.
Take both my hands, lead me to the day
Down the wild roads
Abreast of the hills.
Your gaze steals my words and my breath away.
Star of the twilight, your dancing eyes
Turn my head more than you realize.
I walk in peace,
For the shine of your smile
Gives me new hope as the daylight dies.
Soft summer sunset, I’ll sing you a song,
Now that I stand where my feet belong.
Safe in your light
In the magic of night
Where everything’s right—not a thing is wrong.