Written sometime in November 2009, during the first snow in Princeton:
Traversing the air, falling angled
like millions of miniscule crashing planes.
Disintegrating as they land, disinterested
in what fate and destination demand. Tiny
kamikaze warriors of the cold wind,
they sacrifice themselves on our skin;
cyclical, they show us what will be
is what has been.
Maya also wrote one:
http://prettymuchthecoolestever.blogspot.com/2009/12/first-snow.html
Friday, January 22, 2010
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Site of Impact
Blood, smoke, caravan wreckage,
broken spokes and cadavers flecked
with grime and dust. The air stings
my nasal passages and brings back
memories of ancient cities built
under overhanging cliffs.
I wade through sludge and silt,
witness to an inevitable rift,
the inescapable entropy of a
natural disaster. I walk faster,
trying not to look back. I am
a wanderer; I must
move on.
broken spokes and cadavers flecked
with grime and dust. The air stings
my nasal passages and brings back
memories of ancient cities built
under overhanging cliffs.
I wade through sludge and silt,
witness to an inevitable rift,
the inescapable entropy of a
natural disaster. I walk faster,
trying not to look back. I am
a wanderer; I must
move on.
Labels:
fictional scenes,
meteorite,
resignation,
wagon train
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Ad Libitum
Overarching ochre giants
peering through slightly smudged glass
remind me I’m not in class.
Not quite the woods, but not standing alone,
a brilliant boscage swaying in the
ebullient breeze. I hear the phone
ring but I don’t pick up.
I am hostage to the now.
peering through slightly smudged glass
remind me I’m not in class.
Not quite the woods, but not standing alone,
a brilliant boscage swaying in the
ebullient breeze. I hear the phone
ring but I don’t pick up.
I am hostage to the now.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Mendigo
Mendigo,
swimming through fresh water.
Friend or foe?
The king’s only daughter.
Beggar king, beggar fish,
beggar daughter,
swimming through fresh water.
swimming through fresh water.
Friend or foe?
The king’s only daughter.
Beggar king, beggar fish,
beggar daughter,
swimming through fresh water.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Van Gogh's Ear
Van Gogh’s ear didn’t mean much to me
until today. I saw that maybe another man
had cut it off, his former friend Gauguin.
In these days I don’t ever think you’ll see
someone cut off someone else’s ear with a rapier.
To me, the thought of those two foe-ing friends
is quixotic. Couldn’t they have settled it with pens,
or brushes? Ink is nothing but blood on paper.
until today. I saw that maybe another man
had cut it off, his former friend Gauguin.
In these days I don’t ever think you’ll see
someone cut off someone else’s ear with a rapier.
To me, the thought of those two foe-ing friends
is quixotic. Couldn’t they have settled it with pens,
or brushes? Ink is nothing but blood on paper.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Even For an Eggshell
Ribcage split, butterflied,
cleft chest caved in, he died.
Smothered the blast like a
mother would smother her child.
On battlefield lay stacked,
flak jacket cracked in half.
Lungs choked, blood rose,
empty-eyed.
cleft chest caved in, he died.
Smothered the blast like a
mother would smother her child.
On battlefield lay stacked,
flak jacket cracked in half.
Lungs choked, blood rose,
empty-eyed.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Forever Young
What profoundly depicted the dread of our imminent doom
has become now the soundtrack to meaningless beverage ads.
has become now the soundtrack to meaningless beverage ads.
Labels:
anapestic pentameter,
bob dylan,
commercialism,
pepsi
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