This poem is in a form called the ghazal.
The waves smooth down the shell and the stone.
The shell crumbles. The stone remains stone.
You think your vision is clouded?
Close your eyes and see like a stone.
Climb the mountain, but sit at the summit;
invite inside the craggy peace of stone.
We all lose something in the fall; rain must shatter.
Gravity may choose to be kinder to stone.
In the end, water always wins.
Given time, it will crack the most solid stone.
Lover, thanks for letting me know. And it's fine;
your visit was not set in stone.
Please don't assume I'm angry
when my face is slack like stone.
The basics remain the most effective instruments.
No weapon fits in the palm as neatly as a stone.
Does the hermit crab ever wish he could stop all this shell business
and live in a house of stone?
The world will always remember
the day you cast the first stone.
What shooting first and paying second gets you;
a prison of flash-frozen stone.
How extensive are these catacombs?
The deepest heart of the earth is not made of stone.
Trolls rejoice and roast their prey by moonlight.
Sunshine turns them instantly to stone.
History is written by the winners;
the past is not set in stone.
Trees must bend to survive the storm.
For a short time, the storm bows to the stone.
I ran the poem from the previous post through google translator a dozen times or so, then took the best lines from a couple different versions and made something new! So here's the new
When I break my body can die.
I am completely free.
Starfish, I love you.
Rise again today,
following before you return.
If you try to make a vaccine,
will not need it.
I am a starfish for you,
spreading wide so you
can crack off my limbs when I dry,
growing each back
before you arrive for the next;
I am whole without you.
If you are trying to graft yourself to me
you'll have to be quicker
than you are.
I am not a secretary from the 1950's,
yet I find myself sitting at this desk
with a jacket over my shoulders
buffing my nails.
Because they broke, and I didn't want to scratch myself.
Because it's cold in this office.
How easy it is to emerge a stereotype
you never imagined becoming.
I found this poem in an old folder and thought I'd share it:
We are all supposed
To transeverse the valley of our hate,
Is that not correct?
Worry away at seams,
Has been traded for dreams,
Closing fast closure
Is an ugly sprite,
unbound with spitting delight
and chasing chasing chasing
all we are trying to keep shut
I would like to introduce a new term into the lexicon; "harrasking." It means to ask someone something so many times and/or in such an intrusive way that the asking has become harassment. In casual speech, I imagine it'll be used when the asking is merely annoying, even if it doesn't rise to the level of harassment.
I did a bunch of brainstorming at the slam last night, and it's come to my attention that I have some holes in my slam repertoire to shore up; I need a romantic poem (all sweetness, flowers, and light), a list poem, a truly funny poem (aka funny throughout, and not just for a line or two), and at least one heartbreaking poem.
Right now I'm working on a poem about codeswitching. It's somewhat of a disorganized list poem at the moment, but we'll see what happens to it a couple edits down the line. Of course, to do any editing, I'll need to finish a draft.
If I were come to bury Caesar,
would you lend me your ears?
They say eloquence
may set fire to reason;
would you abandon your superego
and hand me your id
if there were a little more persuasion
rising in my blood like bubbles?
Each bubble shows me
right on the level
and then floating to the ceiling.
Good thing you have
prepared a tea party up there.
Come to the Three Friends Coffeehouse tonight at 7 for the Speak Sleepy benefit (for the Northwest Children's Outreach), organized by the lovely and incredibly talented Andrea Hope. I and a bunch of other amazing poets and musicians you don't want to miss will be performing. $3 suggested donation, totally worth it.
Click here for more details.
My first feature ever will be at Word Out this Monday the 16th...my first and the first of the year. How very fitting. You want a link to the Facebook event with the details? I can provide one.
And Sparrow Ghost Collective? Y'all rock.