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Winter 2012 Haiku Set12-6
cats in the hall
shifting to find
the last afternoon light

12-7
all day the old cat
follows a spot of sun
down the hall

12-8
all my raked leaves
now a pile
at the back door

12-10
cold wind
street empty
a faceless penny

12-12
a cat's balance-
if you stop petting me,
I'll fall

12/21
rusted clouds
seventy miles per hour
towards the coming dawn
relearning          i. stardust scatters with the
direction of my pupils –
maybe secretly i am an
astrology teacher, waiting
for a sign to wink
happily at me.

         ii. excuse the rambling
nature of forgotten question
marks, but tell me:
would you like to be the
object of handwritten clichés
would you like to whisper
secrets in my palm
and would you
like to be the possibility

         iii. air brushes against my
skin like the torn petals
of a flower still standing.
[ hold your head up high, honey,
and tell tomorrow to wait just
a while,

         iv. so you can figure out
the difference between
patience and having all the
Cloud in a Bottle 1Cloud in a Bottle 1

How is it your voice is a canyon which cuts
where you did not even speak, opening the rivers
of my lungs so they could cataract, could rage with breath
you breathed? That the rock swells of your ribs, washed
round and floating, met then barred the way with mine
so that my heart, turned to tides, could not slip by,
and beat against the walls, unanswered, ‘til it drowned?

And that I still don’t hate you, even now?

There’s all this nonsense of lips and bubbles, that’s fine;
still refuse drifts in one direction all the same, refusing—
shored up maybe by some reassuring echoes still unsung&mdas
Why I Don'tWe are too permanent
for the transience of poetry,
each brief line speeding on toward
the next at breakneck speed.
And I have never been one for writing
epics, you know that.
The SculptorBefore he would have harvested a tree,
hacked off its limbs,
skinned it,
torn it from the earth,
shaved one by one its cells - its outer core,
until it was what he believed it was,

no more a tree.

Wiser, he walks deep in to the wood,
underneath a forest giant he stops,
looks up in to the leafy branches, sighs,
climbs and sheds his tears upon its boughs.
a second skeletoni. introduction

i was born 4425 miles away from here.
my heart still lingers there.
i don't want to have it back.

i go through the motions,
don't ask me for emotions.

i once thought i could be happy,
my mistake can be forgiven;
i was so much younger.

now i know better
than to expect anything.
because the only time you can lose,
is when you love something.

that's why i love myself.
earth circuitAnd when the sun sinks, the earth's skin crawls:

I.
I wonder if this awkward creature would notice me the way I notice him.
He's so tragic at his throne
I stare after him longingly.
And yet,
He never realizes that I'm the one
Who forever basks in his brilliant beams.
If only he knew how much brighter he could burn
[with me]
He'd light up the universe.

II.
I heard him speak of thirst, once.
The quenching lust of the stars had run dry.
So that night, I brought along a jar of acid.
(And how it gleamed in his glow).
I handed it to him, wrapped in taffeta ribbons,
screaming
I wish curdling joy
On my gurgling boy

 
starspunobserving the romanticism
of hooded cemetery kids,
smoking cigarettes pretending
they are not dead.

you were always so sure
about my uncertainty,
you watched
all my pick up lines
drop things.

we built the heat
of the evening from the solidity
of starlight,

pretended
that two teens at the park
at midnight
is the stuff of teen novels
(cliches dim on
our leaf-gold horizon)

your eyes darted
from the gray expanse
of the churchyard & wandered
in thoughtful
paths.

i wanted to ask you
if i could follow. shove
the words aside &
remember that i came here alone.

i remember our innocence
in the static b e t w e e n
stars
bitter hug of mortalityso you sit there,
your awkward little hands folding awkward little birds,
as if you could inhale your own paper wings.
so you sit there,
and you think
about you watching the people and the people
not watching you.
and i whisper darling,
darling the only thing you're good for
is reading walt whitman out loud
to your used-to-be-white walls
until your throat chips, and your eyes dust over.
and you just shift your weight
and shake your head
like something
buzzed in your ear.
Down By The SchoolyardThere is a rather cliched phrase that states that some people live double lives. I have always found that to be an intensely misleading statement and I guess you can call it a bit of a pet peeve of mine. No one leads "double lives", they just lead fucking lives. That those lives are more complex that the singular one-track existence of lesser creatures shouldn't be a matter of duplicity, but of common sense. No one is exactly who they seem to be.

Julio is one of those who they would later say lived a double life, but it is no more true for him than anyone else. The difference in this case is that there are two of him, rather than one.

Perha
cliffcliff
e.bojnowski

on velvet roads,
I impale a  belated dawn
with my incisors and
shiver with perfect leaves-

I have no qualms
with the dark hills
that slope
and stagger into
a bed of scorched fly husks:

where
the thrum of the ground
melds
with the rapids in
my clairvoyant ears.
the hungry look...the hungry look,

the wolves
weaving through
and around
  the gully of your throat like wraiths,

we can feel you rusting, lost one;

i know that drainpipes and fenders
begin to crackle after winter wet

and that there’s a touch of snow
in all of us,

but no one,
no one could hold you as tightly as you do,
your whole body, bloodless in this arrest,

and if you will not let your fetters show
i will show you
there’s a place for going, and you haven’t gone there yet;

where quantum particles, once in contact, can retain a connection
even when separated

where you
wander up to a stranger
with your shirt inside-out
and say &lsq
sea featherin the breaking of the morning we tore apart our ivory shells
     our blood-red hearts are saturated in spume & sea spells
with the ache from the brine gathering around you
your ankles slippery, your mouth
moving liquid through
mine
   i had never seen a more beautiful shoreline

gunmetal breaths
on shivering, silver shores

you were ebbing to my flowing
you were coming; i was going

i wrote in the sand that i was yours

on the coast i could feel
salt on my tongue - dew from the
ocean in my lungs
& i was your pearl
latched from the inside to keep everyone out
speaking in rhymes, & cotton tides

         this is when you pull my body fro
Davaothe equatorial sun
soft-etched on my skin,
there, del sur

islands away

the tan lines of shallow-bathing
in your eyes

there is so much time between

you
and
I

you spoil me, featherbreath
do i dare commit my memory
into dreams?

i laugh upon waking,
i did not realize--
i run when i go to you
the tease of Earl Greywhen leaves speak they rustle
but shan't talk of lost cattle

out of bags like cats lying
purring perhaps stirring

gainsaying the language
of pictures - much fewer
than one thousand words
whispered soft - softer

ours to read into
by catching a hint of
some spiciness brewed
a sugaring of love -

or upcoming danger
a giving or taking
from whom in this strange land
once was a stranger

by this chance assessed
through one's cup or glass
darkly lit yet it be
from wet leavings of tea

hopefully let it be
the sugaring of love -

llp - dA - jan2013
DD - feb1/2013
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More from ~Vivid-Ellipses

As Embers Are CradledAs embers are cradled in hands too burnt to hold,
She rocks to sleep the spark that failed to gleam.
She carries a secret close in her satchel soul.

Worlds shifted thrice and overturned one bowl
And still the grieving gashes rage and teem
As embers are cradled in hands too burnt to hold.

The sudden start and stop of glowing coal
Has never left her thoughts or hands- it seems
She carries a secret close in her satchel soul.

He does not know that his soft calm consoles.
His unsuspecting skin deters the dreams
As embers are cradled in hands too burnt to hold.

It was so loud and yet so few were told
Of the shocking come-and-go, the w
Sharpness and SugarOnce there were words teeming in this warm, wet sea of thought,
Jingling to the rhythms of earthworms, awaiting their chance to
Slip out my ears when I turned my head too quickly.
Tying themselves into dazzling pinpoint knots
As they squirmed with impatience.
Three stirs of the whisk and they would foam over the brim of my brain,
Careening topsy turvy towards any page or person.

And then,
And now.
Cement has set beneath my skull, surrendering my sodden scalp
To the wild beats of outside air
The pitchy, pithy colors twirl on tiptoe only out of reach
And burst like exhausted new mothers before they've built a sentence.
Sinking like

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May 28, 2012
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Moving: A Yadu

:iconvivid-ellipses:

We keep a home
Of unknown hums
And lonely cats.
The sky cracks but
He lacks a raincoat.

Fueled by smoke and
Words he lands on
A branded street,
Knows the sweet rage
Of meeting too soon and late.

This town belongs
To a song man
And wrongful ghost.
He is most sure
The coast will fade their remnants.
:iconvivid-ellipses:
The yadu is a Burmese poetry form I've grown to love due to its concise lines and climbing rhyme scheme. This is my first attempt at a yadu, written about my housemate two days before he left town.
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Daily Deviation

Given 2013-03-15
Moving: A Yadu by ~Vivid-Ellipses A wonderful example of the Burmese fixed form Yadu. ( Featured by ^Beccalicious )
:icontreasures-of-wisdom:
~Treasures-Of-Wisdom Mar 15, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Very neat, and congrats on the Daily Deviation!
Reply
:iconaquarius-claire:
~Aquarius-Claire Mar 15, 2013  Student Writer
I adore this. By the way, it reminds me of this character named Nakata in a the book Kafka on the Shore.
Reply
:iconsquagle:
~Squagle Mar 15, 2013  Student Digital Artist
Congratulations on the well deserved DD!
:huggle:
Reply
:iconneurotype:
^neurotype Mar 15, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
This is a really interesting structure, thanks for the introduction to it :)

I liked the first stanza most because it's the most compact, and I think most evocative of a single moment.
Reply
:iconflane-kanja:
~Flane-kanja Mar 15, 2013  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
I've never heard of this style of poetry before. I read it out loud though and was astounded at the movement, rhyme and rhythm of the words. Beautiful. I very much enjoyed it.
Reply
:iconpepsiboy81:
~Pepsiboy81 Mar 15, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
This is beautiful and truly fascinating to me. I've never heard of this style before but goodness me I'm getting excited just thinking about the possibilities already. Thank you for sharing this with us all. And congratulations on the DD. It's always lovely to see literature features, they are so few and far between.
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:icont0xicfr0g:
=T0XICFR0G Mar 15, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
I LOVE the raincoat line at the beginning C:
Reply
:iconlintu47:
`lintu47 Mar 15, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
Congrats on the well deserved DD! :dalove:
Have a nice day! :heart:
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:iconjudah-leonardo:
*Judah-Leonardo May 29, 2012  Professional Writer
This is incredible! How do you make this structure sing so much? I love your words.
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