Haiku: Birds

I think about birds
Birds are not the same at night
At night they are words

Words in the darkness 

Are only sounds in the air

Waiting for an ear 

Whispers on the wind

Hiding the secrets of flight

And truth of being. 

Birds are glorious 

As long as they are shitting

On other people.

Poem: The Unseen Construction

 Surely as the red fox walks our streets at night and doesn’t realize that humans built the houses and made the roads, there are constructions in our world built by others that we do not recognize, but just as assuredly we walk through and ignore the builders thinking only of the moment and our stomachs.

Haiku: On Death I

Leaves fall from the tree.
Existence is all I have known.
We are not the tree.

Food gives no pleasure
When someone you love suffers.
Tears salt everything.

Go out with a bang, 
Or go out with a whimper,
It is all the same.

Halfway

Sitting under a redbud tree looking at a branch from the underneath, silhouetted against the clouds, I see an ant making its way toward the end of the branch and wonder how that little body could contain enough energy to complete its journey; because unknown to it, it has traveled to the end only to realize it is halfway back to the beginning. 

Poem: Words Forbidden in Poetry

Until recently I had lost touch with my hatred of poetry. 

Words to never use in a poem. 

God - capitalized or lowercase. Especially not lowercase. 

Goddess - unless it is preceded directly by green and then only if you are describing salad dressing. 

Soul - just never. I mean get a thesaurus already. That is unless you are expounding on styles of music. And then only if that leads you to jazz. 

Spirit - not unless referring to liquor. 

Woman or Man - in the context meaning all women or all men. Generalizations hurt because individuals exist on a spectrum and name calling is never helpful. 

Maidenhead or fountainhead - never for any reason. 

Anger - especially not as white or hot. 

Do not describe skies as blue or grey. Flesh as quivering. Leaves as dappled.  Blood as red, burning, pounding, or otherwise. 

And goddammit listen to me when I say this, never use the word love in any sense or connotation. You sound like a hormone dribbling simpleton. 

These words are forbidden to you. 

Poem: Blooming out of Place

In the garage you smoke a cigar
Outside there are several inches of snow
You look at the lemon tree that you stubbornly keep alive through the winter
By installing grow lights and a heater in the garage
Lemon trees do not grow here but neither have you
You've planned to move back to where you call home
But things and events conspire to keep you here
Like the tree, you resist putting down permanent roots
You see the beginnings of flowers, little buds of white
The tree has found a way to bloom out of place
But you have not.

---

Short Fiction: Luther's Long Locks

A fun challenge. Write a short using all of the words from (hover mouse for definitions):
Illustrations Of Unusual And Rarely Spoken Words


Walking slowly by a penny arcade gazing at the machines yonderly, Luther's neck was hurting, and he felt in a zugzwang. As an acersecomic his burden had become great, and was afraid that it would be his hamartia. He was trying to suppress scripturient feelings, but as he walked the ostentiferious clouds seemed to darken with each step. Even though he often regarded such machines as ultracrepidarian, on a whim he approached a fortunetelling machine and supplied it with a penny. In a glass container, the upper torso of a crone in the posture of issuing a jettatura, spit out a small slip of paper into a dispenser. With reservations, Luther retrieved the message and read, "Hair binds you. Cut it and be free." The words were a recumbentibus to his very way of life. Upon recovery, he rubbed his smooth chin and decided to take the advice and to take up pogonotrophy instead.