Two poems

Poetry...meh, I'm not much for poetry, but every once in a while something jumps into my head and I go ahead and write it down.  Here are a couple of examples.

BLOOD MOON

The moon

fat and august

red like Mars

fat face of an angry god

lumbering over the dark horizon

Bouyant

lifted maybe by Sisyphus

up towards the wide

stretched out stars

of Orion

Drifting imperceptibly higher

less pronounced

so bright now I feel

the shadow's imprint

leaking running

behind me

I want that monstrous globe

to come down now

to roll across

this vacant landscape

nothing but dreams of ghosts

to mow me down where

I stand legs

sorrow-swollen

like tree trunks stuck there

And now a small white

circle almost perfect

hangs in the sky

to light now for gravity

looks like it would fit

in my mouth

ER PARKING LOT

Ancient blacktop, crumbling

due to age,

oil stains, debris, I'd imagine blood

and tears and salt

and among these

glinting sunlight, sharp reflecting

clouds big in the windy sky

shards of urn, a broken serous neck,

the open mouth of a green glass vase

the flowers, though, are gone


Listening to: Munich - Editors

Flash Fiction Friday

Arrg - this week has been hectic, and I've no time to properly compose a piece for today. So, as is my wont, I'll switch it up a little here and post something different instead.

This is a piece I composed entirely from the subject lines on spam e-mails...very original, I know. But I thought it would be fun. Who knows - maybe I'll be the next Sarah Palin!




Here it is:

He that enola

I maxie ourselves girvin

of nimitz no dempster,

you which expellable.

An retrofitted from Saskatchewan

as is arabi.

In huesyville yourself kopperl,

The no veracity

I lairdsville as ridiculous

Of drennen many greenleaf

Or what turnabout

do keshena from aguanga.

He venerable to oblivion

An scary or notorious

Or mart of noontime

My clyman till moapa

in benedicta well halworth,

In harrah which cordelle

In weston go esposito,

Of earling what bache

Be aqua

With krakatowa at carlisle.

New found sex drive

appetite ceramics

on himself saturnalia.

That he mollie

tender altered medic

Or renovate everything fickle,

do it shalom.

In batavia she wearied

her usurious self verdant

Till it sashay

it quiescent is feminine.

Have a cassandra

no he manna

With so predispose

on my canadian.

Be no thousandths,

Be the grandson,

Or sap be combinatorial.

Do go dissociate

his inhibit the cache,

Which draftsmen is miles

To numeral do missionary.

To corrosive or burn

As by weller

It no suitcase.

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Listening to: Beck - Alcohol [#]
via FoxyTunes

Basho! Banana leaf!

Maybe a haiku
is the best way to start off
...no, just not enough syllables to fully express my thoughts.

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Listening to: Balloon Guy - I Am Punch
via FoxyTunes