30 April, 2013

The Kissing Cult- Day 30

On the hunt for
the perfect kiss,
o’er mountains and
under bridges
and through time,
the prime character
searches, kissing
countless creatures
whilst unable to
remember just how
this hunt began.

Relinquishing her
capacity to feel,
the heroine moves
quickly and silently,
never harassing
but easily able to
convince anyone
who crosses her
haphazard pass
to kiss her, foolishly
not understanding.

Soon, drawn by the
primal search for that
which seems to be
unmistakably true,
our protagonist is
followed by those
she has already been
able to enchant,
themselves bitten
by the quest for the
perfect, complete kiss.

She ignores them,
as they failed her tests,
failed to give her
the chance to turn
back on the organs
in her middle, but lets
them follow behind.
Nothing gets in her way;
her resolve keeps her
safe, tends to her wants,
and maintains strength.

Nap Time- Day 29

Squirm and fight me
all you want!

As soon as the Sun
hits your cheeks
and your limbs
go limp,
and your eyes
droop quietly,
I will win this
most epic battle.

Your daily protests
recharge midday.

29 April, 2013

Routine Haiku- Day 28

To write a poem
when there are no sadnesses
is not very fun.

Hotel Mari Carmen- Day 27

Iremos pronto a la
isla de mi juventud,
para ver las chozas
abandonadas y los peces
nadando en agua
cristalina y pura.

Brizas tropicales,
un Sol mundial y
arena quema-piel,
que nos relaja con su
falta de responsabilidad
y paz romántica.

Esta isla contiene los
secretos dejados allí
por años; era joven antes
y ahora busco estos
secretos escondidos
como tesoros de pirata.

Forces- Day 26

Gravity is our paste.
It holds bones and stars together.

Electromagnetism dominates.
It makes things react, and re-react.

Strong force binds atoms.
It sounds like a sci-fi trick.

Weak force is crucial to fission.
It plays with neutrinos.

25 April, 2013

Zombie Haiku- Day 25

Ghouls, slowly lurching,
in numbers remain strong, but
unsatiated.

Canela- Day 24

Escuchándote hablar
sin verte ni ponerte
mucha atención, mientras
que las canciones
que nos acurrucaban
antes tocan su melodía
elástica y frondosa,
descanso mi mente sin
que te des cuenta de la
falta de emociones
que últimamente corren
entre mis venas.

24 April, 2013

Ping-Pong- Day 23

The ball hits a grey, loose net
and frustrates both opponents
with joy and exact momentum,
its plastic circumference wafting
in a Pacific breeze that secludes
and seduces the keeping of score,
itself an inexact science due to
the chaos of spherical energies.

22 April, 2013

California Haiku- Day 22

Sunshine beats on us
lackadaisically with
some informal love.

Battle Royale- Day 21

Batting eyelashes
meet
star-gazed glares.

A “how do you do”
convinces
both instantly.

One evening’s
laughter
forces energy.

Library Haiku- Day 20

Stacks of ancient words
sit at a reference table.
I always see you!

Labor's Value- Day 19

What is the virtue of labor?
Accomplishment, or determination
or perhaps just perseverance-
these brave words of good intentions
describe how the feeling of working
inherently benefits the heart.

One should work because idle hands
are evil, and not working is cowardly,
and insincere, and irresponsible-
but the reason for laboring should
not be for the intrinsic value of getting
something done, but improvement.

Instead of toiling for the rich and
feeling sickly from coal or lack of sleep
or insignificant pay, the role of labor
should benefit mankind and showcase
our imagination, strength, solidarity,
its virtue in the bettering for all.

18 April, 2013

Earthworm Eulogy- Day 18

Big fat drops
bring big fat worms
outside onto Badlands.

Rain smashes onto
brown worm faces,
tricking them to swim.

Wriggling and laughing,
fatty worms gleefully
lack despair.

Don’t stay out!
These Badlands aren’t
always lovely and wet.

Unpredicted rains
start and stop,
stranding them still.

Poor big fat worms
slither and wrinkle
into dried fruits.

17 April, 2013

El Coferin- Day 17

There’s a monster living
underneath my floor.

All who’ve come to visit
have left concerned and disgusted.

His voice is metallic and
his gaze is deadening.

He eats children during the day
and many ales at night.

Never sleeping, this creature
argues with the living, loudly.

Without an ounce of guilt, I
solemnly wish for his demise.

Every day that passes without his
death is a test in patience.

His bite is weak, though, and he
cannot vanquish anything above.

Astronomy- Day 16

Ancient distances, covered
and fueled by hydrogen
all up in outer space, effectively
mystify creatures on Home Planet,
creating reasons for looking
up, doing geometry, and trying
to get an A on a test about novae.

Pato Haiku- Day 15

Rutina siempre:
No se encuentran los patos!
Noche de llanto.

14 April, 2013

Spring Haiku- Day 14

October feelings
are tricks of the trade since the
greys have not washed out.

13 April, 2013

The Explorer- Day 13

With momentum and gentle force,
the explorer confronts a new discovery
with incredible passion and brave interest.

No obstacle, be it climate or fauna,
has the ability to obstruct this seeker from
that which has been found, haphazardly.

Unearthing, uncovering quickly but
with great detail, the pioneer shakes out
the setting and attacks the finding, hastily.

This explorer, finally satiated by the
success of discovery, rests after meticulous
observation, renewed and bewildered.

Hazard- Day 12

Hazard lights are on while the reactions
to old emotions differ, finally.

Hope maintains a steady, grueling pace but
does not flash with obvious intent.

Peaceful stasis, filled with caution and
memory, is carefully shared.

11 April, 2013

Love Song Haiku- Day 11

Naked truths sing out:
Cohen’s on the stereo.
Spring rains sound like love.

10 April, 2013

Houndstooth Hustle- Day 10

Meeting under bright, drunken lights which stream neon
onto the faces of those underneath, and while
slow balladeers beating taut drums to entice movement
in a deeply chemetic cloud of anonymity and
chances. And with flourish from grain and the knowledge of
impermanence, these tightly wound embraces
make patterns on an unlit street, and fated encounters
prove helpful for the gusts of cold winds.

Rice Closet- Day 9

Deep rice cooks
in a heavy pot.

Laughter scatters,
spilling its grain.

A closet shrinks,
boasting renewal.

No barter required,
just total connection.

08 April, 2013

Jazz- Day 8

Jazz-club feelings
rattle the Sundaytime blues
with loud.

Rhythms uncharmed
but counted, circle through
fleshes, wild.

Keep the beat and
demonstrate abilities of
full adaptation.

Roaring temptations
pour outside, ringing through
shiny brass.

Silence sweats on,
causing sweet, unpredicted,
bare pauses.

07 April, 2013

El Asunto- Day 7

Inspirada por viejos amantes
y nuevas oportunidades,
se sienta bajo el sol.

Horas pasan, desnudas y
furiosas, demandando que
su inquietud se calme.

Las caricias del sol no
son suficientes para
enloquecerla.

La paciencia baja a un
nivel, sus pasiones como
un molino de chocolate.

Ardorosamente pausa,
bajo el sol, para pensar
en momentos extinguidos.

06 April, 2013

King Spa Haiku- Day 6

Curves are all around.
King Tut lets us pray and sweat.
Let’s just all relax.

05 April, 2013

Esposa Haiku- Day 5

The redhead's been hitched!
Phrasal verbs are her White Whale.
Esposas always.

04 April, 2013

Spring Fever- Day 4

Coats are flung on the floor
as electrons heat up the day,
the axial tilt creating
haphazard behaviors.

Aroused senses feast on
the circular, celestial
labors of rhythms that seem
effortless and intentional.

Woolen items, covering
curves and hibernation,
are crumpled into a pile and
ignored until months pass.

Nights try to cool the avidity
felt throughout the day,
but the eve’s temperatures
do little to prevent.

Every morning gains speed
and warmth is carried
with smiles and embraces
that have waited patiently.

Smaller and thinner fabrics
mark desires that have rested,
gaining potential and
insane demand.

Excess light and lack of
obstacles in climate
create patterns in longing
meant to be repeated.

03 April, 2013

Aurora- Day 3

I awoke at dawn, with
a body covered in sweat,
cotton and Night clinging to my
electric, syncopating skin.

The Green from a bottle
splashed through the room
because of the new Sun
coming through the window.

No one could see what
I saw, Green and Sweat
sinking into sheets as I tried
to sway back to sleep.

This fever was lustful, not
viral, and so I breathed
quietly, allowing preserved
memories to dictate the day.

02 April, 2013

Unsolved Mysteries- Day 2

Her rouged lips smile gently,
rounding out a cigarette perfumed
by anticipation and moisture,
as she begs him for assistance. (Please!)

The door swings shut, clicking
and demonstrating Private!
I’m with a client, come back another
time, or out to lunch, or drunk. (Clink!)

He sits, sweaty greyed hat on a rack
in a dusty corner, smoke racing round
the room with a half-finished bottle
next to an unloaded pistol. (Bang!)

If there’s nowhere else to turn,
most likely you’ll end up without
answers, a pocketbook empty
and a run in your stocking. (Sigh.)

She faces, legs crossed and poised,
fake tears wetting a handkerchief
given to her by another man whom she
swindled with laughter and tales. (Coy.)

He knows all the ins and all the outs,
with experience growing silver lines
in his hair and creases on his skin.
Experience doesn’t outweigh intrigue. (Hmm.)

They both play boldly, laying traps
and smoothing out the attractions
predictable and not, that lay on top of
the wooden desk between their legs. (Gotcha!)

I suppose I could help, but it will
cost a pretty penny. The secretary’s out
to lunch so I’ll have to do all the paperwork
myself. You don’t… mind? (Ask?)

The tweed suit undulating around her
aching figure is too hot for the stuffy room
but the timing is too soon for such
obvious tricks- her blouse underneath steams. (Sweat.)

No, I suppose if you must, but I wish you’d just start.
She knows he knows, and he is aware of
that too. The room is screaming for air
and the smoke from their cigarettes thickens. (Gasp!)

He studies her, she looks away, taking a drink.
They both reel one another in, easily
forgetting the mystery at hand, tweed skirts and
old suits sopping up the chemistry. (Slow.)

Without warning, he jumps up from the desk
and rushes to open a window next to her.
Though startled, she remains motionless,
just waiting for the breeze to attack them both (Woosh!)

He’s closer to her now, and the cool breeze
mops up all their communal heat and rushes it
outside while they sit serenely blissful, both thankful
for his deliberate action after much hesitation. (Finally!)

I guess you have the details, thank you
for your time- she puts out her cigarette and
rearranges her skirt. I’ll be in touch- he opens the door,
watches her walk away, straightening his tie. (Slack.)

London Haiku- Day 1

Politics and Gray
gleam over the fair city.
Forty cups of tea.