Love Haiku #15
with the flow of your body's movements, such grace, like a gentle spring breeze
gentle
Tag: poem
Rejection
In the buffet line she fills her plate and I wonder how expensive the mouths we'll feed of the children she'll bear as I ask for her number and she spits in my face.
your love’s the cool air
Love Haiku #14
your love's the cool air settling down on the back of hurricane winds
Haunted Honeymoon
Originally published August 25, 2017
A sigh.
A drifting exhale.
An echo of a moan.
A creak,
back and forth,
rocking—or bouncing—
like bed springs.
The whine of the mattress
yields to your convulsions.
A book falls from the shelf—
you don’t stop,
bury yourself underneath
my skin, and there’s a knock
on the wall—hollow—
a whistle down the hall.
A small opening between your
lips where I fit my tongue,
and you bite and you keep going
and you suck the blood as
our bodies slap and the sticky
air sinks on top of us—
Was the door always open?
And my foot slips off the edge,
toes unfurl in the carpet,
feel the vibration get stronger—
You clamp my thighs,
hips tense to fill me—
and in the silence after, suddenly,
the room feels crowded.
Tell Me What Depression Looks Like
Yesterday it was pizza
Tomorrow I’ll crave Chinese
I’ve got to remember to renew my gym membership
But I stop for fries and a latte instead
Credit card statement says I spend too much on food
Self-sabotage my biggest demon
And your voice a thousand ocean breezes away
Whispers, Don’t get fat
As I scavenge my purse for the buy-1-get-1 spicy nuggets coupon
I’m not hungry, I want to sleep
I’m bedridden, and you’re too far to push me out
The other side of the pillow crosses borders
And somewhere you lay your head
Dream of me in an itsy bitsy teenie weenie—
I hate to disappoint, it’s a bit tight
Can’t pull it over my hips
My stomach growls louder than
My heart beating against me for letting you go
But you promised you’d come back
And I promised I wouldn’t get fat—
I guess we’re both liars
Sweet Heat
Love Tanka #11
(I believe I’m up to 11…)
We don’t talk about
the humidity—sitting
in his lap, panting
like dogs. He suggests no clothes—
A wink. I chuckle, he smiles
Transcendence
In the air, we spin—
like chopper blades—
as funnel clouds descend,
destroy the world beneath us.
Play Me
Play me like a guitar—
Let your fingers pluck and caress;
Strum my strings until
you find the right chords
to echo my parting lips;
Let your tongue curl as you
feel the rhythm loosen your limbs;
Make love to me in acoustic riffs.
I’ll tell you when to stop—
Our song isn’t over yet
I Think, Therefore…
I love you . . .
I think.
I’m pregnant . . .
I think.
Two words at the end
of a statement that make its surety . . .
questionable.
And yet, was it not Descartes
who only needed the assurance of thinking
to know that he was?
And is not God called the Great I AM
because His thoughts are unsearchable?
And what is in your mind but
memories of me and us and where we
might be had things played out differently?
I think about it more than I ought,
and I’m never quite sure—
So, maybe you can ease my conscience.
Tell me, what do you think of me in this dress?
And how confident are you of the words
that escape the gate of your lips?
Think . . .
carefully—
Then speak—
And maybe our love will BE.
Willow
Lost amidst the veil
of leaves, I catch her tears as
pendulous branches
cinch her lungs, suspend
her midair, waiting til death—
he returns to me.
The senryu has the same 5-7-5 line structure as a haiku, but thematically focuses on human nature and emotions, whereas the haiku makes reference to seasons and nature.
Nortina's Writing Inspiration Well 