Wow five days in a row of writing ten poems in twenty minutes. I’ve spent a whole hour writing poetry. Wow.
10 Poems in 20 Minutes
You know I don’t laugh often,
But this made me laugh.
Meaning you have no sense of humor,
You’re always angry.
It was beautiful
I’m telling you.
We came out of these trees
And the sun was just starting to set
Water was still
Some dudes were fishing
We saw through the parting of the trees
The sun over the water
And the clouds, beautiful purple colors.
You’ve told me this story before.
The full switch kicked on
I should stop
But it tastes so good.
My mouth will be full
Full is good.
Anyway this means they don’t have to throw the food away.
I got what I paid for, satisfied.
The good person
Never tells how good
But mentions their acts of mercy and kindness
As if to say, natural.
I just happened to.
I feel I should.
I’m so glad I did.
I can’t believe you don’t.
Sanctuary is one place.
It is not the church.
My church is struggle.
Sit still, smile now, stand up, sit quietly, why don’t you listen, tsk ugh, look right.
For it cannot be the house.
Don’t wake them, let those dogs out, turn off the lamp, close that door, move those things.
The house is stress.
Neither is it the park.
Look at that, catch this, walk faster, forget that, move on, so loud with people.
Instead it is the fourth floor library.
No one bothers, no one asks, they pass, don’t look, and move along, let me be.
Peace still in words.
Tumor in her brain
Makes her sure of suffering
But she can’t tell us what hurts
She can’t bark to say
Her ears lay flat back
And she doesn’t move much.
Should she live
Alive, in pain, she can’t express.
Six remotes for one box.
So I take more time to turn it on.
Then I watch it for longer.
Hold the buttons.
Just in case they move around.
My box will trap them.
And I will watch them.
Blue carpet on the second floor
Worn down with melted crayon and paints and years socked feet.
I walk on the sea.
Vested boy with blue eyes
At least I think they were blue
And a violin
How do I say, I like the way you play
Talk to me so I can see if the voices match
I grow my nails long, they make my fingers look elegant, my fingers.
My index finger curves in.
My palm flat and wide, boxed
My wrist taints
Pinky too small
But with colored patches my hands look more like my mother’s.