Saturday, March 23, 2013

Early birds

Light glues in shadows
and stitches the beautiful
with its needle rays.
But early birds do not
care about all this poetry.
Their interests are only worms.
They come down in brown coats
Survey the field expertly
and start their day.
The muscles of existence
push and pull
stretch and relax.
Their heads are down
with concentration
like the students at an exam.

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Some light

Once in awhile 
ideals escape the books
Turn into dejected alarms
that go off deep in a dump site.
They ricochet off the darkness
and announce the world on stage.

A buzzard who flies high
will have to swoop down for lunch
and eat out of this darkness.
Obviously, some light will help him.

Sudden draft

A dictator is unnecessary
for me to feel claustrophobic.
A sudden draft of circumstance will do.
The room without a view is within me
and the window flaps rattle in the dark.
A montage from a ghost movie.

I wake my neighbor up
he turns to be me.
Dreaming something about a dawn
he disbelieves everything I say.
But like all neighbors, a good listener.

Feet take to heels
Conversation and I crumble.
The next morning
I watch a dew drop rattle
its beautifully designed windows.