seed/fruit (20161110)

i hold a seed
the size of an almond
in my fist
a dried out husk
covered in thorns

when i squeeze
it pierces my flesh
the soft spot
below my thumb

i bleed
i squeeze harder
feeling the bite

the seed is thirsty
but i won’t be
to satisfy it
though it would
certainly blossom
and bear terrible fruit

crimson drops decorate
the floor
the sizes and shapes
of cherry blossoms
i contemplate
tossing it into the fire
–being done with it
–being free of it
but i worry
i will miss
having something to feed
i will miss
the feedback of that sting

anger (20160601)

i can speak of anger
fluent in hard words
clenched jaw
balled up fist
tight-lipped mouth
that allows no human words

i can speak of anger
sudden blindness
urge to wrap your hands
around a throat
around the neck of a bat
and swing for the cheap seats

but instead
i will whisper to you
of forgiveness
that soft feather
brushing against your cheek
and beg for the same


The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Angry

Poem 20160306

every loss
is a taking away
a chunk of you or me
lost to time
or circumstance
or maybe malice

and you feel it, a vacuum
i suppose
in that emptiness
in your stomach
in the surprise asphyxia
of certain moments
in the way your eyes try
to see a missing item

–can you spy the difference
in these two images–

but if a loss is only
a cutting out
a phantom limb aching
below someone else’s knee
why does it weigh
so damned much