Poems

Repetition — the seed of boredom.
Verdure hums softly beside me,
hammock heads swaying,
horns of light framing my view,
my view of a promised, brighter day.

A day I could summon with a choice,
yet each choice might wound another sprout.
So I water them gently,
tease them; a lake of gold
shimmering just beyond their gaze.

Will the golden soil sustain their thirst?
Will it feed what their roots still crave?
By the time our buds bow to the wind,
winter will already be in bloom.

By the time you swear you’re his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying–
Lady, make a note of this:
One of you is lying.

A test composed by my sluggishness,
Monitored by indulgence.
Multiple choices follow each question,
Each seeming less correct than the last.

Must I eliminate the false before it eliminates me?
And if I am eliminated,
I will not deject myself—
The choice was likely wrong to begin with.

My week at a glance,
Convenient on a calendar.
I never scheduled my playdates,
Was marked complete at the end of the slide.

Maintaining the cumbersome conformity,
Reaching back to youth,
Let’s all follow suit, and
Add a randomize button!

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.

Let us build today,
On tomorrow's intentions,
Embracing our fate.

Humanity depletes its natural resource,
As the children wind up their toys.
Marmots disregard their past treasures, while
The idle man waits for his interview.

My candles can’t burn down
Any more.
They can’t burn anything down,
These days.
They just flicker with a false incandescence
Less and less…
Dimmer and dimmer…
As their batteries discharge.

I only replace them,
The batteries, I mean,
When you visit.
So between your visits,
Each night is dimmer and dimmer.
Until I am alone in the dark.