One square
poised on the board
unimportant, overlooked
by Bishop's blessing
and Knight's March.
As Queen's cut circles
round lost rice fields,
the rain runs clear
off curved, stone tiles.
The luckiest children
play here in exile
barefoot in pure mud
or asleep on woven reeds
their moments unfettered,
ruleless; unlimited
on an island of green
in a monochrome sea.
Here, they rest.
The peace of pawns
who never learned to play.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 9:33 AM UTC
Click
Watching
progress load
the home movies of strangers
I will never meet
Click
Listening
to high school ghosts
sing the same six songs
till my earbuds sproud
Click
Fortifying
castle walls
invisible mortar against
a vast and empty hoarde
Click
Checking
how you are
who you're with
holding your shortand
Click
Whispering
how I am
screening my life
when the phone won't ring
Click
Searching
flickers of signs
that you are there
reading this
and one day you
(we?)
will
Click.
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 11:27 PM UTC
Worry sets in when
I've no contribution
not already conceived
into sweeter fruition
by someone more clever
succinct and brunette
the picture of an artist
in suffering and debt
Hell, even when musing
on futility
the words lumber lacking
all fluidity
Meters much marked
Rhymes relentlessly schemed
Capering for couplets
as yet still undreamed
Why bother? I wonder
Why scribble along
and much melancholy
for one hopeful song?
Doubts in ascendance,
my pen digs the earth
to China if need be
and the end of poem's worth.
Feb 21, 2012
Feb 21, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC