robin: Favorites

Jan 2014 robin

The meaning of the listless tree that resides outside my classroom window

Jan 2014 robin

Jedd Ong

The meaning of the listless tree that resides outside my classroom window

I.
What I notice first
Is how taut the fisherman's pole is,
Yanking the line—
Like a joint before it splits
Sinew and bone.

II.
I am far from the riverbed.
Resting in my place are
Undiscovered
Nappers.

III.
As my eyes flicker,
The hallowed Lamps of
God light a path under my feet.

IV.
"'Cher, can I go to the restroom?"

V.
As I walk, the only thing
That strikes me is how still the young
Sapling is.

VI.
Wind slaps me in the face so hard
I wear a Breaker.

VII.
I spend two minutes prying open the sapling.

VIII.
Well, after I ****, of course.

IX.
Ernest Hemingway once said
To zone in on what exactly it is that draws you to something.

X.
Like the tautness of a fisherman's line, for example.

X.
Or her nimble fingers.

Jan 2014 robin

Untitled

Jan 2014 robin

Jedd Ong

Untitled

Sometimes I wonder whether
The monsters underneath our beds
Have simply learned
To leave us alone

Fully knowing that the fear comes
Regardless.

Knowing that many times we scare
Ourselves into thinking
Once we dream
We will never wake.

That every night we hear
Sirens
And ambulances wailing-

Mistaking them for gunshot wounds
Buried deep within
Our chests waiting
To resurface.

And we dream of our stretchers.
Of if our arms
Will seamlessly tuck
Into
Our chests as we curl up
Beneath the smoke and
Rubble
Of to-
Morrow.

As if our sleep leaves open wounds
Left for them to
Sew.

It's getting late.

Jan 2014 robin

flame worship

Jan 2014 robin

Dre G

flame worship

if the god of impulse and
furious fire decides to strike our
planets with etherial combustion,
then let us bathe each other in
plasma, let us crack like red glass
into madness, let us mine deep into
our lungs for oxygen and tie our wrists
tight with the bonds, proud, covalent,
bursting forth, so exothermic that
the molten waves submerge us.

we are not two animals who have succumb to
the embers of electromagnetism. we are plates in
the lithosphere who have built infernal mountains
across the ocean floor, millennia of melting together
atop the blazing peaks.

Jan 2014 robin

11 january

Jan 2014 robin

dean

11 january

today the marsh
had a viking
funeral
              all the
trees and all
the brush floated
along in their
frozen beds of
ice
      the birds
sang in memoriam
and even from
behind the glass
we turned
                   our
heads away
                      i
wonder where you
are and whose
funeral you're
                          watching

redux of 5 january, riffing on the same theme, different ending. the real question is: will i ever write with punctuation again? the answer is likely no. here i go talking to myself again. goodnight.

Jan 2014 robin

sapped strength

Jan 2014 robin

dean

sapped strength

i slept alone, your
wrists were my hair. delilah
mine, i still love you.

Jan 2014 robin

5 january

Jan 2014 robin

dean

5 january

today the marsh
had a viking
funeral - all the
trees and all
the brush floated
along in their
frozen beds of
ice. so when
you say that
winter only brings
death, you're right -
but the ice
that kills is
the ice that
carries and i
promise when it
comes time for
your burial you
will drift out
proud, victorious, a
conqueror even of
eternity

and i
with my warm
hands and aching
heart

will follow
you to valhalla
and far beyond.