Winding Down

•July 16, 2015 • Leave a Comment

The rise and fall of summer cicadas
A sound wave cycling through our neighborhood
It circles ’round my house and back again
A lifesong winding down for us and them

-a.r.

image

Photo, and clock, created by Leslie Pearson

That Morning

•July 15, 2015 • 5 Comments

That morning
The mockingbird
Flew down our chimney
We stood still
Hushed and waiting
No sound
But the rustling of flustered wings
And my child muffling a scream
No movement
But the swirling of six month old soot
From her feathers like tiny contrails
In the morning light
She landed on the sill of our closed window
And stilled
Like us
Her body wound tight and vibrating
Staccato twitching, watching
Us, the window, us, the window
And then
She began rubbing her tiny skull
With a fluid motion across the thick glass
Back and forth
Back and forth
Back and forth
Accompanied by a soft clicking
Each time she changed direction
Her beak quietly tapping
A Morse Code
An S.O.S to save her soul
And so you did
Slowly you made your way to her side
She trusted you, she stayed
I swear I saw your reflection in her ebony eye
You
Gently
Reached
And inched
That
Old
Window
Open
There was a pause, a moment
Of our collective breath being held
She looked around with a tilted head
As if confused by her own stillness
She took it all in
And then she leapt
That morning
Felt like
Magic

-a.r.

trapped-bird-sepia

F@ck Meme

•July 11, 2015 • 2 Comments

Sorry for my f@cking selfies
All I want to do is trash them
It’s just
I liked me for a moment
Slipped
But don’t you worry now because
I am uncomfortable again

-a.r.

image

Mondays Suck

•July 6, 2015 • 4 Comments

Some Mondays I just lose perspective,
My “Positive Patty” not at all effective.
Days like this simply suck,
I can’t pretty them up,
My “things work out” button fucking defective!

So I sit, and I write, nothing works,
Only serving to make matters worse.
Those tools simply recap,
A day quite gone to crap,

No clever quip to fillout this damn verse!

-a.r.

image

Instinct

•July 2, 2015 • 11 Comments

A lightning bug lost
In the sunlight, still blinking
But dimmed by the day

-a.r.

image

Painting: Naomi as a Lightning Bug by
Kellie Hill, kellimarionhill on Etsy

Melting Point

•June 30, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Yesterday I killed
A Kool-Aid spoon
I did not use him
As intended
The pan of popcorn
Was too hot
It broke apart
His structure
And left his
Stretching yellow strands
Throughout
Our snack
There was no way
To save it
Or remold his head
To bring him back
I had to hide
Him from my kid
If she had seen
His melting
But still smiling face
She would have
Sobbed
Without restraint

But then
Last night
She found out
And she did
Oh, how she did

-a.r.

image

A Momentary Reverie

•June 28, 2015 • 12 Comments

Happiness
Seeping from me
A momentary reverie
A giddy me
A detoxing
Clearing my pores
And emptying
The years of grime
Built up in me
I’m jubilant
And bubbling
I breathe it in
The steamy me
It’s cleaning me
To gleaming me
And leaving room
For being me
Revealing pure
Unbridled me
Buoyant
But temporarily
I am brand new
Untouched and free
An exposed layer
Of virginity
Oh newborn joy
Oh what will be
With this untested
Cleansed
Immunity

-a.r.

imagePainting: Arming Oneself With Immunity By Patrick Sean Kelley

Love & Math

•June 26, 2015 • 5 Comments

|A|ddiction ConstaNt
in th(e) foRmula of Us
Only (x) changEs

-amdr*

image

Photo: Professor Edward Frenkel in ‘Rites of Love and Math’

Check out the tags to find the (hidden) meaning and mathematical symbols in my haiku. Have fun…I sure did!

Tell

•June 23, 2015 • 3 Comments

This crimson tell
I know too well
Crawls quick
Across my chest
Unwilled
It always starts
With a skipping heart
Stripping secrets from meat
Just to surface my flesh
Blushing
Too powdery a word
For this all too human
Trait disturbed
Sanguine anxieties
Splattered and splayed
On my neck and face
Naked
I cannot escape it
This chronic tell
I know so well
Will color me true
Until my grave

-a.r.

image

Artwork: Moonlit by Angela Kennedy,
Pennystamper on Etsy

Echoes

•June 15, 2015 • 5 Comments

All of life is carried in an echo
With my ear pressed against the border
I can hear the whole of it
A Morse tap in a metal tub being filled
Our playful yelps across a canyon, to no one
The return of whale whistles in the sea
Just the right spot in a naked room
Grieving mothers, fathers, on battlefield streets
That first step in an abandoned stairwell
Laughter bounding back across time
The popping of corks, balloons, celebration expectations
A beast at night beckoning to be let in, or out
Or simply for the sake of it
The screaming of tattered lovers finally falling apart
The clinking of chains across oceans
“Mommy” from the mouths of babes in need
Chirping from a ready pot of tea, or coffee
Whispers of words we shared louder than we thought
Plumbing, garbage trucks, busses, responders
Clanking, groaning, squealing, siren songs
Rescues of a modern age from chaos
Speeches from leaders and villains, or both
The roaring of crowds in response and revolt
Clicking of keys and keyboards and screens
The ticking of time wound tight but slowing
An empty shovel clinking against packed stony earth
The musical memories of this world we share
And what we chose to make with them

-a.r.

Echoes

Photograph by Emir Ozashin

Reposted for my little echo on her 10th birthday…may your own echoes carry advocacy, humanity, ferocity, creativity, and compassion.