Look at him now
bug-eyed with happiness
evergreen with the springtime
of love.
Remember him bleached & wilting
on that park bench by the bull-rushes?
Well, look who just turned up.
His life is on an upswing.
Whoopee, he says,
as he goes higher and higher,
his love looking on.
How was it, love? How was yr cuppa?
Dark and warm, thanks.
Dark and warm?
Yes, like a secret.
When you were gone
when it finally sank in
you had left
for good
it was too late
to make amends.
I wept
& shook
that long night —
& was cleansed.
tree,
tree
you defeat
me
with yr
quixotic
geometry
the way
you play with
gravity
a thing of pure
whimsy
Please don’t try to colonize me.
I’m not unclaimed territory.
I own me.
*pic courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
the prompt was to choose a color and make a three-line poem out of it:
There’s a traffic jam inside my head
thoughts blaring to be said
but the traffic light’s stuck on red
* can you choose a color and write a three-line poem, perhaps a haiku, on that color? have a go; post your poem in the comments section
I saw the sign out the front, I say. I was intrigued. So who are you?
I’m The Next Big Thing, he says.
Can I get your autograph then?
That’ll be five dollars thank you.
Five bucks?!
John Travolta charges 200 for his.
But he’s someone.
Did you read the sign?
Yes.
Well, I’m The Next Big Thing. You’re getting it cheap. When I hit the big time ….
Okay, I say, I see your point, handing over my five bucks.
John Malone 