haiku
by rcribay
like the morning mist
off these forty-five islands,
our worries dissolve.
the pride i feel for them
almost what i feel for us
and i like where my heart
has gone
i’ve been sitting here for
minutes, asking myself
what mood i am in so that
i will know what kind of
poem to write; but my
laughable self-knowledge
yet again fails me,
refusing to clarify
what meaning I should find
in this unstoppable lethargy
that has swept through me
for no foreseeable reason.
thousands stand
yelling as one
shouting about
a man trying to
hit a ball
over a wall
while I sit
soaking it all
in not feeling
connected to the
emotional surge,
missing the wave
as it passes me by
beyond the cove
and the cliffs
echoes the lonely cry
of a nameless bird
while most still
sleep.
filled up but not what i’d call full
because i’m more a glass
partially empty
kind of guy
3 days
of 5
but
the rest
of the week
i tend to be slightly
more optomistic about
the things i see and feel and
all the places you go when i’m not
around to check into our dealings of sorts
tally up your sins
just press them against your hand and look
the places you’ve shot and killed
poured over in blood
washed them “clean” with words of
valor?
short by ten thousand, a million, more
thick snow could not cover the black
you’ve made
press them against your hand and feel
madness at your things gone right
and accident – nay
i knew exactly what it was i done
and exactly where i find my hope
joy of joys
to find what
was thought lost;
to again be
able to watch
and enjoy the
first five ep
isodes of bat
tlestar galac
tica season four
spark and flame and ash alike
begin and end in heat
poke
spike
the things that keep our love
alive
or tear from us the things
burning
strive to find what fire can do
to all you own
everything new
passing as swiftly as it
intruded
i quickly find i miss it
my high
the buzz
of the drugs pumping
through my blood as i
take each next step
proceeding
slowly
forward
powered by
truly thinking
i can conquer the world
In the act,
in the midst
of congratulating myself
on being a humanitarian
on being a swell guy,
I realized I didn’t do
what I was so proud of;
I didn’t stop;
I didn’t help;
I didn’t lend a hand;
I left a man,
walking on the road
in the 107 degree heat
and made excuses to myself
saying: Iwasn’tgoingveryfar;
Iwasabouttostop;hemighthave
stunk;hemighthaverobbedme;it
mightn’thavebeensafe;whatifI
waslate;someoneelsewillhelp.
Accusing myself with my excuses,
I realized that just because
I am voting for Obama doesn’t
mean that I don’t still suck,
just like everybody else.
licorice and spice baby
you’re nothing nice
that feeling you wont miss me
if i’m gone
your gone
but i miss you
`Cause tonight is the night
When nine become one
dirt and cockroaches
haunt these halls
we so comfortably
call our home
