the sieve and the sand » summer

summer lull

Julio Chapluzki — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 13:57:08 +0000

with its sweet lilting voice
i have succumbed
to the lull of summer
and the interminable desire
to hibernate until winter
(or at least fall)
when i shall again arise
in magnificent chapluzkian glory
refreshed by the cold,
rejoicing in the blizzards,
no longer oppressed by unending heat.

Drafting is so last summer

tynedaile — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 06:04:41 +0000

A bottle of wine sits on my desk
staring at me with those red, red
vinegary eyes.
Daring me to go on
daring me to sing along
to the tune of decoration
and endless elaboration.
“Look at me,” it says
“I’m patient and I did it,
You can do it if I can.”
It seems simple enough,
let the words stand alone for a bit
don’t be hasty,
bottle them,
close the door behind you
and come back in a week.
Things will be better then.
A nice body of work is
like a nice bottle of wine.
Or so they say.
I tend to agree really,
I just prefer to get drunk
sooner rather than later.

last day of summer and/or fall sucks

David X. Hugo — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 16:54:20 +0000

i can write LOVE on my arm
all day long but i cannot
stop the fall from falling
all over me like a whale.
sanity leaving with the
leaves i am a helpless
child to the rhymeless
wastes and abandoned humanity
that is MOUNT PLEASANT,
MI 48858 (Apt #A253).
all the debts must be
wrung in,
all of the snide comments
must be said,
all of the comfort must
get sucked with the humidity
and brought down south
to comfort the old souls
in florida being fed
by tubes and so-on.

do you remember the last
day of summer? when
we traded a pack of
cigarettes for a beautiful
sun, clouds, temperature,
scenery and situation?
that day was the last
drop of water in our
trip through the sahara.

summertime blues

rcribay — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 12:26:18 +0000

while i’m preoccupied
with work and worry
summer slips away
blue skies & unread books
go to waste
with the dissolving days.

the summer’s ending

Julio Chapluzki — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 14:28:00 +0000

the summer’s close
is drawing near
and i would like
nothing more
than to dig in my heels
and stay right here
in the glorious summer,
reminiscent of my youth,
where there is no work
and there is no time,
where responsibility
is just a word
and does not concern me,
at least for the summer,
the beautiful summer
where anything is possible.

Hello July

Julio Chapluzki — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 18:16:50 +0000

July came
with reduced heat
but plenty of shine,
flexing its thermal muscles,
ramping up
to what will be unbearable,
giving good reason
to flee northward
and not return
till fall’s respite.

haiku

rcribay — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 17:01:51 +0000

summer is a whirl
pool dragging me into
lethargy
.

Godspeed

rcribay — Wed, 29 Apr 2009 16:33:25 +0000

in the electric air of
this early summer evening we
speak of what
will come to pass
while you’re away
and
wind chimes ring
hollow and low
filling the spaces
between our sad words
which we mask with laughter
in vain.

the first bite of fall

rcribay — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 01:22:13 +0000

this morning
i felt the first bite
of fall
as if sneaking in before
sunrise
testing the waters
of the atmosphere

i walked into its
sharp chill
eyes and lungs widened
as if breathing in a secret

by dawn summer returned unaware
of the thieving season waiting in the wings.

The Bad Summer Daze

Tucker J. Collins — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 22:20:20 +0000

O how many summer mornings shall be filled with anger

When cooperation can be the first solution ?

O how many summer mid days are filled with joy

While pain exists so deep within our souls ?

O how many summer evenings drag on in dullness

Without distraction or relief from all the hurt ?

O how many more days must I wait in the heat

While time continue to pass me by ?

12 Jul 08

rcribay — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 15:43:12 +0000

was it the night
we sat on steps avoiding
others so we could speak secrets and dreams until 4am?

or was it the time
we walked in the park in
autumn sat on a bench beneath
the night acutely aware of our hands and the distance between them?

or was it that Thursday
the first time my lips fell into yours
in the background the treading percussion of Explosions in the Sky?

or was it that Sunday
at circle of hope when I calculated the exact pressure
of your hand on mine to equal the love of God and kept it to myself?

was it in old city
beneath the din of eighties hip hop
when I told my friends I would marry you someday?

was it in spanish
stumbling mispronunciations and incorrect accents
in an attempt better know those who mean the world to you?

was it in harvard yard
dressed as wizards wandering and wondering
where we could find the best butter beer in cambridge?

or was it the summer
we spent unemployed reading and mastering
the NY times crossword puzzle then emerged, merged adjusting our eyes to autumn?

or was it that night
in central PA when you showed me how
to cup both hands to carefully catch these drifting constellations?

I cannot say exactly
when
only
somewhere
between my hands and yours
between sunset and sunrise
between the top and bottom step
between the mountains and the atlantic
between jersey and philly
between te amo and mahal kita
between the upbeat and downbeat
between the first and last page of this notebook
between one thousand and one days ago and today

I fell in love with you.

and even to partially properly articulate this
it will take my entire life
an infinite number of pages
and perfectly placed kisses
(which is part of my plan)

but something tells me
nothing will match
the simple eloquence
of your hand
in mine
some evening
fifty summers from tonight.

this summer

rcribay — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 02:47:08 +0000

this summer
let’s drop off the face of the earth
and then emerge, merged
adjusting our eyes to
autumn.

haiku

rcribay — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 01:58:14 +0000

heads down
dreaming on the cusp
of summer.