Poetry of a Conlanger

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Colon Hyphen Asterisk

Hanging on the edge,
My pulse in my legs
And my heart on my lips.

Right now, I couldn’t move if I tried.

And then I am free again,
Moving by some yearning force

All hesitation gone,
We are the only people in the room.

A moment of contact

And my hopes take flight.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

Tear the River

Time is a river.
Flowing smoothly, evenly, calmly
Before the rains, now
It rushes, thunders, stampedes,
And I can do nothing
But breathe as
I am tumbled through the
Demanding current.

Yet when even breathing becomes too much,
I can sleep,
Only to have my peaceful, even thoughtlessness
Sharply interrupted by
A screeching alarm clock.

How dare it destroy my only timeless minutes!

rip the cord out, hurl it across the room

break down sobbing.


My tongue tripping fluently over
Words full of richness,
My mouth twisting to
Sip the diamond water,
My lips waiting.

My arms moving gracefully to twine
Around the ribboned water,
My mind comprehending the
Glorious impossibilities veined through life.

Pulling the blankets closer,
I recall the golden honey
That ran in my veins
When you were here.

Light frames my windowshade
At midnight,
Startling a thousand dust motes
Into sparkling life.

I bolt upright with
A sudden knowing:

It is snowing.

Young Poet

I have power
In the elegance of eloquence.

Thoughtful words
Meandering on a page,
Or vivid imagery
Sprawling over paper.

I wield a pencil
To scribble a fading thought,
To capture a cherished moment,
To reminisce and muse.

I brandish a pen
To reinvent that thought,
To immortalize the moment,
To publish my musings.

I live to write,
Though perhaps someday
I will write to live.

A Shiver Was Here

(Jan 06 magnetic poetry calendar)

Would love shine from this night
Between smiles?
As it does,
Keep that cloud for us;
I can believe through rain.

Melting with him
Collecting gold honey-light…

Fall on darkness
Spin to gray

Let me dream,

Then I will dance
In the fresh, appley morning.
Moving from child to woman is hard,
But She has the day
And remembers flight.


There’s a kind of euphoria
That comes with this weakness.

I’d far rather breathe this
Smooth molasses air
Than any brittle slew of particles.

I’d have this singing honey
Swim through my veins everyday
Instead of coarse, sloppy blood.

I’d gladly melt like sugar
In this warm daze
Rather than be alert and caffeinated.

When walking becomes a dance,
Yet I struggle to move something
Other than my racing heart,
I know
That the hue of the world has changed
Simply because you’re here.