haiku stringlengths 5 2.3k | source stringlengths 1 74 |
|---|---|
slingshotting around
there's gravity
for you but all i ever wanted was to fly | img2poems |
he knows but what the garden gives
the garden's soot
awakened tongueless in root | img2poems |
the wind called to the trees
and then it happened
and they said how do you feel | img2poems |
and i said like a fountain
night falls from my neck like silver arrows
very gently | img2poems |
and why not
my brain has been
hungry all this time | img2poems |
and up in the dusk there is lucid debris
a conduit a wire mask a swastika
of corn | img2poems |
boy- and/or girl-small we'll find
some horizon an intricate faking
in which to lose way | img2poems |
to what do we owe this
forgetting not to kiss
not that any given face is not afraid | img2poems |
face your waste of time
this is all
this is all you are | img2poems |
to this urn let those repair
that are either true or fair
for these dead birds sigh a prayer | img2poems |
panicky masks we wore for
effect more than effect
more real than we'd admit | img2poems |
erst
while ecstatics' lapsed enchantment trance
gone none could say since when | img2poems |
voice laryngitic lost
and lost again blown grit rubbed it
away | img2poems |
choric strain
repeatedly slipped entablature
given | img2poems |
we were there and somewhere else no
matter where we were everywhere more
than where we were | img2poems |
slick
stick
people tricky soul a sick thing they said | img2poems |
line
was all point point all extensity stick's own
deictic drop | img2poems |
no longer point less point than
point's target stick city made them one and the
same | img2poems |
the unkempt beard of the fearsome mullah
overwhelms the two aging poets from the periphery
the far-flung provinces of iran and iraq | img2poems |
blunt bayonets once sharp as wind
moon-pale stacks of clavicle
a hand | img2poems |
my sister can sit on her hair
at night a man sits on her bed
her bed is covered in oak leaves | img2poems |
the telephone bursts from the wall
the wires are a joke
we get it | img2poems |
slowly in the hot air they swung three girls
how old were they
of marriageable age certainly | img2poems |
see how the monsoon winds soar and shunt
tropic air into a house of souls
a doorway stopped by clouds | img2poems |
set your feet into broken stones
and this red earth and pouring rain
for us there is no exile | img2poems |
smackdab midchest you feel lumpy empty
sniff
sniff | img2poems |
to flirt with you can
no longer flirt with
thank goodness | img2poems |
focus on the shapes
cirrus a curl
stratus a layer cumulus a heap | img2poems |
i packed up my sagas my song lyrics
my alchemy potions my gold and
i disappeared | img2poems |
kurosawa was a moralist
it is said he took and gently bent
akutagawa's grove | img2poems |
with a long bark mules metered the distance and turned back
dust rose like columns of unpaid debt
spit dried before it could reach the ground | img2poems |
the winner's body itself was an apple with skin chewed off
inside her breasts milk circled like a growling animal
locked behind two heavy nipples | img2poems |
it was both day and night
her moon-white hand on the sun-gold fruit
in her hair more stones than in a graveyard | img2poems |
lesson of the day: syria and styria
for syria read: his conquering banner shook from syria
and for styria: look at this harp of blood mapping | img2poems |
pay attention to the skirmish the white
panther that flitters up the pole
its shade grows large on the ground | img2poems |
why write in prose what you could write as easily
as
poetry | img2poems |
every poem must have distinct frames devices motifs styles forms or
concepts
poetry emasculates prose | img2poems |
the body: can't live with it can't live without
i
t | img2poems |
an umayyad monk
spins wheat and wool above us
time is a scarecrow | img2poems |
it's a good place for a party
he concurs
to friends now dressed in jeans | img2poems |
he feels the warmth
and doesn't know his soul is filled
with the spirit of coyotes past | img2poems |
if you hate to think about this shit because
why the fuck is it always on you
to preprove your loyalty and innocence | img2poems |
they did not intend to fade out to the sound of bells and choiring
they would find a new woodland or water for haunt untroubled
by candles and books and the tedious meaningless latin | img2poems |
the gods who had brought him were gone
he started counting
day one was the day when things began to go | img2poems |
beyond
the stucco portal
crushed purple | img2poems |
awoke and did their painful business
i let the city drop upon the stones
it split to its deep palaces and combs | img2poems |
blood throbbed in the hurt veins
as if an unseen swarm mined there
the nest oozed bitter honey | img2poems |
i swaddled my fat hand in cotton
after a week pain gave it back to me
scarred and weakened like a shrivelled skin | img2poems |
into the landfill before building crews
came their guitars amp harmonicas
chasing away ghosts at lunch break | img2poems |
i argue
you want love
do you even know what it looks like smells like | img2poems |
he set it on the table the way people on television
set things when they're afraid those things might blow-up
or go-off he set it right next to my empty coffee cup | img2poems |
it was no ark
it was the broken end of a picture frame
with a floral design carved into its surface | img2poems |
my brother teeming with shadows
a hull of bones lit only by tooth and tusk
lifting his ark high in the air | img2poems |
a carpet of light the
ocean alive lt half a moon
muting the stars | img2poems |
to those who kiss in fear that they shall never kiss again
to those that love with fear that they shall never love again
to such i dedicate this rhyme and what it may contain | img2poems |
he said look
look
and they did | img2poems |
done with junior to help him
we painted our rooms
cinnamon aegean blue repainted them eggshell gris-perle | img2poems |
or worse called ugly a cruel joke
or
there are always worse things | img2poems |
have i spent too much time worrying about the boys
killing each other to pray for the ones who do it
with their own hands | img2poems |
an encore
of boy after boy
after sweet boy their endless bloody bow | img2poems |
only you tenderness
stillborn beneath
the skin of sleep | img2poems |
she pressed her ear against the shell
she wanted to hear everything
he never told her | img2poems |
a city of silence
risen out of desert
built of bodies | img2poems |
had brought the obliterated back
not again (i said
from my second-floor room | img2poems |
the old woman in the park pointed
is it yours
her gold eye-teeth gleamed | img2poems |
even now he is changing
as if i were
licking him thin | img2poems |
the counter and draws fire from sarge to
begin the fight up and down the wide screen
of memory ablaze in warner-color light | img2poems |
our problem was preparation
premeditation
neutered any rage potential | img2poems |
house this morning is pale with the rush of what night siphoned off
objects still emptied of resemblance hum their chord-less cantos
bloodless my knuckles knock on walls without echo testing singularities | img2poems |
a dandelion's root far deeper
tolerant of drought and poor soil
is not an easily uprooted presence | img2poems |
the radio saying run run run
milkflower petals on a black dog
like pieces of a girl's dress | img2poems |
don't worry he says as the first bomb brightens
their faces my brothers have won the war
and tomorrow | img2poems |
he is fraught as angel clare
with honesty with his latchet
worthy of her | img2poems |
what i remember
is the smooth arc the gun made amp the way
jesus shimmied to the rhythm | img2poems |
first architect of the jungle amp author of pastel slums
patron saint of rust
you have become too famous to be read | img2poems |
i let the book fall behind me until it becomes
a book again
cloth thread amp the infinite wood | img2poems |
but of whom
brecht gasping for air in the street
truman dancing alone with his daughter | img2poems |
and this confetti on which our history is being written
smaller amp smaller less clear every moment
and subject to endless revision | img2poems |
no
no hunh
no | img2poems |
off the phonepole woodenly
we rise above the wind park
commemorially | img2poems |
time to recount the sparrows of the air
seated alone on an elected stair
i stare as they appear and disappear | img2poems |
tonight the deck supports tremendous quiet
although the twilight is itself a riot
i'm glad i'm staying here not at the hyatt | img2poems |
my pen eye notes watch whiskey glass and hell
all hang together comfortably well
pain is my favorite resort hotel | img2poems |
put them in a little boat called
she who must be obeyed
our little joke | img2poems |
then in the august of my twenty-seventh year
naked except for my seaclogs
i greeted an audience of piers | img2poems |
after my dip i came up covered
in salt and sand: hair tough as an angel's
who could disappoint me now among the so-coifed | img2poems |
camp is over and the children come out
wearing hats the children are happy for each other
each camp having been maximally appropriate | img2poems |
beef: or it reaches the furthest point
the branch turns from us and is for some arc
fully quiet | img2poems |
i need help moving my chickens
i need help with girl problem
my dog like keeps marking the wrong areas | img2poems |
lobster trap elegies
the way a hung coat suggests a general's death
on the banks of the monongahela and dinner guests toreadors | img2poems |
everything birthing its vanishing point
even the sycamore
which is to say even the man is due to be shot skinned and tanned | img2poems |
cooling sheds phrenology
moose racks buckets
the smoothness of a plank box and the irregularity of hay | img2poems |
i think it's very cold there
i think andrew loves
his wife: her posture beneath a flat-crowned hat | img2poems |
a streak of sun climbed the rough
trunk of a tree but he did not
see it with his open eye | img2poems |
the unborns we named
beinn narnain ben vane beinn ime
ben vorlich and beinn bhuidhe | img2poems |
a shadow in the shape of a house
slides out of a house
and loses its shape on the lawn | img2poems |
she'll have got to the mantis eggs by now
at each gulp of hatchling
she slowly blinks with satisfaction | img2poems |
follow where all is
/ follow the transfused
/ follow what is still and what is still-attracting | img2poems |
she pointed out that i had not made eye contact
with her at all
then i cried properly in a short burst | img2poems |
let butter and chocolate be a wish not to die
i implored the bain-marie
she likened me to a sieve | img2poems |
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