What can YOU say in six sentences?
Another day another "poem." This was was written for a group. The topic was "Time."
Watch my watch,
Time ticking by with each tick,
Minute after minute, hour after hour,
Well-spent or wasted; it doesn't matter.
Time flows on anyway; Siddhartha's endless river.
Watch my nephew grow,
The newborn morphs into a plucky toddler,
Smiles and dimples on a cherubic face,
Hands stained red from finger painting,
I hate this moody day; the clouds are dark, the rain is pouring down.
When the parking lot pavement gets wet, it turns to grit, and little stones get wedged into the soles of my old shoes.
Raindrops splash against my suit, most don't soak through, but the few that do, feel warm like summer dew.
A file is tucked tightly under my arm so it won't get wet, but the rain still spatters it, turning manila yellow into a putrid shade of…Continue
You're lying naked on the bed, head tucked into your body pillow. I can smell you. It's an aroma I can't describe, but it's undeniably you. Don't move. I want to take this in; your body, your scent, your sweaty mop of chestnut brown hair, the fingers of sunlight poking through the bedroom curtains, the dull hum of the oscillating fan, the gurgles of the cat snoring under the bed, the way you twitch and mumble to yourself as you slowly drift off to sleep - all of it. Grant me just this one…Continue
Like most days, I don't wakeup until I'm halfway through my coffee, hunched forward, yawning at my desk. My inbox is a teetering mountain of half-finished assignments; there just aren't enough hours in the day. Procrastination could kill me, one stiff gust of wind from the office fan and I'll be buried under a paper avalanche.
A loud buzz beckons me downstairs, to my boss's office. A curt hello, a few gruff instructions, and I'm sent back up with a stack of memos. Adding…Continue