The slow lonesome breeze offers up dispersing yellow pollen and tears.
Tag: Tears
My heart laid open
My heart laid open
I wait for the tears to come
Wiping thoughts away.
September Poem 11: Haiku D’etat
Red Eyed Tears
The Baptist Church on
Saturday and umbrella
With their lumberyard.
Three Men Now Have
A mother-daughter
Glasses frame and a mustache tree.
The stock pair of dreams.
And Nights Passed
Their hats in rumbles
Of petal blood. They honored
Heart shaped Feather trim.
Pizza Party
Stan had the field so
He could be fed on the tall
Grass when there was none.
Mental Dimensions
Jerod Thompson, the
Crispy wearing man, relearned
The laws of physics
As paintbrushes blinked
In and out of his hands with
The swiftness of thought.
June Poem 21
Destruction and creation
Into motion for posterity.
The world’s first beginnings
At the distant edges
The thing moves faster—
Faster as it converges.
I am the center
A universal spiral
All matter historian, void.
Motivated to coalesce,
Spin in a vortex, to become gain
Because I recognize even them.
It spins in reds, oranges, and whites.
Once down my face,
There is a tension.
My chest. Again lost.
I can feel the tears streaming.
Only this,
Tightness of sorrow.
I am lying
Face on my center.
I remember old arthritic knuckles
And wrinkles and wrinkled hands.
My hands are covered.
In red all—
The friends dead.
Write down the results.
Preserve the universe.
This is the event that causes me.
therichardbraxton 