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Author Archives: urbansonnets
361
When all the old rhymes cease to move and the heartbeat’s leathery bark chokes the mind from much-needed spark, what is left for the soul to prove? When humid downpours saturate brown silted streets, drowning pollen and dreams, while my … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized, Urban Sonnets
Tagged Asthma, Poem, Poetry, Sonnet, Urban Sonnets
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360
Corridors crammed with saucy self-concept likely to spill on the linoleum floor: “You got something to eat? Give me some. Thanks, good looks”: we are most likely inept Passion, patience. Green-yellow leaves fighting off winter in this hollow hill of … Continue reading
359
If anyone out there can hear the beat of my thickened heart inside my flooded chest, I ask (well aware that my life was blessed) for pity before my final defeat, at the hands of my words, my mind, my … Continue reading
358 (Trump Trump)
Trump Trump, trump Trump, trump Trump, trump Trump, trump Trump dump Trump, dump Trump, dump Trump, dumb Trump, dump Trump “You rollin’ like Trump, you get your meat lumped.” Lump Trump, lump Trump, lump Trump, lump Trump, lump Trump: Punk … Continue reading
A series of furtive haiku written while sitting around at a french birthday that was actually a wedding/baptism.
1 Time has really stopped People speak of potatoes and other cool things. 2 One leaves one’s leaves once Return is impossible I have one leaf left. 3 My stomach is strong like a wild boar in summer I am … Continue reading
357 (Survival Tactics)
Outside of Rennes births certainly happen but I must escape the felicity with a cimarrón perspective: strap in independent thought and audacity It’s a mental move, for we are stuck here under the wincing willow I must sit Lord, I … Continue reading
356
Slaving over strings with all the oils easing the way, fighting off sleepy time as the rain crashes the glass; water boils and the boy remembers sounds of his prime. This was before the fall, the deception of blues and … Continue reading
355
Against the backdrop of diminished time with ragged breath and flagging hopes of truth a world of night and day, of faith and crime gyrates itself upon the zeal of youth: My lungs are sore with every single breath yet I fill my … Continue reading
354
Let us briefly consider the walrus with tusks and whiskers on its grizzled face; A complex creature that is not soulless, so save your hubris for some other place: It maintains the coastal ecosystem with its foraging nature and diet, … Continue reading
353
What is beauty but temporary lights flashed from unknowable fonts of purpose on the formlessness of space from great heights or the old forms of Death’s ruined corpus? A disservice to mention unity of forms and matters pertaining to taste unless … Continue reading
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