This past August I participated in the August Poetry Postcard Fest, where I wrote 30 poems on postcards to strangers. All the poems were written “on the spot” with no prior planning and shipped off. In return, I received 30 postcards from strangers. So in this 6 piece installment, I will share those poems that I wrote and sent off into the world. I decided they would all be sonnets, of some sort. All presented to you without edits (aka first drafts).
#6 “All Friends that Meet”
All friends that meet and laugh in common goals,
that wander through the night waxing poetic.
All friends that gather ’round their watering holes
and share in their unique worldly aesthetic.
We toast to them as they do toast to us,
in secret love and secret competition,
we sleep with them and so they slander us.
We bore them with our weekly repetition
as they bear their own. We count our blessings
as they compliment each one condemns
the other, for the compliment they’re givings
sometimes is just the meaning to an end.
But meanings mean, and all ill fortunes hide
when we have friends who’ve toasted at our side.
#7 “Yesterday, in the Sunshine”
They didn’t think there would be tears,
yesterday in the sunshine,
or in the night before with hands close
they didn’t think there would be tears
walking down the stairs, bags packed
still so humid
yet not summer anymore
they’re never coming back.
They didn’t think there would be tears
on realizing they’re never coming back
let emotions block traffic
can’t hold each other tight enough
they know it will be years before
they block the streets again.
#8 “I Miss Airports”
If I say I miss airport would you know
my meaning? When I write of breathing air
so fresh my heart started, do you care
that I write of breathing you? You go
across the oceans daily, here am I
on the shore surrounded by the people
of the city. Let it be your people,
your city, let it be your bright and starless sky.
Where is your moon, now, love?
Where is your rainbow, the rain?
Which stars disappear in your eyes?
Can I call you love?
I can’t explain
the changing skies.
#9 “Eugene is My Sister”
Eugene is my sister
this is a rant about the government,
about science, genetics,
about the world I protect.
Eugene is my sister, I’m not the first
to say it, not the last
each year I watch others rant
on the same screen.
My young eyes looked upon Eugene
and built a tower out of boxes
young lives in a walk-in closet
deciding the future.
This movie is in black and white.
This movie dreams in color.
Spend and hour’s pay on a book
probably worth it
movies cost an hour’s pay, too
back in the day the Kinoscopes or whatever
one hour for your daily entertainment,
one each for lunch and dinner, two for
transportation, forty for your roof
three for birthday parties, presents
six when you need a suit
how strange it is to trade one hour for two,
or eight, or thirty minutes
bartering with bodies
bargaining with the clock.