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).
#11 “The Word”
If I forget the word I just replace it
with another language.
Now I have expanded my vocabulary
at least two fold.
More if you count hi, welcome,
goodbye and rainbow.
My first word was balloon
a mouthful for a baby, but I swallowed it
and floated high on a new language
I can only say balloon in English.
Some words are not meant for English,
like I love you
#12 “Cats in Snow”
Have you seen that movie “Shakespeare in Love”?
I am that Shakespeare, for when his fandom calls
for him to write a comedy, he cannot shove
aside his love for cruel intentions. Reading
a moment of melancholy, like a cat on a mountain,
a moment of nostalgia like a painting at home,
a moment of joy like a candle,
a moment of darkness, when it has gone out.
Too serious, maybe, for the taste of most,
too turned into life’s desperate treasures
at each end, extremes, he does not boast
of gentile waters, surely measures
life not with a meter of pretenders
but how many cats in snow you can remember.
#13 “The Wallet”
We hoped losing the wallet would be
like losing a shoe.
the finder could search me with
Upon finding me, after a test, we fall.
Not without trials against monsters.
Love from a battle.
Instead It is returned quietly,
unnamed, safe hands
no note, no ill will
lack of battles or fate
Neither monster nor monarch
SUDDENLY! with abandon
all the ants climbed high
and higher still flew the flies
and the rats burrowed below
where they reign.
The mound dwellings rose up,
Roses could stand taller.
See the mound! The sudden mound
validation of some sort, rising
as if the moon on a clean night
large at first but smaller as the night
bright at first but dimmer as the night
They say you can see stars
from the tallest of the Roses.
#15 “I Wonder If the City”
I wonder if
the city looks best
in the winter?
I’ve yet to see it
maybe snow will make it
clean, like sweeping dust
under the carpet.
Maybe the city will, instead
make the snow dirty,
drag the lace through the mud
and each snowfall covers
each week’s grime
a melting rock