Aubade

Just a few months ago, I had to google the word "aubade" to learn what this particular type of poem is... now, I actually know what it means. So, I tried my cheeky little hand at one.


Aubade

A sonnet could describe your hair;
sandy and tousled under my chin,
and your freckled shoulders tangled in the stripes -
but a neat fourteen lines can’t capture
the way I begrudge the light
playing across your face.
The sunshine gets to spend each day with you,
piquing my jealousy.

The quiet comfort
as I brush my teeth and watch
your peaceful stillness -
- cannot adequately be explained in a haiku.

O, waking!
Sinews stretch toward a new day,
releasing a sigh for the passing of another night.
Sleepy, smiling eyes meet,
spreading a warmth neither an ode
nor the covers could contain.

Peanut butter kisses preclude reluctant responsibilities –
like clockwork, the garage door rises with the sun.
You walk away,
I steel myself against the glare,
and another aubade is complete.


July 26, 2010

From tweet to poem

"Sitting outside KS Union, feeling nostalgic about moving away from campus, freshman orientationites passing by. A nice full circle moment."
- about 21 hours ago via web


Disorientation

Stickers peeling and glossy bags swinging – they’ve arrived.
Clutch that folder tight; it holds all the answers – for now.
I, the wizened old veteran, sit silently watching,
desperately waving through thick air
in a vain attempt to catch a few more remembered moments
of grounded familiarity – even as they slide away
into new, uncharted territory.

Cracking numbers on a pilling t-shirt aren’t all that dates me –
walking shoes well-worn, an iPod dented by Oread concrete,
and subtle impressions from a five-year furrowed brow
separate me from the crisp, shiny silk screens in their hands.
They, too, will earn their blisters, scratches, and creases,
and they will inevitably be replaced as they replace me,
but these bricks and stones will continue to keep watch
as they always have.

July 8, 2010

Quiet

Things are changing a lot right now, and you know my feelings on change. Although this set of changes is beautiful and welcome and a long time coming, I've been discombobulated and have had a hard time finding my own words lately. They've been overshadowed by the re-definition of everything around me - rediscovering music has been a particular obsession: some lyrics, long loved and hoped for, finally ring true while old standbys are suddenly strangers, which is endlessly fascinating to me... but inevitably, this lends too much credit and meaning to the words of others. So, it's been a little while since an insta-poem has visited me - but in the quiet of this evening, it's a refreshing feeling. Suggestions are welcome.



Being a solid ball of light is hardly ever easy.
Liquid energy rushing within, seeking escape;
I’m full of bees, and believe me, making honey is taxing work.
Mercifully, you instill total calm because it’s what you need from me,
and therefore what I need from you.
Like pouring smoke on a hive, the buzzing stops.

July 2, 2010