Mini Haiku Day :)

Just a little Haiku today :)
And this is a first because I've never written a poem about this particular person before.



How to make me smile:
the scintillating ocean
in your eyes would help.

A Distinguished Journey

I saw a giant hawk today;
It looked me in the eyes.
And with its shining angel wings
it took me to the skies.

From the air I saw the world;
All emerald and small.
And though the bird was shook by wind
I did not fear the fall.

Soaring over mountains tall
and oceans just as green,
I saw the treasures of the Earth
as I had never seen.

Approaching near to heaven,
but closer to the Earth,
I was as close to perfect
as I had been since birth.

At last he set me down again
upon the sparkling dust,
I'd rather just go on with him,
but return to life I must.

The Dreamer

The worst day of my life
appeared before my eyes,
as swiftly as the wind,
as silent as my cries.

The day they found my secret
was the day they strapped me down.
They wanted color - beauty -
but my world was black and brown.

Before, the world was vibrant
and I lived my life in bliss.
My secret once was special;
My secret here is this:

Everything I dream
becomes reality.
They make me sleep for their rewards
and all the waste is me.

Past

I wrote this for poetry class a while ago (2/3/10), but I really liked how it turned out:

I Know a Man
By: Robert Creeley

As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking,—John, I

sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what

can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,

drive, he sd, for
christ’s sake, look
out where yr going.


I Have a Friend
By: Kate Ratliff

And then I tld my
friend, because I am
always talking, -Dan, I

dclrd, which was his
name, your soul lasts for-
ever, please

do not fight against
it, or else, you'll leave &
why not, spend that time in heaven,

live, he sd, for
crying out
loud, yr going to die.

The Shepherd

The peaceful shepherd
dozing against warm
wood of a pasture
fence.

Where sheep live like kings
in a peasant's square
protected and fed
and led.

The shepherd's grand----
cries weakly - but why
are you not in the
world, living?

A crinoline reply
floats above the sweetgrass.
Where would I
be without them?

To be broken many times is to disappoint the speaker

When he was young,
he was broken and tired
with words constantly swallowed.
they'd crunch and snap in half - those
sharp consonants.
The vowels were another thing
altogether. Their soft flow
down his throat filled his stomach,
right up to the top until.......he
gave them up fantastically.
Presently, the words assemble on the
page, stacked in neat rows.
row after row after row.
But the white ice of paper
and coal of ink
do not
emote.
For by the face connections construct themselves.
So now, he is not broken
but he will break again.

The Ruins of a Perfect Situation

I would like nothing more
than to knock upon your door,
I'd be silent, that's a perk,
as we do our stacks of homework.

The sounds of cool tunes
will fill the spaces of the room,
but I can't do that anymore,
you've put a lock upon the door.