The Mezunian

Die Positivität ist das Opium des Volkes, aber der Spott ist das Opium der Verrückten

& Then It Leaves Me (HOJAS MUERTAS EN EL SUELO SUCIO CUANDO YO SEPA QUE NO ESTÁS AQUÍ)

To all the

chewy chocolate that’s

‘tween my teeth,

to the tears

o’ stormy clouds both

sour & sweet,

to early

evenings’ smeared lemon

restless lights,

to bus wheels’

jingling thunder-struck

keys on kites,

to flapping

jackets that make the

cool winds warm,

to clapping

firs both ecstatic

& forlorn,

to the tea

& coffee scorching

cherry leaves,

to the bats

that flap their purple

tapestries,

to night planes

giving me a wink

as they pass,

to sluggish

November lunchtime’s

foggy mask,

to the wood

spiders chillin’ on

the drywall,

to skylarks

shrinking into blues

without calls,

to pop-up

ghosts drenched darkly with

neon green,

to buttered

toast drenched starkly in

strawberries,

to the gift

that mixes the moon

& the sun,

to the warm

opposites present

within the

light that’s only bright surrounded

by so many crevices so

dark. Don’t not be gloomy: fountains

freeze next year still always missed, though,

still when I watch shadow pines

brushing far away I find

like I almost like to pine

death’s demise

shaped like fallen maple twigs.

Autumn’s cut so thin.

Hope I get to ‘gain begin…

Posted in Haiku, Senryu y amigos, Metered, Mezunian Sonnet, Poetry