| (no subject) |
[Sep. 16th, 2009|09:30 pm] |
and when the wing tip dipped and the plane began to pitch,
i saw our shadow, dark and silent,
like some great and monstrous thing upon the water |
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| a poem |
[Sep. 2nd, 2009|02:42 am] |
his fingers pluck each string like a spider's web
constellations soar and the wind is at his back |
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| Forest Lawn |
[Aug. 25th, 2009|05:49 pm] |
Today I rode my bike to Forest Lawn cemetery.
I saw a man standing so still, I thought he was a statue;
And a statue so lifelike, I thought it was a man.
I decided I want to be cremated and buried in the earth,
no urn, preferably under some trees.
My plaque will have a cross, my name,
the years of my birth and death,
a picture of my face (if possible),
and a few words written by my family and friends. |
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| girl |
[Aug. 25th, 2009|01:54 pm] |
She looks.
She sees.
She writes.
She adjusts her glasses
And my heart skips a beat.
She wears earrings in the shape of roots.
The same as last week.
They remind me of earth
And I feel grounded.
Her hair stops at the base of her neck
And she is Japanese.
Lost in my thoughts,
I ponder our possible future.
Hand in hand, we walk through a park,
And sit on a bench, exchanging stories.
As she bend forward to pick up a pen,
Again my heart skips a beat.
I am breathless. |
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johnsinger's journal