#MicroPoetry Overload // June - August 2011

What is micro poetry you ask?

Well it is poetry for the ADD generation, poetry for the Social Media sluts offering up there minds, souls, and hearts to anyone that will read their 140 characters, or less. It is something I was introduced to by my good friend and fellow writer, Caroline Slee. Cara and I met in high-school, but our pens were lovers before we were born. Despite living states away for the majority of our relationship, we seem to always be able to find comfort in each others writings. I saw her making #micropoetry posts on Twitter back in May, and by the end of June I was all in. For me, it provides an opportunity to give life to the words inside my head, words that do not have time to materialize into a full-blown poem but may have enough poetic merit to justify a quick tweet.

Recently another high-school friend and writer (I know cool people, what can I say), Karen Greene, encouraged me to capture my #micropoetry posts, which I had not been doing. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right.

This is a culmination of all of my #micropoetry tweets from June through August. I have stripped them of their Twitter formatting, so they feel more like Tiny Poetry. Hope you enjoy!

And you
With permanent eyes
Gaze at me
Like you found something familiar

And I
Tired eyes
Watch your chest rise and fall
Pray we'll share this sunrise

I do not trust this sky
Opaque clouds blacken horizon where you should live
You have forsaken us

My fingers
Tangled in tangles
Your fingers
Attached to back
Our lips lust locked

And I
Live in the space between stillness and chaos
And you
Stare at me from the fringes

World before windshield
Flush with curves and empty lanes
Darkness in rear view

Sunshine warms cement
Clouds splinter the sky
Children pray for explosions

And I
Woke with the manufactured image
Of me inside you
And your face
As I moved deeper

With exhausted eyes
I navigate the morning by feel
Like a blind man absent cane

You
Full of intent
Look at me with daisy eyes
And I return the smile

Thickening self
Still wearing a ring of your lipstick
Greets the morning before eyes can say hello

As rotations of sun
Quick and uncontrollable
Create blurred horizons
I lean on friends
Find myself in their eyes

Your kiss
While welcome in winter
Saddens in summer
Burns limbs
Blinds eyes
Brings beads that fall from foreheads

Your words
Ride fissures
Hang on neurons
Float between synaps3
Land on receptors that make me feel

Open eyes to empty space
The sacred place where your head should be
Left untouched
For you

In completion of another rotation around the sun
A full Cancer moon smiles down on me
And I am content

My summer hand
Caressing your sun starved skin
Beneath blue hue bedroom light

Buried beneath Blankets
Eyes find peephole
Investigation produces reassurance
Morning is here

Your body
Parallel to ground
Moves with abandon
Contracts
Pulls emotions inward
Releases
Effortless

Sun
An arm's length away
Shrinks pupils
Cooks skin
Controls days
Oppresses

Palms
Nervous
Fingers
Tangled
Footsteps try to find shared rhythm
Arms sway in new love unison

Your fight befuddles me
Cries of proletariat fall on deaf ears
As you hold tight ill-conceived convictions

Foreign flavors
Touch tongue
Send shimmers
Evoke emotions
Produce pleasure

I dream of Silence
Like I heard that time in Alaska
One thousand yards of separation
Snow swallowing sound
Silence

Pinned to mattress
Immobile
Eyelids cemented shut
Ears deaf to inane buzzing
Mind in deep reflection
Exhausted

You
With intoxicating eyes and dazzling smile
Me
With fluttering senses and short breath
Dance in silence

And I
Awake
Moon high
Shades drawn
Streets empty
Embrace morning
Like a friend I am happy to see

And you who taught me to taste
Bring warm smiles with your antics and laughter
Make me grateful to know you

And you whose eyes have seen the same seas
Held me when I collapsed
Became family

And you who road my rollercoaster with me
Screams pulled from lungs to mouth
Now teach me to live calm

Close eyes with you on my mind
Your journey
Peak to valley to summit
Your strength
Your love
Inspires

Speechless moment
Three deep in recovery dreams
I trapped between solid yellow and broken white
Thought of you

I close my eyes in reflection
As the city beneath the sea stitches another memory on my heart
Forever binding us

I
Try to silence the head words
They
Only quiet when eyes close
Wake restless and loud

You who have seen my zenith and my nadir
Understand my orbit
Predict my course like plotting ancient charts

And you
Who can make me laugh in silence
Understand
The key to Forever is found in my smile

Waking
Sounds of Earth's energy and her magnificent light show
Calms
Makes me want to lie here for days

And I question it all
37
Functioning like I am 21 with more money
Working more than living
Living instead of sleeping
Empty

Painted sky
Smoke dissipates into desert canvas
Gentle burn of morning joe
AC units prepare for rise of Day's eye

Returning to the womb
I am reminded of the me apart from we
The streets haunted and words written
The birth of man

Silence
Interrupted by shuffling feet on morning tiles
Returns
When lights dim and bedrooms are full

You stalk me when eyes close
A face I cannot escape
A name I cannot place
You stare at me like I should know

I will miss bustling mornings with no agenda
Returning, instead, to the silent rush of a schedule dictated by tasks

With head on pillow I contemplate chess
Aggressive offense absent forethought reveals weakness
I attempt to evade Mate

And I look for your face
The face that haunts me
In the Red Face Sea
You a ghost

Sunburned masses
Migrate from Blue to Orange
While early risers occupying middle ground flip chairs in unison

I am happy
When daydreams of stage lights and audiences partaking in the communion of music
Hush white noise and routine

You with ancient finger and sad limbs
Tap my window
Let me know the barren season is near
Days of summer fade

Alright, now that you have read them, I do want to clarify one thing about me as a writer. The ubiquitous "You" is rarely an actual person, rather an ideal, a construct. However, there are definitely poems in this batch that are directed to a person. I did a series for my friends, so they would know how much they meant to me, but for the most part they aren't about anyone in particular. So as much as your inquiring mind would like to read into the salacious matters of my life, just know you are probably wrong.