Poetic Form 5: Haiku

June wind angry--

I watch the trees

bend away from me

Poetic Form #5: Haiku

This is my attempt at a traditional haiku from the guidelines provided at Haiku World.

Poetry Challenge Day 13: Purpose

I Write

I write

    to fill the blank page in my heart

    creating the letters

        capitals

        and lowercase

    between the solid blue lines

        just above the dotted line

    with just a touch of my own personal style

I write

    to understand what is right

    in the midst of all that is wrong

        anger 

        and pain

    filling the headlines in bold letters

        using a simpler font

    I sift through today with a pencil

I write

    to worship the power of the word

    that creates the reality of now

        joy

        and love

    to be discovered in the space

        on the paper in front of us

    creation is found in the written words

I write

    to bring the past forward

    to connect to my children’s future

        history

        and possibility

    combine in a single purpose that reveals

 why the story of their life

    started with me writing between blue lines

I Know the Devil Fancies Me

*inspired by a line from the song, “St. Ideas,” from Macklemore (in italics)

I know the devil fancy me

When the light fades from my heart

Walls are constructed in minutes

Doubt, in a hard hat, bossing the workers,

    megaphone turned up

Fear laying down bricks after anger applies the mortar

I guess Love is on an extended coffee break

    because the truck sits empty

And there is the devil, smiling over the blueprints

    of the house we will live in

He dreams of family dinners alone

Drinking his favorite spirits in a dark living room

“Oh what a life we will build,”

    he whispers into my soul

“Think of all the empty photo albums we will fill

    with what could have been

The minutes, the hours, the years recorded with just a dash

    on a headstone that no one visits

I promise you these will be hurtful years”

But that don't mean that *****  gets to dance with me

I grab a backpack, fill it with a few books,

    past love letters, paper, and pens

Turn toward the devil to throw him the keys

He rolls the blueprints tightly in his hands until the ink

    flows like blood between his knuckles

Hate drops the iron door he was preparing to hang

All construction stops

The devil takes my hand as if to dance, inquires

    “Where do you think you’re going?”

I pull free, declining the invitation to move

    into a house that isn’t home

“I’m joining Love for coffee,” I say as I walk away

To the teen sitting on the step

I am approaching a four way intersection

on a summer weekday

Stop signs making traffic hitch and pause

As people wonder what the rule is for who goes first

You are sitting on the step of the house

at the corner

Dressed in all black

black shoes

black socks

black shorts

black shirt

dark hair

Your arms are wrapped around your knees

Chin hiding behind your forearms

Your head moves slightly with each car passing

I turn my gaze back to the traffic

I wonder what is going on

Did you not take the garbage out when asked?

Is he drinking already (it’s two in the afternoon)?

Did she end it with a text message?

Or were you told, again, how worthless you are?

I am now in the stop sign queue

four cars to go

Debating if I should turn to look at you

Now that I am almost parallel to you

I recognize the body language

closed

feet tapping

caged

yet afraid to run

I chance it

our eyes meet

I can see the red highlights around your eyes

Feel the hate expressed through the

    “What are you looking at?” expression

We break our glance at the same time

I feel guilty that I can’t change anything

    because I’ve sat there on my own step

I push the gas pedal down

crossing the intersection

Glancing into my review mirror

I see you are still sitting

Slowly becoming smaller as I  head to school

to be certified

By the Red Cross

to save a life.