I sit, sipping warmth
As the morning sun falls across the stairs
You are arriving soon, but not yet here
I wait to see you
To meet you
This house, made to be a home,
Full, but empty without you
Our final piece
The familial puzzle nearly complete
The picture on the box finally visible
I gulp the remaining life from my mug
I watch the shadows play across the room
The marching band, in the distance,
Heralding your arrival
Unwitting messengers of fate
I listen for your knock at the door
The telltale struggle to enter
Still I wait
from heaven above, beneath, and among,
these dark waters filled this world
if some dæmon in love bewrayeth more woe,
what shall betiden of necessity make?
till thou com’st home, thy sweet voice afar confounds me.
— Written with assistance from the Creative Writer keyboard app for iOS.
I’m quite enjoying this app. A friend of mine sent me one of her poems last week, and it was very beautiful—far more beautiful than my own, in afraid. I’ll have to ask her permission to share it.
Anyway, I performed edits to this one after it was finished, as some of the word choices I was given this time were the wrong tense or worked well if there was another word placed before it that had not been offered. The coolest thing, though, is how well it gets the mind turning. I could very easily see poems born entirely of this app by someone that knows not what they wish to write, but that discovers it upon looking at the words they have writ.
i will never forget july,
and all the little emptiness it creates
for her love was mine
and all the world was bright
The above poem was written using Creative Writer, an iPhone app that replaces the keyboard with a list of words that are suggested based on context (kind of like iOS’s QuickType feature on steroids). Be sure and check it out.
Fat, wet snowflakes
Blanket the wintry landscape
Trapping sound and eating echoes
Deep within our linen fortress
We stand against the cold
Cupping dark roast blend within our fingers
Listening to the silence
Finding tranquil peace
The mountain air setting us free
Silver forks dance across the horizon, illuminating the blue-grey afternoon sky
Droplets pelt the near-invisible screen before me, blocking the road from view
I slow, fearing I might lose control in a fog so thick they call it rain
Roadsigns slide by
Red eyes stare at me through the thicket
The beasts to which they are attached nothing more than dark shapes lumbering in obscurity
Soon the brambles relent, no longer tearing at the glass barrier separating us
Soft rays clamber through from above
I signal my intent and exit, leaving the dark forest of water behind
Praying that those wanderers still hidden within its depths find their path safely home
I love the sound of the wind through the leaves
As a summer storm rolls in at the 11th hour
The windows are open and I can feel the breeze pass over my sore shoulders and tired face
I breathe deep, the cool Midwest breeze; Westerly is its name
I am reminded of storms gone by, as I so often am at the end of summer
As the great giant’s footsteps are heard rumbling across the plains
Th pitter-patter of thousands of thousands tumble across my ears
I repress the urgent need to feel the drops kiss my skin, instead turning toward my bed
I lay awake and listen
If all nights could be this sweet
Beware the wold, the gimble in the wabe. For midnight comes and nocturnal desires thrash in the pitch. Knowledge is deadly, but death is cheap. Cut its purse and flee, for the raven and the mockingbird seek refuge.
All is not yet lost… yet you are.
Your skin shines in the firelight
And I can feel your heart beat against my chest
Ever so impatiently for my embrace
A simple caress
Soft lips on smooth skin
Your eyes sparkle and dance as the light plays around the room
Waiting to devour you
As I devour you
Your lips part in ecstasy and your eyes roll back
A soft cry escapes your lips before it is stifled
Your lack of breath makes it so
As does my kiss
Warmth pulsing, throbbing, draining
Until you go cold
Ecstasy gone as if life itself
I move on
Searching and hungry for more
• chemical impulses course throughout
• bio-electricity races across the surface
• irises dilate, optic nerves fill with light
• respiration heightens, oxygenated blood fills the head
• skin tingles as nerves hit full alert
• hair stands up, reaching for tactile connection
• heart pounds behind calcium prison bars, threatening to break free
• endorphins explode in the brain, near-perfect bliss
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went
The lamb was sure to go.
It followed her to school one day.
Which was against the rule.
It made the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school.
And so the teacher turned it out
But still it lingered near.
And waited patiently about
To kill the teacher here.
It waited for the bell to ring,
That half-demonic sheep.
And when the teacher stepped outside
Its vengeance she did reap.
It slit her throat from ear to ear.
It bit out her left eye.
Then Mary and the children came
To see dear teacher die.
The first few screamed and ran about.
A handful gasped and cried.
Mary’s wicked smile though
Was followed by a sigh.
And when the heathen sheep did roar
And spray red death around,
The children no more ran nor played
But wound up in the ground.
And Mary rode her demon sheep
Into the gates of Hell,
Where she did take the twisted crown
And forever wore it well.