Published on
February 11, 2009 in
Poetry and Writing.
Tags: beast, bedroom, boy, camel, closet, dream, haiku, nightmare, parents, Poetry, shoes, sleep, Writing, young.
I’m running as quickly as I can, my bare feet flashing out in front of me and slapping the hard white sand. As I run, I notice the vast emptiness of this place and it terrifies me. How am I to get to safety? Where can I go? I notice a black curved line in the distance and change direction, surging toward it as fast as my small body can take me. He is still behind me. I don’t see him so much as I get a sense of him back there, his presence a taint on my very being. A flash of his face overwhelms me with fear and I try to run faster. It’s like a camel’s face, but blood red and with dripping yellow fangs. His ears are longer than a camel’s, and he suddenly calls in some way, raising his head briefly to the sky. What does that mean? Are others coming? He’s too fast. I come to the black line and see that it is a road. No. It isn’t a road, it is a frozen black river in the middle of this desert. I get the sense that he can’t cross this. If I cross I’ll be safe. I leap almost recklessly down the bank and skid across the ice toward the safety of the other side. My left foot thumps onto the soft sand along the far bank. Just as it lands, he’s there looming over my right shoulder, his fangs sinking into my flesh. My voice joins his as we scream to the sky.
I wake up panting. I’m terrified and I want my mother, so I get out of bed and venture into the darkness. The big circular rug is there in the next room and I lay down on it, gathering the nerve to enter my parents’ bedroom. Will they be angry with me for waking them? I play with one of the orange tassels on the rug then get up, walking into their room. There is no darkness greater or deeper than the darkness of their room as they sleep. I lose my nerve. I find my way to their closet and climb inside, losing myself in the safety of the confined space and the scent of shoes. I drift off to sleep, safe from the creature.
two in the morning –
a nightmare beast comes calling
in a young boy’s dream
Frigid Morning walk
by M.J. Adams
frigid morning walk
winter caresses my cheek
while I wait for spring
Published on
February 1, 2009 in
Poetry and Writing.
Tags: argument, chapped, face, haiku, hand, holding, Japanese, stinging, stupid, tears.
Stupid Argument
by M.J. Adams
stupid argument
hot tears stinging my chapped face
as she holds my hand
Published on
January 31, 2009 in
Poetry and Writing.
Tags: air, airport, arrivals, baggage claim, body, caramel, eyes, flight, forest, gold, haiku, Japanese, jelly, kiss, light, limbo, love, luggage, mangrove, meeting, moon, Poetry, prose, sea, security, skin, sundarbans, tears.
Pittsburgh airport, and I’ve just landed. I’m expecting to see her somewhere, and search for her face as I make my way out of the obstacle course of Arrivals and security. I feel as if it is taking too long, like wading through a mangrove forest, the Sundarbans of my emotions choking me off from functioning as my bipedal nature intends. I start to worry, because I can’t find her. My flight was delayed and I’m worried she’s gone. I can only hang around security so long, so I start to head toward the plane of oblivion known as baggage claim. Here people are usually trapped in a state of limbo as they watch the dice roll. A lucky roll will produce the correct bags, an unlucky one produces a conversation in a tiny office full of diagrams of luggage and detailed forms to complete. Strangely, there are few people here. I seem to be quite alone.
As I round a corner, my heart stops. My body no longer exists. I’m floating on a warm jelly substance toward a glowing light. Her hair is like liquid gold, her skin like a smooth white moon and the glow around her destroys my life and creates it anew. I barely manage to contain the confused tears which fight to gain the touch of air. As I draw near, her scent envelopes me like a layer of hot caramel. When I touch her, I feel like a newborn foal struggling to understand its own limbs. Is my touch foul or offensive? My very soul begs her to take my life for being unworthy. As I kiss her, I feel hot inside. The essence of her is burning the wrongness inside of me away. I look into her eyes and see the real sea. This isn’t that tropical blue but rather the blue-grey of the storm tossed sea, the sea reflecting the half light of dawn and dusk, the sea of the north, the sea of her people. This sea has a thickness, a luster and a heart. This sea is the sea of her eyes. I dive in and never come out.
empty baggage claim:
one heart alone departing
where two had arrived
Published on
January 24, 2009 in
Poetry and Writing.
Tags: attack, Beijing, blood, china, haiku, Japanese, leg, national treasure, panda, Poetry, poetry challenge, third victim.
It’s been a while since I posted any Poetry Challenge related material, but I thought I’d quickly post one I actually received and wrote a while ago, but never got around do posting. This was poetry challenge number five and it was sent by my friend Frank:
“Here’s a challenge-
Panda attack in Beijing
‘The panda is a national treasure, and I love and respect [him], so I didn’t fight back,’ Zhang said. ‘The panda didn’t let go until it chewed up my leg and its mouth was dripping with my blood.’”
Well, at first this just made me laugh and then I looked it up. It turns out this panda (named Gu Gu) is something of a bully and has attacked more than one person. More details can be found here including this wonderful gem:
“A year earlier, state media reported that a drunken tourist tried to hug the panda, who bit him. In an odd twist, the tourist reportedly bit back.”
Anyway, I didn’t have a lot of time to do the challenge so I just did a quick humorous (hopefully) haiku. I hope you enjoy it.
National Treasure
by M.J. Adams
national treasure –
the leg loving panda and
his blood-stained muzzle