Tag Archives: Fight
The Bond
My condolences in advance
When dawn dawns
When your light proves up
How you’ve chosen one who doesn’t choose you
When without masks, you’ve given freely of yourself
In vulnerability
In honesty
Maybe messy, but as a firework
To a soul-less soul
One steeped in habits of hiding and avoidant attachment
Devoid of words or a will to stay
Champion yourself, champion, and know you’ve fought the good fight
Though you fought alone
Though you shadow boxed
Know that next time, there’ll be no next time
No room for their prose in your poem
Win or Draw: A Haiku
Whence comes 5 o’clock
I expect you here on time
For our Friday Fight
Melanin in Me
Don’t be sad for my curves where there often aren’t
They feel fine on my long German bones
The Irish-ilked will in me fist-fights eternally
With my most straightforward Grecian nose
Would that it be soon my silvery strands, earned with my Norwegian blood
Make merry with my Polka feet
Single Torch
I took all the light in lieu
A select vessel
And with these, vanished to a sunnier place on high
I didn’t ask
Though it still pains me that no one put up a fight
There is more East now than ever before
Here, the Sunflowers turn their faces skyward
Earth and stars seem everywhere
The May-blooming Magnolia disappeared with me, too
Gracious, though
I left a single torch and White Tulips
For my shadow, who remains there, sometimes
Rings and Trophies
To feel average again
Shuffling, schlepping
Commonplace companionship
Shopping for cozy and sundries
Is all I rage against
I’ve stepped onto some tundra
Passion, as Venus, accompanies me
Silver runs through my veins
Kisses while troublemaking
Too much sweetness to turn back
There are low moments
They become me, though
I look fine in such transition time
Intercepting the unsuspecting dark
Catch my breath then find the zone
Mr. Right: A Haiku
I’m worth it despite
You’d not seen fit to fight it
The good fight for me
The Good Fight: A Haiku
I have been wished for
Time will see that I’m fought for
Cherished and cared for
Mormon Row
With grateful paintbrush in hand, I am leaving space for you
A beautiful a background, careful, I capture the sun
Find now open an area broad enough and close enough to the sky
That your shoulders might fit and comfortably give rest to what is
I know not the shape of you, tho’ your colors, you’ve made clear
Bright-dark weathered patina that complements my tempest greens
Vivid chards of amber to offset my mountainous blues
Your easy frame an open window, a willing respite
Fighting your way, straight to the foreground of me, for me
Withstanding, will they find us, the very wildest of climes