Hot Breath

Posted on June 9, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

Canine king, find me, follow me

Whether dinnertime or downtime
Hot breath on my heels
Chops pressed ‘gainst my calf

Clickety-clacking claws, be unwilling to leave me be

Guard my steps, as I’m prone to frolic with frogs
Looking in wrong places for princes

No sixth-sense nonsense, your love

Imperfect Photograph

Posted on June 6, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

We, this imperfect photograph

Seemingly

In which nobody

Wants to be

Warped by wisdom

Invested in love

Honoring any of Earth

Touched at their edges by angels

Apologetic or ever redeemed

As evidenced by this Alone

Lead Off

Posted on June 5, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

My eyes stay on her
My third-eye coach at third base
My queen, my conscience

Brother Blend

Posted on June 4, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

Coffee, simple coffee

I do not ask for more

Not a finer blend than my nemesis
Nor a larger cup than my neighbor

I can cultivate the fruit on my own
If the sun is not stolen away

I can create a rich roast to crush
If my body is not relegated

Conversations we could have
My brother

Would I pour for you
Would you pour for me

Would we meet for coffee each day

Black White Light

Posted on June 3, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

Where is that storm I summoned
To keep me on my heels
From whom others retreat
As I instead advance

One with fierce energy
That will match intellects
Against all odds draw near
Whose heart I need not fear

Perch

Posted on May 29, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

Flowers
They’ve suffered at my hand
Frost
Did I discount them
Never
I, as would many others
Nurturers
Set them again in the sun
Believing
They would continue
Blooming

And All The People Said

Posted on May 28, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

Let the sounds in — all of them!

Have them ramble around, bouncing off the humidity-coated walls

See which ones bust through stop signs and find rhythm with bird songs

Find which ones look like quiet conviction and calls to action

Then mull about together, dialogue, and make sense of this world with them

Create order from disorder and call it good again

At the end of the day, we must

For the Birds: A Haiku

Posted on May 27, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

We sit, as a cat
In this window, affected
Uncontrollably

Traction

Posted on May 26, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

For me
Whether it be storied and short
Or miles long
Sweet sweat
At twilight time
When the day’s taken all it can
Yet, I’ve much, much more to give
To me

Blossom: A Haiku

Posted on May 25, 2020 by Lisa Rosier

LisaRosier.com

Now Lets Do This Thing

Tag Archives: Poetry

Hot Breath

Canine king, find me, follow me

Whether dinnertime or downtime
Hot breath on my heels
Chops pressed ‘gainst my calf

Clickety-clacking claws, be unwilling to leave me be

Guard my steps, as I’m prone to frolic with frogs
Looking in wrong places for princes

No sixth-sense nonsense, your love

Imperfect Photograph

Lead Off

My eyes stay on her
My third-eye coach at third base
My queen, my conscience

Black White Light

Where is that storm I summoned
To keep me on my heels
From whom others retreat
As I instead advance

One with fierce energy
That will match intellects
Against all odds draw near
Whose heart I need not fear

Perch

Flowers
They’ve suffered at my hand
Frost
Did I discount them
Never
I, as would many others
Nurturers
Set them again in the sun
Believing
They would continue
Blooming

And All The People Said

Let the sounds in — all of them!

Have them ramble around, bouncing off the humidity-coated walls

See which ones bust through stop signs and find rhythm with bird songs

Find which ones look like quiet conviction and calls to action

Then mull about together, dialogue, and make sense of this world with them

Create order from disorder and call it good again

At the end of the day, we must

For the Birds: A Haiku

We sit, as a cat
In this window, affected
Uncontrollably

Traction

For me
Whether it be storied and short
Or miles long
Sweet sweat
At twilight time
When the day’s taken all it can
Yet, I’ve much, much more to give
To me

Blossom: A Haiku

I’ll arrive on rain
That I’ll sooner quench your pain
As a love letter

Canine king, find me, follow me

Whether dinnertime or downtime Hot breath on my heels Chops pressed ‘gainst my calf

Clickety-clacking claws, be unwilling to leave me be

Guard my steps, as I’m prone to frolic with frogs Looking in wrong places for princes

No sixth-sense nonsense, your love

My eyes stay on her My third-eye coach at third base My queen, my conscience

img_2256Coffee, simple coffee

I do not ask for more

Not a finer blend than my nemesis Nor a larger cup than my neighbor

I can cultivate the fruit on my own If the sun is not stolen away

I can create a rich roast to crush If my body is not relegated

Conversations we could have My brother

Would I pour for you Would you pour for me

Would we meet for coffee each day

img_2227Where is that storm I summoned To keep me on my heels From whom others retreat As I instead advance

One with fierce energy That will match intellects Against all odds draw near Whose heart I need not fear

Flowers They’ve suffered at my hand Frost Did I discount them Never I, as would many others Nurturers Set them again in the sun Believing They would continue Blooming

Let the sounds in — all of them!

Have them ramble around, bouncing off the humidity-coated ￼walls￼￼

See which ones bust through stop signs and find rhythm with bird songs￼

Find which ones look like quiet conviction￼ and calls to action

Then mull about together, dialogue, and make sense of this world with them

Create order from disorder and call it good￼ again

At the end of the day, we must￼

We sit, as a cat In this window, affected Uncontrollably

For me Whether it be storied and short Or miles long Sweet sweat At twilight time When the day’s taken all it can Yet, I’ve much, much more to give To me

I’ll arrive on rain That I’ll sooner quench your pain As a love letter

Whether dinnertime or downtime
Hot breath on my heels
Chops pressed ‘gainst my calf

Guard my steps, as I’m prone to frolic with frogs
Looking in wrong places for princes

My eyes stay on her
My third-eye coach at third base
My queen, my conscience

Coffee, simple coffee

Not a finer blend than my nemesis
Nor a larger cup than my neighbor

I can cultivate the fruit on my own
If the sun is not stolen away

I can create a rich roast to crush
If my body is not relegated

Conversations we could have
My brother

Would I pour for you
Would you pour for me

Where is that storm I summoned
To keep me on my heels
From whom others retreat
As I instead advance

One with fierce energy
That will match intellects
Against all odds draw near
Whose heart I need not fear

Flowers
They’ve suffered at my hand
Frost
Did I discount them
Never
I, as would many others
Nurturers
Set them again in the sun
Believing
They would continue
Blooming

Have them ramble around, bouncing off the humidity-coated walls

See which ones bust through stop signs and find rhythm with bird songs

Find which ones look like quiet conviction and calls to action

Create order from disorder and call it good again

At the end of the day, we must

We sit, as a cat
In this window, affected
Uncontrollably

For me
Whether it be storied and short
Or miles long
Sweet sweat
At twilight time
When the day’s taken all it can
Yet, I’ve much, much more to give
To me

I’ll arrive on rain
That I’ll sooner quench your pain
As a love letter