View Full Version : Sorry's poems

02-08-06, 02:48 AM
Hi guys, I've been at these forums for a while now, I didn't even *know* there was a poetry section! I wrote these last year, I hope you enjoy 'em!

Beats me. (a dream poem)

Sun blooming in the backyard,

And raining heavily.

Thin scent of rain and the sun ,

Everything shines.

A dogwood tree

And within its each leaf,

pools of water.

So beautifully clear and magnified are these grassy turtles inside each

Great leaf, a cooling pool of water for each,

In the sun, on the right, sounds of birds and rain.

And now on the left slope,

a same tree,

With leaves that each hold

A member to

An openmouthed choir of cat-heads,

All synchronous and drowning,

In the very pooled leaves out from they growÖ

And the cat tree is a mangrove dogwood.

It is hip deep in aquarium water,

I can see the bottom.

I am hip deep in the bottom, I can see the shingled hump

Of a Great Crayfish buried in the silt, alive or dead.

Up there, cats are dropping through the surface, fighting.

and farther down the slope

cats have already drowned,

their wrinkled faces bowed and forgiving,

Sail over me, as bulbing bronze ornaments.

The sun blooms out down here,

The cats are leaving down a gentle slope in monkish file.

And in this solitude am I in such awe as I have not felt in very long.

Then the sun opens,

And someone puts their hand down my pants.

I jolt to waking, shower and brush,

And wonder what all the turtles were about.

Whew! Crazy stuff!, here's another favorite:

Unseasonably cold night

My habitual heel-stepping

Has put me by purest accident, behind a woman.

At bottom center of the black crown of sleeping law.

She doesnít know Iím here, yet.

And its then from nowhere,

A black man dashes

Her body, like a plucking string, Hmm;


My black man is powerful sick,

Sick by Savannah, look at white girl like she own this****.

Sheís not the

Lovely juggernaut that

Pummels me in the day;

Only a ripped mitten blowing away.

And more briars boil out

My pockets and zippers.

And my man knows it, too; he lurches a bit,

Taller between each intermittent

Left to right, left to right.

A hazelnut pops under his shoe and

Her head flicks,

And then


A grin

He licks

His nose.


Forcibly slow, her wind

Wet eyes

Turn now a wide


Exhausted anger at;


A frightened boy and his shadow, Is all.

His cold fingers a wealthy white, still

Something wrong with him, what?

His is

No face, at all;

But an ear.

On a turned head.

And so singular in its

Unfriendly attention,

That she can not blink.

That I finally smile,


(I was living in Savannah GA when I wrote this; on a side note, I guess it helps to know that that city
has a bit of a crime problem, mostly hold-ups and such but the odd heinous crime did pop up.)

Thanks for reading!

02-08-06, 02:58 AM
(here's another tiny one I just dug up)

In my car
The key is turning;

Click after click,

And then clunk,

And then ignition.

I look left and right,

But itís useless.

The house has gotten cold.

Today the door downstairs was pulled open twice by the wind.

Please donít be dead.

Please donít it be you thatís doing that.