Haiku How-To
count your syllables like claps of thunder or hands zen state will follow —Sarah Torribio Sign in to see full entry.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
fire pit
your face shifts when flames lick summer shadows: rabid cat rabbit's scream Rudolph Valentino Saddam Hussein how do I look when flames lick my summer shadows? —Sarah Torribio Sign in to see full entry.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Omen
I've glimpsed my wretched future and it's death by minotaur. I mask my fear with food and sex and songs by Pat Benatar. —Sarah Torribio Sign in to see full entry.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Fred Astaire haiku
king of debonaire play with Newton's gravity your moves need no laws —Sarah Torribio Sign in to see full entry.
Monday, March 17, 2008
Pheromone pas de deux
I fall off my high heels and into your arms. The red of my lipstick gives off an alarm. You give me a look like a hound on the scent. And I, easy prey, take your hand and the hint. —Sarah Torribio Sign in to see full entry.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Ceremony
I kissed you behind the dovecote to the sound of cooing doves. You said, "My dear, what better place to confess undying love?" I married you near the beehives, to the hum of that droning choir. We toasted with their nectar, then threw our mugs on the fire. We made love by the plashing pond— that vat... Sign in to see full entry.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Clown (acrostic poem)
Curious habit, hiding Loneliness with a painted grin. Out with the real you— With sad times and smaller shoes. Now hang up your suit. —Sarah Torribio Sign in to see full entry.
Dreams (acrostic poem)
Dance your fingers through Rose petals gilded by Eros himself (eternal Valentine!) And then, wash them in Madras silk, until they Shine like star-kissed eyelids —Sarah Torribio Sign in to see full entry.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Panic
I am a scared white rabbit, fleeting and pink of eye. Gravity hunts me like prey; I clutch grassblades and gape at the sky. Sign in to see full entry.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
The slatternly sea
The ocean is really a terrible slob, says the part of myself that's a bit of a snob. It throws blackish-green tangles of weed on the sand, while its breath—brackish, fishy—envelops the land. Sign in to see full entry.