Stovetop

the element glows,
red and pretty.
i want it.
but it's hot;
the electric glow burns.

but it's still pretty
and i still want it.
so i try again.
and this time it doesn't hurt.

but the coil is stuck.
i can't pull it out.

so i try again
but the heat's back.
and it burns.

but it's still pretty
and i still want it.
so i keep trying
to pull
it
out.

Note: this is incomplete, but I wanted to get it down before I went to sleep. Also not sure I'll get back to it, but I have plans for it.

Into the Jungle

Creepers and weeds bar the way
into the jungle before me.

I can weave a path
around the branches
through the fence that blocks me

Or hack and slash my way
through the dense, overgrown brush
that would be easy to find again.

As I try to decide
I slip my knife
from its leather sheath at my waist.

The sunlight glances
off the polished blade
penetrating the dark green leaves ahead
distracting me from my reverie.

I replace the knife
and buckle its case
as I push a vine out of the way.

As I take my first step
thorns grab at my clothes.

My pants snag and tear;
my shirt and jacket are next;
but I force my way in
past the resistance.

As I move farther in
I collect cuts and scratches
and let the woods close behind me.

I'm shut in now.
I don't know if I'll find my way out.

But it's not uncomfortable in here.

Emotion Extraction

It sticks inside,
All around.
I can't get it off.
Time to concoct
that protein solution
again.

So I push play,
and let the rhythm collect,
and let the molecules bind,
and let the sticky dissolve.

Then I pull out the plug,
and watch it seep out,
and it leaves me clean.

And it leaves me empty.

topsy, turvy

topsy, turvy,
the wave crashes
and the boat lists.

topsy, turvy,
the boat tilts
and the passengers slip.

topsy, turvy,
the deck becomes ocean
and we're floating in the sea.

the topsy, turvy
world begins to shrink
as the walls close in.

the topsy, turvy
juices rise
and break out.

A Highway at Night Part 2

The fog has
cleared, and now
all I see
is empty road
ahead of me,
so I press
on the gas.

The world outside
becomes a blur.
I must be
in a Toyota
because the pedal's
stuck, and the
brakes have failed.

I've lost control.
I should see
my exit soon,
but I'm moving
so fast that
I think I
might miss it.

Ocean Gray

The crisp, cool wind
blows in my face
as I look out at the sea.

I walk along
the rocky shoreline,
staring at the gray water,
and I suddenly realize

I'm lost.

So I jump in,
lie on my back,
and look up at the cloudy sky.

And I let the current carry me
home.

Firepit

The words that come
are drab. Unfeeling.
Who knew words
could carry no meaning?

But this time they have
no meaning to wear.
They just take up space
in the pit where

the fire usually ignites
and burns itself out.
There's no spark tonight
aching to get out,

but I stack the logs and sit,
fatigue leaving me dazed,
waiting for a match
to rekindle the blaze.

Intro

Sooo the umwc blog is pretty much not being used anymore and Windows Live kinda broke the Skydrive UI so it's harder to share poems. As a result, I'll probably be cross posting new poems here. The authoritative source for my work is still my skydrive, though.

The Pen

The ink fills up
and starts
leaking
so I pull out
a sheet of paper
and give my ink a place to go.

At first
it clumps and stains.
The lines are
   crooked
and the let-
ters straggle.
I can almost read the words.

But I soon get used
to using the pen
and controlling
the flow of my ink.
The lines straighten
and sentences form.
Paragraphs appear
and soon whole stories.

And then one day
the pen runs dry.
The unending flow of ink has
stopped.
The pen is locked away in a drawer
and forgotten.

Until suddenly the ink
starts
dripping
again.

But I don't remember
how to control it.
The ink is leaving marks everywhere
and I search frantically
for my pen.

"Here it is!"
I've found the drawer
so I pull out
another sheet of paper
and give my ink a place to go.

The Waterskin

The water flows
slowly
but consistently
and eventually fills
and overflows
but still the water runs
and the waterskin stretches until it
bursts.

A Highway at Night

I can't tell where I'm heading
The signs are all blurred.
The ones that aren't slurred
Are telling me to go straight,
But is there a detour up ahead
That I'm just not seeing yet?
This fog needs to clear
So I can ease my fears.

Unstable

The lightest tap magnifies to a shove
I'm
    tipping
        over
            now
and now I
        fall.
But there's a hand
stretched out toward me
so I grab it
And I'm up again

But no
more
stable than I
was before