Can you derive the rate of change in the human heart?
Tracking each tremble as it approaches –
Yet never quite reaches – love.
Even the furthest tangent feels the pain
When the link is torn or cut, and
One heart reaches for the other
Over and over without success until,
Finally, the shared closeness, once so integral,
Fades in time to the growing distance.
The Rate of Change
A Churlish Cacophony
Like a beating drum, it hits and echoes.
Irregular and erratic, filling the space
With a steady heartbeat, started and ignored:
Startling the true heartbeat to a race
As the hollow thunks repeat at each verge of sleep.
What angle of wind directs them so vindictively?
The Ballad of Caffeine
Brain cells start to churn a bit
But ponderously slow
How I ever write first thing AM,
Believe me, I don’t know.
50 Word Play: The Cost of Doing Business
This is an experiment (an experiment within an experiment! Oooh! How meta!). Seriously, though, I’m not sure if there are rules for this. I decided to count only the dialogue and stage directions (not the character names).
CHARON: Condolences, welcome, congratulations, blah, blah, blah. I will be your ferryman for eternity. Place 5 euro in the box and enter.
BUSINESSMAN: Euro? You mean an obol. Here you go.
CHARON: Euro only.
BUSINESSMAN: What?
CHARON: Go to the exchange.
BUSINESSMAN: But the stories say an obol!
CHARON: Since when?
BUSINESSMAN: When? Forever!
CHARON: You’re relying on that?
The Mirror of All I Am Not
Standing before me,
The mirror of all I am not.
As I listen to you
The reflection of my life
Turns tawdry and dim:
Shadows of caricatures
Sketched quickly on
Scrap paper
Or twisted like
A funhouse mirror:
The more of you,
The less of me –
Taunting me with
A me that was
Or once could be.
twytte 