From the verses of Shakespeare to the violence of Football, a soft hand on the nape of my neck to a rim's hard rattle after a dunk, the mute of Miles to the rhymes of Rakim, Hershey's chocolate to a garlic peppered, cedar-planked salmon, Joel Dias-Porter's thoughts scatter like grains of black sand across a wind-blown beach.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Seven Bean Salad
Following, find a Crown of seven word poems. This form has the brevity and economy of haiku, but allows a little more freedom. A few of these probably also qualify as Haiku or Senryu, but who's counting?
SEVEN BEAN SALAD
Her arms
pinned tight- my
tongue attacks.
How hot
her hands have
suddenly become.
So soft
in my mouth-
Her gasp.
Half moon-
Marked in my
shoulder blade.
Curling hard
for a moment-
Her toes.
Her snores
fall softly, turning-
Autumn leaves.
A scent
still sleeps here-
Coconut oil.
And until next we meet, may all your potatoes be sweet (and dusted with cinnamon.)
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2 comments:
I like this poem! Sensual but also sweet.
Thank you Rochelle.
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