Category Archives: Writing

A Collaboration Poem

K:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping the algorithms which might know

there is a growing wind working and

watching the dissection of our souls.

A streetlight flickers on, the light is escaping.

L:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping the algorithms which might know

the growing wind is working,

watching the division of our souls.

A lamp flickers on. Light escapes.

We long to be mathematicians,

But our potential shut down when

the bulb burnt out, filling the air

with the smell of extinguished candles.

A computer flickers on. Ideas escape.

K:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

Mapping the algorithms which know

The growing wind is working,

Watching the decay of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

Longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated when

the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, as our ideas

Struggle with basic equations.

Eating the spoonfuls of grey matter

Offered to children in school yards,

We’ve stopped earning our daily bread.

A stove flickers on, as hungry

L:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping the algorithms which know

the growing wind is working,

watching the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated when

the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

Eating spoonfuls of grey matter

offered to chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

The stove flickers on, hungry

elements watch us on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because we weigh

the same. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

K:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping the algorithms which know

the growing wind is swelling,

watching the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated when

the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

While we eat spoonfuls of grey matter

offered by chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

The stove flickers on, hungry

elements wait on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because our weight

cancels them out. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

The lamp flickers out, as daylight’s

homecoming carries in the

reeking of rotten leaves.

The growing wind is swelling,

watching the division of our souls.

L:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping algorithms that decide

the growing wind is swelling,

watching the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated

when the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

We eat spoonfuls of grey matter

offered by chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

the stove flickers on, hungry

elements on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because our weight

cancels them out. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

The growing wind is swelling,

watching the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers off, as daylight’s

arrival carries in the sulphur-reek

of rotten leaves.

K:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping algorithms that predict

the growing wind will swell and

watch the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated

when the first bulb burnt out, staining the air

with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

We eat spoonfuls of grey matter

offered by chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

the stove flickers on, hungry

elements on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because our weight

cancels them out. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

Witness the division of our souls as

The lamp flickers off.  Daylight’s

arrival carries in the putrid reek

of rotten leaves

on the growing wind.

(Here we started to just tweak the

last stanza)

L:

The lamp flickers off. Daylight’s

arrival carries with it a growing wind

of rotten leaves. A sulphur-reek of

new ideas. The division

of our souls.

K:

The lamp flickers out as daylight’s

arrival carries in the sulfurous reek

of rotten leaves

on a growing wind. The division

of our souls.

L:

Dead leaves swirl around our feet,

mapping algorithms that predict

the growing wind will swell

into the division of our souls.

The lamp flickers on, as daylight

longs to be a mathematician,

but any potential dissipated

when the first bulb burnt out, staining

the air with the smell of extinguished matches.

A computer flickers on, our ideas

struggle with basic equations.

We eat spoonfuls of grey matter

offered by chemists in the playground.

We burn our daily bread when

the stove flickers on, hungry

elements on the teeter-totter,

in perfect balance because our weight

cancels them out. Our theory disproved,

we head home with heavy

heads, dragging across the pavement.

The lamp flickers off. Daylight’s

arrival carries in the sulfur-reek

of rotten leaves

on a growing wind. The division

of our souls.

Poem: Grandmother’s Watch

Grandmother’s Watch

Kristen Hiemstra

 

I can see that you wear that old watch too slack.
It’s too big by far and hangs out from under the black
sleeve of your blouse.

Your daughters bought it years ago and gave it as a gift.
The time since then passed full of love, but too swift.
They were such little children then.

It never kept very good time, and now it works not at all.
You will not wear another despite this integral flaw.
It is a comfort now.

A lifetime ago you were his exuberant, glowing bride.
Now you are silent leaving the church to go outside.

Giant Salmonflies Give Me the Heebie Jeebies

Today on my trip home from an outing I was sitting at a bus stop downtown and happened to glance to my left just soon enough to notice a brownish thing flying directly toward me.  Startled I didn’t have time to react before I heard a fluttering sound like wings and felt something hit the side of my head.  I immediately shook my head and brushed my hair with my hand to dislodge whatever had just  impacted, but found nothing.  A woman sitting next to me said “Did something just hit you?”  I replied “Yeah, but I don’t know what it was.”  I turned my head and asked her if there was anything on me, but she couldn’t see anything.  “That’s weird”  I muttered.  The bus arrived a few moments later, I checked the ground around where I had been sitting, but saw nothing.  I thought to myself that it must have bounced off me and flown away; Or at least I sure hoped so.

I boarded the bus when it pulled up and took a seat.  Just as the bus began to move I again heard a fluttering noise and suddenly a large winged insect flew from my back onto the man in the seat in front of me.  Now, my gut instinct when dealing with insects is to move away from them as fast as possible, especially when they are a couple centimeters long!
I jumped out of my seat, hoping that I didn’t look crazy, and moved quickly to the rear door area.  Staring at the thing crawling on the man I started to feel guilty for not alerting him and I leaned over to warn him.  The insect then decided that it wanted to hang out on me some more and sprung suddenly in my direction.

In what I can only assume was a hilarious overreaction I flailed at the thing and swatted it rather hard into the seat facing the door not inched from a young man sitting there.  He remained completely casual and grinning slightly watched the insect crawl off the edge of the seat and onto the ground.  I grimaced and feeling the need to explain to him my reaction said “that was gross!”

I kept an eye on it for the rest of the bus ride.  It seemed to have given up on flying and crept away under the seats.  I moved away from it and sat down.  Only then did I realize that my hands were shaking and my head felt light.  Some might call it adrenaline, I think in this case it’s better dubbed the heebie jeebies.

I found a photo on the internet of the crazy big insect that tried to make friends with me only to be brutally attacked because I’m scared of bugs.  It’s called a Giant (no shit) Salmonfly.

YUCK!

A Self-Indulgent First Post

This is a poem I found on my computer’s hard drive.  I don’t remember what it means.  Let me know if you figure it out!

enjoy.

A man overcome by fragmented hope.

His space occupied by things unseen.

Laden heavy with impotent power

unable, charged and kinetic.

Proceeding, backwards and stagnant.

Forfeit offering shadowed in traffic.

Perspiring consequences ricochet

off the grave-less dead.

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