Coffeehouse poems

Midtown - "On Falling"

I
There's nothing in the slack to endure, or hush, or control, stifle, restrain.
Just the energy of a wave breaking - it has already risen
Its own weight troughs it
The threshead flops
To a puddle
Flattens.

II
You can't spell flatten without latte
The foam is rich, ain't it?
And sweet
And short
And when its gone,
There's no hiding the bitterness
The bitterness that provides the energy
Your empty icing never could.

III
From heaven they fall, in December. The end,
And then January.
Thunder and Lightning
Strike the ground from Heaven
Recall the flightless angels
Reminds us that Hell is cold
And God speaks in sparks of heat
In the flashes of his Wrath.

Tupelo - "Inside a Puddle - an experiment in Haiku Catalexis"

Ripples roll and slide
Stillness encircles, collides
At tangents, our minds.

Action is willed forth
Moments bellow beyond us
Our lungs pull breath

Gravity surrounds.
Environment beyond us
Encircles, collides.

Action pulls breath.
Stillness rolls and slides, our minds
At tangents, ripple.