King of the Snipers

Sometimes,
I find my poetry is weakening,
like those non-brand name paper towels,
when I watch commercials.

And other times,
I wish I wrote more prose.
But I know, for a fact I promise you,
that if I ever did, I would conceal it,
like those moths from the industrial
revolution.

I've been waiting a while,
thinking about the poetry
I have written,
and my style, or whether
or not I even have a style.

Sometimes, I think I have flair.
Most times, I think I have fallen.


~Hammeh

Impressionism

Between Art and Modesty,
lies a curved line of Temptation.

dark, starkness absorption of color
against depraved white

no chance for blending,
only paint on top of paint on top of paint

pieces on canvas,
so thick, it takes years to dry

a pin prick yields a world of color
and the greens and yellows,
reds and oranges, oriental blues of the
nineteenth century,
come springing forth

Born into Today.


~Hammeh

Illusions of Grandeur

When she talks about love,
like everyone has experienced it,
the fog lines my eyes,
and my lips slip shut.
I have no expertise
in this field,
and every opinion,
every fact,
every point
she makes,
I feel compelled to agree with.

One day, in November, I think,
fall would be a beautiful time to love,
I hope to learn and
return with my own opinions,
facts,
points
to make,
and teach her from my expertise.


~Hammeh

Swiss, Provolone, And Blue

This knife
                   is for cheese
  and pears,
        apples, and loose threads.

But when the night is dark,
         and white rain head-bangs on the sun light,
    my skin looks softer

than brie.


~Hammeh

A Sonnet Is Foolish

Watch as my teeth curl
and split against my lips,
the cracks of my tongue
and the yellow of my eyes.

These things are raw
and pretty and broken
for all to see.


~Hammeh

You Are Forbidden

I have seen the poem
that you hide in the corner
of your lips.

And the choice that you make
every night before dawn,
of whether or not
you will live and breathe and seize and die.


~Hammeh

The Truth Amidst The Pain

Is this blood red
or blue
or tea-stained?

Would it sting?  To feel
the warm tea, creamed and honeyed,
upon my wrists?

I long to know,
but never dare to find out.

Coward that I am,
I love my life.


~Hammeh

Green Cup And Pale Tea

A cup on the rug,
the moon in the sky,
our legs entwined,
and this, a single thought.

Not enough for poetry.


~Hammeh

Of Percy Shelley

Faith lost,
and I remember Ozymandias,
and his half sunk, shattered visage.

We all decline and slip away,
memories forgotten. 


~Hammeh

Starlight Starbright

Slender and slippery,
a reed in the water.

Tend to her softly,
and she will grow.

~Hammeh

Was It My Choice

I breathe and sigh and
say goodbye to your heart.
I didn't deserve it.


~Hammeh

Lost Forever

Don't remind me of the rain
outside your window.

It tumbles like rocks,
hard and small and sharp
against my skin.

And it tears through flesh and heart and balance,
until all that is left is bone and blood,
and no more poetry.


~Hammeh

It Just Happens That Way

Begin again,
and start with that phrase,
that they use every time,
and the structure that makes it seem
like this is prose when it's really a
poem.  I think she called it
enjambment, but that was
years ago, and a night
mare of jobs that never
fit just right
and you learned how
these lines work.
But sometimes,
at night,
you feel like
each line should end
with
a comma.


~Hammeh

Not So Sweet

The cranberry bog floats,
in the sky,
and in her mind.

One day, they'll find the body.


~Hammeh

A Mountain Unclimbable

In the blue, silk purse,
she holds her eggs.

Each a different color - red, like aunt may's hair,
blue, like caroline's eyes, green, like dan's nails.

A speckled pattern and freckles,
and freedom with a brush.


~Hammeh

Blessed And British

Muse Juice No More

Words,

dry

and cracked

like lines in pavement

and lips in winter.

Eyes, fall-leaf red
and October cold.

Fingers broken

and sentences



snapped.                           This poem
a mystery.
                        A sapling,

devoid of sun.




~Hammeh

Metal And The Gleam Of Truth

Cliché Depression

A touch on the wrist,
and a slip of my eyes.

I'd never believe that this
is me.

In a book of art,
I used in sixth grade,

there is an image
of a depressed me.

I think that is when my life changed.
And I broke away from forms.

Tonight, with rain and glare
of lightening,
I feel a heartbeat
in my wrist.

When I ask for your help,
please,
don't
dismiss me.


~Hammeh

Oblivious As Always

In the beginning there was fire,
and in the end, he was right.

The fire burned through us.

In the dead of winter,
when the log pile dwindles,
and the trees are heavy and quiet,
the fire is ash, and the ice sets in.

What good is desire when there is no fire?


~Hammeh

Snicker Snicker

Once
in
April
there was snow
but the heat of
your ring on my heart
embodied our heated souls.


~Hammeh

A Navigator's Role

A Clean, Well-Lighted Place

If the walls were white,
like chalk and cheeks,
if the pen was vibrant
red and soft green,
if the locks were
drawn over silent doors,

I would take up the pen
and draw, for you.

~Hammeh

You'll Never Feel This Way

Another Chance

Wouldn't you love to see an obsessive form?
But the truth is, you can mimic however you please,
think it fabulous and
think it captured.

Until you see me struggle with the pressure of a pen tip,
the number of my steps,
the connection of my words,
and the tic of my lips and eyes,

and you cannot ever imagine.


~Hammeh

Telephone Repairman

Cross me,
Bless me,
Don't forget me.


~Hammeh

Stationary Filled With Chimpanzees

Youth

In this beginning there is an end,
of flat beige walls and poetry that sits
like apples on a cart.

Of hard Ks and soft Ls,
of the cuneiform symbol for love
and land.

In Argentina there is a pool,
it's water is bitter and dry.

And before long you've ingested
enough,
enough to begin to survive.


~Hammeh

Because It's So Sharp

Stairway

The
cross
on your
throat tells me
how far I've fallen,
and the faith you have lost in me.


~Hammeh

P.S. - Form is Fib, named after the Fibonacci Sequence.  :]

Fall Of Last Year

Once Was

I hold my court in the shade,
with friends and foes these walls were made.
There was a clearing in the trees,
green and dark with gentle breeze.
And here we stood unafraid.

In patterns of darkness we played,
and crossed our hearts in the glade.
Ferns and pine and simple ease,
I hold my court.

Fallen trees, branches decayed.
Comrades, forsaken and swayed.
How silly, my decrees.
And here now, hear me –– please!
The utter foolishness I displayed.
I hold my court.

~Hammeh

P.S. - Form is Rondeau~

Lemon Poppy Seed

Wind

Wind
hypnotic melody
razing these homes
a nostalgic salty breeze
unpredictable.

~Hammeh

But I Prefer Earl Gray

On The Tide

In the glimmer of a sail
high upon the ocean breeze,
sits a pair of English folk,
voices singing of the seas.

~Hammeh

Eyes Like The Sea After A Storm

Storm

In a hollowed out tree
At the end of the wood,
There is a man who sits
And he waits for the rain.

In the back of his mind,
He hears the planets sing.

~Hammeh

Many A New Day Will Dawn

Belated

In the worn back pocket of her frayed
denim skirt,
there's a folded piece of paper,
with edges so smooth they
could be cotton.

It's a name, a number, a promise.
All broken in one drunken drive.

~Hammeh

The Passion Of An Eagle

Lollipop

These sticky lips that caress me
have no name –
The violent tongue rolling
around my surface –
A crack of teeth – too sharp!
And the contracting swallow.

How could I have known,
when it was so quiet
in my wrapper.

~Hammeh

In The Span Of A Second

When the sea fans his cool breath
across the mudflats and the waves spray
rough as whiskers on his chin, and
the seaweed clasps with clingy hands,
a vibration zaps through me like fire from
flint and a spark ignites in my eyes.

~Hammeh