Monthly Archives: April 2017

Inconceivable – Poetry

2010 Thailand – H. Bullough

Inconceivable

I woke before you
But I waited,
You needed more sleep.

The alarm rolled you out of bed,
Into the shower.
You kissed me good morning –
Your hair still wet –
Slipped out of the room with a click.

The shower beckoned me –
I heard the call
But I waited,
Knowing you would return for
One more kiss to say goodbye
Before leaving….

Apparently sometimes a kiss
Does not mean what I think it means.

H. Bullough 4-28-2017

Inspired by a quote from The Princess Bride, which I have on a t-shirt.

Sunset Synthesis

Sunset Synthesis

That evening the lake
Hosted a convention of stars.
They floated in an array of sequined glory.
You threaded your fingers through mine –
Pulled me from my chair –
“Let’s go see the show.”

We sat on the pier – our legs dangled.
I shivered and you tucked me under your arm.
We watched the sun ripen
In a lemony slide toward the horizon –
I could smell it over the water.

You reached –
Plucked the skyfruit –
Squeezed it into a cerulean cup –
A juicy swirl of red, orange, yellow.
You drank and it made you glow.
“Leave me some.”

I reached –
The cup vanished.
Lingering drops of nectar
Glistened on your lips.
I kissed them off –
Sweet and hot fusion
Escalated through a florescent sky.
We rode the current – a twining helix of two.

When I opened my eyes
I saw that we were starlight.

H. Bullough 4-27-2017
Inspired by a poetry prompt at www.poetryprompts.tumblr.com.
Challenge: Write a poem with the phrase “and we were starlight.”

My UPS Driver Works for the CIA

IMG_4669 smaller

Not related to the poem below at all, but I liked the picture.

My UPS Driver Works for the CIA – Rictameter Verse

Stealthy.

He grabs the box –

Carries it to the door –

Stashes it where no one will see –

Runs to the waiting van and speeds away.

The dog stayed silent – No one saw.

She came – the dog bellowed.

Heeled shoes are not

Stealthy.

H. Bullough 4-21-2017

Please Understand, I’m Writing – Rictameter Verse

Rictameter Verse: Nine lines in the poem, and a strict syllable count — 
2 syllables in the first line, then 4 syllables in the next, then 6, then 8, then 10,
then 8, then 6, then 4, then 2 in the last, with the first line repeating itself in the last line.

Please Understand, I’m Writing

Sorry.
I want to say –
I can’t answer my phone
While I’m at work. It’s destructive.
Disorienting. I get yanked away –
Time and space shatter and I’m lost –
Will I find my way back?
Tell the prince, I’m
Sorry.

H. Bullough 4-21-2017