365 Sonnets is completed! While there be no more new posts, feel free to read the sonnets and comment! :)

You can read my new poetry at Some Turbid Night: :)

Wednesday, October 01, 2008


Intense and bitter were the icy winds he crossed,
his jacket clutched within his anxious, nervous fist.
He walked into the store and glanced upon his list,
evasive of the camera. His hair was tossed,
his face unshaven – eyes like frigid fire, lost.
He snatched a basket; glued it to his quaking wrist.
He clambered through the store, remembered what he missed,
turned back and veered again, to pay for what he bought.

As feared, that same cashier was there, her smile, fake.
She smacked her gum, forgetting him, their love – their hate.

An anger flared like sun. He seized his blanched receipt.
Her eyes acknowledged his. He grabbed his groceries.
He stormed away. He stared upon the ashen sheet.
Her name, impudent, sauntered in his thoughts and teased.


A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!