Featured Posts

I'm busy working on my blog posts. Watch this space!

Please reload

Recent Posts

July 1, 2019

July 1, 2019

July 1, 2019

June 15, 2019

April 7, 2019

March 13, 2019

February 9, 2019

Please reload

Search By Tags
Follow Us
  • Facebook Classic
  • Twitter Classic
  • Google Classic

Iowa (a hawk returns)

February 14, 2016


                                                The road to Iowa is paved with expectations,

                                                two hundred miles long - among them littered

                                                the adhesive strips of memories, along where

                                                one slips the tongue upon the slit, fusing

                                                bitter winter and paper-thin wafer without

                                                             a cut…


                                                But the distance you give makes the villagers

                                                double-take.  They always thought you alive,

                                                seated in the same spot, sputtering sage leaves

                                                while you remained rooted in a computer, one

                                                hard drive like a tombstone etching birth, death,

                                                            one more…


                                               One more, the sages echo; one more sentence of

                                               the man you once were.  And now you are the

                                               phantom, spinning on some hipster Coruscant,

                                               assumed forgotten, now a spit-take on the floor

                                               made flesh in the whip-flash, flaunting as you say,

                                                           “I’m here…!”


                                               You’re here, and feeling not here, not there, not

                                               a tree weathering anywhere, wint’ring in reverse,

                                               to over-winded welcomes and melting into warm

                                               minestrones of dreams, screaming into ice cream

                                               bowls, wishing your return a sunshine, becoming of

                                                           a hawk…


                                               But you caw away, guffaw in a lobby where you

                                               once roosted, singing half-hymns of springtime,

                                               proud of the townsfolk, stranger to yourself.

                                              ‘Til then, you nestle in a slowly dying hearth,

                                              chirping one-days to stay forever-long, one-day…

                                                         one day.

Please reload

Ryan Oliveira

Ideas.  I'm full of them.

This site was designed with the
website builder. Create your website today.
Start Now