poetry

A Game of Cat's by Nico Lund



Isn't it perfect that 
life is just a stream of X's and O's?
Each one blocking out the other as they go.
..
Doesn't it just makes sense 
that all that we see in front of us are 
cancellations, one after the other?
..
It's a string of blackout-poetry, 
and we didn't know that all the words we obscured 
and covered up contained the original meaning of life.
..
Haven't you wondered if it was true 
that who you are is just replaced 
moment by moment with someone else?
..
And this abstract version of things 
that you're trying to understand is just 
an infuriating game of cat's
that no one seems to be able to win.

Words that Confuse Time and Fall Off Pages by Nico Lund


Where do the words come from?

As they slip 
and lisp from 
deep places 
and twist into sounds.

As they arise from 
inhabited thoughts 
that are illusions and 
illusive interruptions 
of space. 

And they have 
the capacity 
to bite and cut 
and jab into 
soft fleshy realities, 
while multiplying 
and propagating 
into overpopulated emotions 
and anxious breaths. 

What are words
but outbreaks of 
viruses that contaminate, 
confuse and 
consume time 
with their prolific 
verses and stanzas. 

Their offspring 
committing suicides by 
falling off pages 
too small 
to 
contain 
them. 



Every Moment an Instinct 30/30 by Nico Lund



Oh, how we compare ourselves to caterpillars.

But it’s like the moths gravitating towards bright lights 
then dying that we mimic.

How we tell children that dreaming is where happiness is made.

That when dreams come true, 
wings unfold with unimaginable colors and take flight.

Yet, the lives of birds, insects and flowers are not so beautiful as we are told.
Every moment an instinct. 
They are not joyful for their magnificence.

Our happiness on the other hand has the habit 
of transforming like clouds to tears.

It’s not true that rain comes from the sky, 
and rain is not falling to the ground.

Why do we lie to ourselves?

At the top, will the view will be enough?

From the top, there is only room for one, 

looking down,
                                              looking down.


From the top, 
       there is 
                only 
                              looking 
                                         down.

Staying Takes You Somewhere 29/30 by Nico Lund


Which-
ever 
the 
way to 
go?
Up, 
down, 
same thing. 
Depending on
what you're looking for. 
When to move? 
But even staying 
takes 
you 
some-
where. 
The only 
constant is 
constantly 
going. 
Suffering 
is trying to make it stop. 
Stopping is like perfection; it doesn't exist.

For Something Pure to Bring Home 27/30 by Nico Lund




From far away, 

Squinting sharpens your features,

Brings definition to your edges, 
But you are still too far to touch,
Comprehend,
Have. 


I listened to the music that 

Tickled your ears 
And softened your heart. 


But all I heard 
Was the droning of a tired bee 
Out looking for something 
Pure to bring home. 


And all that squinting for the future 
Brought tears to my eyes. 

For All Creatures of Good Heart 25/30 for Chai & Bamboo by Nico Lund


Todays Poetry prompt from NaPoWriMo is a clerihew poem. Although, they are usually only 4 lines, I needed an extra quatrain for the benefit of all sentient beings.

For goodness sakes Madame Woodland Park Zoo,
You've made a gargantuan travesty of the lives of chai and bamboo,
These sentient beings and the other zoo lot,
Aren't just novelties like dodo birds or triceratops. 

It's time to do right Monsiers and Madams,
Letting go of your money, your accreditation and stand.
Send Chai and Bamboo to retire in peace,
And for all creatures of good heart to be released. 


I Am Enough 23/30 by Nico Lund


It's a simple tweak
Gentle touch and
Barely noticeable smile. 

The one just underneath the skin
Like maybe because it's always there,
Always tilted up without effort 
In a thought of kindness 
Or swoosh of sweetness. 

An Illusive opposite of shadow
A sensual passing through. 

What is that rising flutter in my heart?

A infinitesimal shift
With a colossal effect. 
A momentous rejoicing
With the smallest of sighs. 

Enough, enough, enough!

I am enough.

What If? 22/30 by Nico Lund



What if the rain never came?
Drip 
                  drop 
                               dry. 
There'd be nothing to wash 
The tangles from your hair,
Or the soot from your pores. 

What if the sky never filled with clouds?
Drip 
                  drop. 
Each lost droplet a lost idea 
For the clouds are the accumulation 
Of all the ideas and dreams 
Of the people down below. 

What if the thoughts stopped coming?
Drip. 
                                    Drip. 
                                                                     Drip. 
                                                                                                   Drip. 

What if?

When I Heard Your Heartbeat, I Cried 20/30 by Nico Lund


#NaPoWriMo Challenge: Write a poem that states the things you know. 

The ground beneath my feet is really layers 
and layers of time.
Stepping softly won’t slow my growing old.
Walking in circles only makes me dizzy.

I know I need to embrace this journey. 
The sun doesn’t choose whose eyes to shine in -
I am here as witness to each glimmer. 

Your spring hydrates my crisp summer leaves.
When I heard your heartbeat I cried,  knowing 
The flood was on the way - and I knew how to swim.

I had thought I knew what love was,
I had thought I knew,
But love is like time,
beneath my feet,
with each step,
I grow wiser.

With This Sunny Day 18/30 by Nico Lund





With this sunny day,
Collapse onto the first 
Grassy spot you find. 
Sit just for the sake of sitting. 

Take off your shoes, 
And your socks. 
Look closely to find little insects 
Wiggling around under blades. 

Aren't you also wiggling 
Up and over similar blades and bumps 
Looking for something?

Try your hardest not to squint 
When the sun touches your face. 
Don't be chilled by that cooling breeze, 
Instead notice every follicle that is feeling something. 
Let that fly linger 
Just a moment more on your arm 
And see the hundreds of reflections on its wings. 


Aren't you also always landing in places 
That try to swat you away 
As you try to be just who you are?

Modified Haiku in The Key of Sea - in three parts 17/30 by Nico Lund


#NaPoWriMo haiku challenge-4:9:4

Modified Haiku in The Key of Sea
In three parts

I
Another wave 
Won't stop for the shore because it can't. 
Energy's curse. 

II
Compulsive bursts 
Spit up the underbellies of thoughts
Then back to sea. 

III
Then back to shore 
Then back to sea, a marriage of fates
Without a truce. 

All The Things Your Heart Is 16/30 by Nico Lund




Take all the things your heart is
      And all the things your heart isn't, 

Can them 
      Into a jar 
                                  And watch the flickering lights 
                                                                   Blink on and
                                                                                      off like summer 
                                                                                    Fire bugs on a 
                                                                             Dim lit hazy night.

Above stars will play
                                Hide and seek
                                                  With night clouds 
                                                                             And moon-shadows.

When you go to slumber
Your mind will buzz 
With a million thoughts 
Until 
        Sleep 
                 sets 
                         you 

                                 free.

All at Once Yet Never Together 15/30 by Nico Lund


Heart and mind. 
                                   A metaphor murmuring 
                                                          And melting evermore
                             Into puddles of 
       Desire and despair. 

    Always all at once yet never together. 

                            Which one could stand alone?

As the sea and the shore join endlessly 
                                                         Rock by pebble by 
                              Sand to silt. 

         I am left to reflect how the 
                                           Waning tide suffers 
                                                                          no remorse 
                                                       As it leaves me. 

                                                                    Returning later, 
                                           It will not grieve that
I have gone. 

Tomorrow is Tax Day 14/30 by Nico Lund


Each moment is significant. 

For example, this line at the post office. 
Tomorrow is tax day. 

That mom with the two young children. 
What she says to them: wait here. 
How they look at her. 
And they are watching, learning, learning about waiting. 

Children are always learning about waiting. 

The older woman behind me. 
How she chews her fingers and looks around. 
Once she was young and then after that she was somewhere in between 
like me. 

Each line has a memory of another line. 
Whether or not the end of any line gets you what you wanted, 
the wait is often noted, recorded, reviewed. 

Each anticipation of any wait-er has been solidified in the mind; 
calcified blocks of 
personal stories and vignettes. 

How our waiting settles into these clerks, 
perhaps to ground their slowness to slow 
and then seemingly slower.

Did someone press pause on this moment? 
Is it for me to finally notice?
Should I take this time for something significant? 

Conversely, sometimes it seems we believe 
that frantically looking around at anyone 
who will meet our eye will speed up the process. 

We are all waiting for our turn. 
Life is not waiting for us, but oh how we wait for it. 
For it to happen. 
For it to unfold and reveal its mysteries. 

Right now is always fighting our anxiety with 
elongated space between here and there. 

Every line in our life is like time passing. 

How we wait is telling. 
How we wait 
is who we are

In each 
significant moment. 

Somewhere Between Neither 13/30 by Nico Lund


Yesterday I said I will

Catch up to a breath,
Catch up to the moment.
 
But Today I'll be somewhere between neither.

Try to hold what it was,
It disappears. 

Try to hold it tight,
It begs to be let go. 

There is no future for wanting. 

There is no breath waiting to be had.