(2015)
This is a univocal lipogram poem, where only one vowel is used throughout the poem
#Lipogram #Wind
I have a hole in my heart. Once a trusty pouch is now a conspiring pump that floods my insides with the dark red fury
Don’t you know that I tried my best to capture exuberance of life in my breast. Hope defined,
In my mind, a grandmotherly smile. There was before only suffering.… of the quivering mess. No longer willing to run away from the self,
A sight of sympathy for the man, who never thought himself too gran… or even fair to look at for long, The ballad entails his fateful son… Afraid of estranged looks and whis…
The lapel of my jacket held its wa… as I walked down the daring, dark… I couldn’t spell my own defeat as the passions of my vengeance un… Like a knight fighting for vain gl…
A bouquet of peonies sits on the k… Pictures dot the wall, the table s… with the memory of that once perfe… The clock ticks rhythmically, somb… There I am, seated at the head of…
The language I live in is a playground of excessive expression. Fitted to the guiles of love and the rascal finishes
I do not waste my time with things that do not want to be… Like angry schoolchildren wanting to... demanding to live in ignorance,
If I ever write a poem and give it the title “A Dream”... Do not read that poem. Hesitate before every word,
On the shoulders of giants, I stood defiant. Everything about me is original Except I did not create: the language I speak
I view death as my friend. Sitting on my bed, playing a guitar for a weeping woman who has just lost a child. I view life as a mustard seed.
I wish my memories were translated… Reflections of my life, entranced in melody, I wonder how they would sound. The music of my memories...
The feeling came again. Love or Lust? Neither I hope, I hate writing of love. It invokes a powerlessness
I shall make for me some natural herb tea, my unquestioning remedy, for what, to me, remains elusive..… a good night’s sleep.
There is no other, no mother, no father, Only you and me Between the shade, of the house we made,