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Silas Thorne's Journal

  1. Dead Cat Monday

    by , 03-08-2009 at 09:41 PM (Silas Thorne's Journal)
    No longer a fuzzy toy to play with,
    black and white morning roadkill,
    pretty like sleep with the dew on.
    No longer a song in the moonlight
    singing the other cats Scarface.

    Dead cats sing simple songs
    and this one,
    from appearances mostly intact,
    wanted its invisible owner to see it whole,
    and not pushed up bits at the edges
    after the wheels of a truck.

    No stick big enough.
    With cuddly tummy and heavy ...
    Categories
    Poetry
  2. Dear my hot Japanese ex-classmate

    by , 03-04-2009 at 07:49 PM (Silas Thorne's Journal)
    Dear my hot Japanese ex-classmate,

    I lost your number.
    I'd be a sheep with bleeters on
    because you blur my edges,
    and so I had to pull out all the live feeds
    and trim the switches.

    I never called.
    I won't be a howling wolf then, prowling dark places,
    since within the flitter-flash, your gaze,
    my mind would lose its hinges.



    I never called your number, lost it.
    There were many too ...

    Updated 03-04-2009 at 07:55 PM by Silas Thorne

    Categories
    Poetry
  3. Lines upon a poem sent to a girl

    by , 03-03-2009 at 11:05 PM (Silas Thorne's Journal)
    Poetry, what did you do to that woman?
    She slapped me hard and left the room
    while in your head she misted over, swooning.

    I'll kick you in the nuts, you knave!
    While youíre sitting in an open horse stance, posing,
    Iíll get you right, when youíre not watching,
    you'll lie there groaning.

    Though on the page you lie there, crooning,
    You try that one again...Iíll burn you up.
    Categories
    Poetry
  4. A Christmas letter to Vader

    by , 03-03-2009 at 10:50 PM (Silas Thorne's Journal)
    Dear Lord Vader,

    I want some of your force,
    the stuff you gave Sylar.
    Don't try to pull out,
    getting all pretty with Ben and the Ewoks,
    floating your smile over the closing credits,
    I want to learn to fire people through air
    with a flick of my fingers,
    before my friends do.
    Categories
    Poetry
  5. Ode to Cleavage

    by , 03-02-2009 at 08:09 PM (Silas Thorne's Journal)
    O Cleavage, joy is it to see,
    belittling those whose gaze can drop on Thee,
    and sometimes, when your owner makes requests,
    you have been known to push up over desks,
    but Cleavage, take care lest it be forgot,
    there is a boundary, which if you pass, are not.
    Categories
    Poetry
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