Hasani Meets Miley Cyrus

He runs towards Miley Cyrus,
smiling,
giddy,
jumping up and down.
His braces shines,
reflecting the sun
above.
I stare.
Breath heavy.
Blink-faced.
His hands becomes
sweaty,
he clapps his hands together loudly,
swinging them
up and down.
WACK!
My face becomes hot.
'MILEY! MILEY! I LOVE YOU!'
His high pitch voice screeches through my ears.
My head sways away..
'MILEY! MILEY! AHHHHHH!!! OVER HERE!'
His mouth becomes a blow horn.
He makes an attempt,
stretching his arms out,
wrapping his arms around her like wall paper.
Sticky.
Fllaaattttt..
All over..
Miley Cyrus steps back,
falling backwards.
Men in black rushes over,
high pitch screams vibrates over my body.
He's up in the air now;
'I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!'
His punches,
well,
he tries.
He kicks,
well,
he tries.
BLANK.
Everything went blank..
His eyes creaped open
from the cracks from the walls.
His head feels big,
swollen,
sore.
His body aches from cuts and bruises.
Gentle foot steps echos over.
I looked at him with my sad disapointed eyes.
'What happened?'
he asks.
'You happened.'
I replied.
He straps himself in a ball,
rolling over in his cage.
'The best of both worlds..'
he sanged,
'..you rocked out the show..'

Ode to Dirt

Under the snow of Antartica,
beneath the ocean floor.
You have transformed-
rising up to our presense,
hiding blow ashes.
Your solid brown color
enrishes
small,
yet
big
lives.
You give us a sense
of ground.
A reassurance
that we are
still
here.
You lay there.
Watching us
grow,
watching them grow.
Your sad ancient wrinkles
frown upon us for what we had
done to your dear
friend,
Sky,
Your pores would burst
with the push of Earth,
enslaved forever
reacting to its whips.
As we expire
you shall be there
to
welcome
us.

Haiku/Tanka

Bo

Meet my brother, Bo.

Pale skin, bright strong smile.

Big head, chinky eyes.

Water

Refreshingly cold,

frozen, boiled, heated, steamed,

pire simple, water.

A Thing Called Snow

Frozen soft flurries.

Floating swiftly down slowly.

Changing everyday.

The wind blows upon my face,

sending off bitter sweet winds.

Villanelle

Be gentle with the Father.
Do not weep uopm their sins;
Be patient with that boulder.

For as life becomes molder,
do not hop into strange bins.
Be gentle with the Father.

He falls, stumbling over.
Shifting, crawling, pushing for vim.
Be patient with that boulder.

Tear drops fall colder and colder.
His heart falls point sharp like pins.
Be gentle with the Father.

His head rests on cold ice fur,
realizing he can not win.
Be patient with that boulder.

A tear falls, this time warmer.
He smiles, as foolish as he's been.
Be gentle with the Father.
Be patient with the boulder.