Wide Path Poetry

the fall of night

Melanie Alberts — Sat, 27 Mar 2010 00:08:48 +0000

This street is as straight as a dying man’s scrawl. The bit where the road curves is where the odd, off- white house still sits, home to no one now. Next door and all around are brightly painted bungalows: pink and lilac and turquoise, like pieces of an outfit picked out by my blind grandmother. This oddity reflects each sunrise as it mixes with the cool of afternoon. It longs for the fall of night. At night, no passerby looks askance at its drab siding or missing shingles. At night, ebony warmth folds into the interior, all eight hundred square feet of cobwebs and debris. At night, people once talked in soothing voices, reading aloud to each other from newspapers spread across their laps. Over their shoulders, lamplight the color of old photographs fell. This house is worn around the edges but to someone, still recognizable as home.

Dressed for a funeral
my great-aunt fingers
her wedding ring

where do you go

Melanie Alberts — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 15:31:17 +0000

where do you go
when I sleep? Birdseed
scatters like stars
in the morning, any
wild thing will grow

where do you go

Melanie Alberts — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 11:33:37 +0000

where do you go
when I sleep? Birdseed
scatters like stars
in the morning, any
wild thing will grow

red moon

Melanie Alberts — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 02:27:08 +0000

red moon–
a fever passes
between us

night

Melanie Alberts — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 11:57:45 +0000

night takes back
the moon–
unfinished thoughts
written years ago
are laid to rest

blue jay robbing

Melanie Alberts — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 00:23:22 +0000

blue jay robbing
the feeder–
“what a pretty bird”
my husband who hates
birds says, surprised

scriptfrenzy

Melanie Alberts — Tue, 10 Mar 2009 20:55:16 +0000

Scriptwriting has been keeping my haiku-mind busy this past month. I’ve just signed up for a scriptwriting frenzy and hope that this focus will help me churn out the feature length script I’ve been plotting by the end of April. So, this year, I will not be writing a poem a day next month. I may just put the blog on haitus…not that I’ve been posting much..until my scripts are done. You have to write 100 pages for the frenzy (I also want to write a short film…less than 30 pages…and keep the ideas coming). What I love about scripts is the strong visual image aspect. So much can be said in so few words…like haiku…because the reader imagines the action and their vision expands on my words. It’s shared in a way that isn’t so spoon-fed, like poetry. I like that. So I need scriptwriting software, a friendly group of like-minded, frenzied writers for encouragment and a desire to just write it down as it comes.

walking in on
tea-stained leaves–
unexpected guest

late winter

Melanie Alberts — Mon, 02 Mar 2009 20:52:11 +0000

late winter–
thinking she’s venus
she settles beside you

rolling tortillas

Melanie Alberts — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 01:38:42 +0000

rolling tortillas
his wedding band
in her cleavage

water lilies

Melanie Alberts — Fri, 30 Jan 2009 22:16:46 +0000

water lilies–
my mother’s hand
testing the bath