Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on September 10th, 2003, at 3:25am
Title: Coffee and Lies
Author: Erundur Anwamehtar
Date: 09/02/2003
Every day, the women walk by
me without sparks flying, and I’m lying
if I say I’m not disappointed. Fashion
never taught me anything or enough
to start a fire. Fools in Colorado burn
forests on accident, but I can’t begin
a relationship even when beggin’
for a date. I’ll buy
dinner and a rose, even if it burns
my paycheck. Are you lying
in anticipation? I’ll bring enough
jocular banter to fashion
respect for my lack of fashion-
able morality, the modern kind that begins
with coffee and ends in enough
sin to leave my conscience by
the ocean and lying
about how little a third degree burn
hurts. The oven’s touch burnt
my arm. The scar lost fashion
and to the ladies my perjurous lying
about its origins did begin
to languish. How can I buy
so much coffee, but still not enough
caffeine to awaken her? Enough
dates and perhaps I’ll burn
the women’s affinity to “goodbye.”
Do they taste chocolate as they fashion
their excuses and the words begin
to grow like bamboo? Her lying
easily leaves me by the road, lying
in the ditch, beaten with enough
bruises to resemble a man who begins
to lose identity, not just wallet. Burn
this necessity for coffee and fashion!
Hello should come after “goodbye”
when it begins with so much lying.
By the time we’ve drank enough
I’ve burned sensibility out of fashion.
Categories: Poetry
Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on August 28th, 2003, at 3:27am
Alongside
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
08/28/2003
she catches no attention
with her feet
crunching sand
on an August evening
racing along, hair
unfurled and rippling,
wetness below her
toes. she can’t voice
the joy! her shadow falls
behind and disappears
in the east
where childrens’ dreams
begin beneath the now-
revealed moon.
Categories: Poetry
Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on August 11th, 2003, at 5:29am
Thirsting
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
Draft 01 - 08/11/2003
Five a.m. comes later than it did
when it was before I woke.
Sleeplessness befriends unsettled memories,
listens to stories
again
and
again
until another worry usurps control.
I tried counting
feet, found two, and walked
to the sink for a glass.
I want to drown
my thirst.
The cisterns of self-full
hope broke,
I have no water. I�m losing my throat.
Water has no taste in dying dreams.
When the end comes, I cannot scream.
I�ll wake up and breathe
a sigh of anticipated monotony
when today�s worries
become tomorrows sorrow.
Categories: Poetry
Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on July 15th, 2003, at 4:07am
His Sad I’s
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
7/15/2003
Walking out the side door
at one a.m.
tonight he saw darkness,
a black flag with riippppless
tainted by moonlight.
Two years ago he felt this,
before he was
who he is.
Who is he?
A child, a man,
a man-child?
21 years ago he started
learning everything
he knows.
Darkness is absence of light,
it cannot touch
the surface.
Light switches turn on
artificial light, an imitation
of The Light Outside.
He is running
nowhere
under the sun.
He is going nowhere.
Categories: Poetry
Posted by
Erundur Anwamehtar on June 9th, 2003, at 1:01am
Not The Man
A Poem by Erundur Anwamehtar
04/02/2001
Note: I was digging through my poetry today and found this one. It’s short, it rhymes, and I enjoy it.
I am not the man you need,
I am not the man you see.
I am no longer here,
I am burried somewhere near.
Categories: Poetry
