Poetic Pestering

Cosplay

Twirls of red,
blue-orange fabric
Twists of silk
catch eyes like magnet
Strange painted faces
Dark wigs surround
glowing eyes,
and peculiar sound
of click clack
stomp stomp
Different shoes, people romp
pretending to be
who they really aren't
Clever disguises
of simple people
wearing lives
of magicians or heros
Masked faces
of honor or humor
fitting cartoons
Yet some arrived sooner
and for years to come..
Cosplayer's fun
--

Predictions

Judging by the height of this,
I estimate something's amiss
Hot weather and now near snow,
you know that's not how things should go!
Judging by their faceless expression
I predict extreme depression
looming overhead like darkened cloud
Not a word is said aloud
Judging by this dropping feather
I predict some stormy weather
as birds flee from increasing dark
crawling over the hills, past the park
I listen, put ear to the ground
and silence, still, without a sound
The calm before the storm
--

Ink-Stained Clouds

Dark clouds float by,
stained pillows of ink
Powdery edges,
and I could sink
down lower in my chair,
envisioning myself there
In the sanctuary of cloud
---

Classical Music

This music slowly kills my ears
Sharp notes stab, bringing tears
of joyless sorrow
I can't follow
how anyone could enjoy this...
---

Stressful Day

Today is a stressful day
start of work and no more play
We file in, shuffling feet
We lumber past, half asleep
Today is a stressful day
Teachers drone, and stuck we stay
sitting in hard wooden chairs,
stepping up and down the endless stairs
Staring at the clock...
My eyes blur, I swore it stopped
Weary now, I clear my throat
Pick up heavy backpack, don my coat
Think of all the textbooks there,
and once again, I must repair
damaged memory
Forgetting Japanese, you see
Today is a stressful day...
--

Beginnings

With every beginning's end
comes another
From around the corner,
beneath the gutter
Don't hang your head,
don't put on a frown
Know what's over
could be found
again someday
Another day, another way
---

Ends

The final notes,
the closing piece
I make a curtsy
and end my speech
These things to cease
to be, to linger
Like a solo singer
as her voice cuts off
to a close
Everything has one of these
the finale, the final act
and I think it's about time you packed
the end is growing near