NostalgiaThe first time my fingersNostalgia4 months ago in Free Verse
Sailed across your shorelines
was magical. It felt like I was running
through the past and pulling memories
from way back. But even nostalgia
eventually becomes useless and mundane.
A chore to hide the bitterness
With sour kisses and cheap perfume.
We lived our lives in New York minutes;
Being wasted was never time wasted,
We survived for a while
on fake laughs and ganja cookies.
But like everything; like with everyone else,
Within an instant,
I made you breakfast,
and was gone.
NostalgiaNostalgia3 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry
The house was ripe with once secret romances
that seemed to sink between the couch's cushions
and cling to rain-washed window panes.
Activity of flickering insects tapped against the sill,
saturating the walls with ghostly shadows
while breathless streams of sunlight swam around them.
The room held a kind of lukewarm emotion.
One that still pervaded the air with faint,
lavender quills and settled on the shoulders of its occupant.
In a vibrant lull, it dusted my conscience
with petty apparitions of once absolute memories.
All of which now sits in a pile on the floor,
Horizontal landmarks of growing children still remain
carved across the peeling door frames;
resurfacing old fantasies
unraveling new ones
The spider silk curtains still swung, drunken in the wind like so many years ago.
Softly I stepped around countless cracks of floorboards.
They always seemed to stretch
farther each year.
Almost limitless now.
NostalgiaRocketing in wavelengths emaciated and impeccable.Nostalgia4 years ago in Free Verse
Irregular pressure palpitating
Looking through kaleidoscope distortion
Prisms shouting shards of fragmented color