The Musing BirdMy muse returned from the southThe Musing Bird2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Flown gently on feathered dreams
Waking me up with a shadow-whisper
That grew taller and taller
Tracing thought-seeds in my mind
And firework-ing them into hand-held symphonies
"Get up, get up! There are worlds to discover and create and there is no time to waste!"
and nothing will be perfect--don't pick that up, she snaps,and nothing will be perfect--2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we're going to be late.
a yank of the wrist:
untied shoelaces, sticky hands, chubby cheeks
stumble, struggle to catch up
come on come on come on hurry
it was pretty. he whispers.
a single sunflower:
wilted petals, scratchy leaves, dying face
turned toward the sun
searching searching searching for light
don't you know?
is no home for a flower
is not a race.
don't you know?
the most beautiful things in this world are the broken.
i may be a mess--i peeled off every price tag clinging desperately to the backs of my tattered bedside-guilty-pleasures tonight. i pulled every shirt i own off the color-coordinated plastic hangers in my closet and threw them in heaps on the coffee-stained living room rug, right in the middle. i piled dirty dishes in the sink and ate ice cream on the couch and let my spoon drip, drip, drip all over the polished wood floors, and i laughed.i may be a mess--2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
i was always tidy with you. i cared so much about presenting my world in a way you could understand that i forgot to clean up the mess in me. maybe i was afraid that you couldn't handle my inner stains, spills, rips, tears,