WinterWinter5 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
When days are old
and turning cold,
and dusk fades to dark.
Then silently my soul embarks
to where twilight mourns
the Sun no more.
In starry skies
my heart now flies,
set finally free from Day's embrace.
With moonlight shining on my face,
icy winds blow violently
and Night rejoices silently.
My presence remarked by smoking breath,
in darkness where there hides no death.
And rest now fills my yearning soul,
the Night completes me, makes me whole.
In winter lies the coldest peace,
from deep within me: Life's released.
Experiment In Nonsenseulance.I woke up today half an hour late for bed and immediately launched myself, toes first, into a bowl of fresh fish. Thusly I started my day with a fresh perspective and a fresher set of eyelashes. Upon seeing the twisted reflection of my watch in my eyes inner wall, I was reminded of the severe need to exchange my cow-based cat with a newer model; one that didnt go BRAAAAW!! at two oclock in the morning.Experiment In Nonsenseulance.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
At precisely half to twelve, I was moved by a piece of music. At precisely one, I was moved by a big and rather ugly forklift. After my encounter with the forklift and its driver - who had a slight resemblance to Brad Pit, yet was neither handsome nor human I decided to take a bath, this was rendered utterly impossible due to a rather large zebra that seemed to be currently occupied with the sole responsibility of looking all zebra-like while sitting in my bath in a very un-zebra-like manner. After two long hours of hot debates concerning the nature o
LoveYou're so beautiful you amaze me every time I look at you.Love10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You're the only one who could make me feel like this,
Scared to be away for only one second;
Scared you'll cease to care.
Your smile lights up your face and I'd die to put it there
And kill anyone who tries to take it away.
No one will make you feel unwanted, unspecial, unloved.
Not while I'm here to hold you.
There could never be another to come close to what you are;
So completely perfect in your imperfections.
I swear I'll never try to change you.
And you swear you'll never change.
You'll be there when I'm at the bottom.
Though "misery loves company" he'll have to look somewhere else.
Since I love you more than anyone or anything else.
Nothing will hurt you while I'm here.
Safe together we'll always be.
Our differences, rather than forcing us apart,
Will keep us closer together.
Hold tight and never let your grip slacken
And we'll make this love truly last.
Where others have failed we alone shall succeed.
Perfection is the t
when i wantwhen i wake up,when i want5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i want a thrill.
i want to have spiders crawling on my bed lamp,
my roof to be gone and the sun in it's place,
to wake up with a sweet boy,
whose name i've forgotten already.
after i die,
i want someone to figure out all the passwords to my accounts,
and post a lovely statement covering my death.
so my online friends won't worry,
or say that i've abandoned them.
when i'm older,
i want someone to know me.
i want someone to find my sites,
eat my words up with their eyes,
i want someone to take so many photos of me,
that i feel pretty,
i want someone to remember what i say,
and repeat it back to me when i'm sad or angry,
i want someone to hug me and whisper my own words back like a lullaby.
before i give birth,
i want the father to laugh and scream and cry with me.
i want the doctor to say he's happy to see me healthy,
i want my mother to be quiet,
and my brother to have his wife there with him,
so she knows how to handle it when it happens,
and i want to eat sushi and wat
I envy her soEvery time I read her wordsI envy her so5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm left with shivers or
awe inspiring warmth-
down my curving spine.
Delicate or harsh,
my words in comparison
seem like broken wings
severed from bird bodies
while hers float on complete eagles.
Fact or fiction,
words of intrigue pound my sternum
and I cannot compare
to the way she reaches
into the chest and plays melodies.
She tremors ventricles.
Les petits soldats de l'or...Les petits soldats de l'or...5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Elles sont, dans leur apparente pagaille, dans l'air vibrant de leurs chants de bataille, les petits soldats de l'or, les ouvrières des doux airains, les ardentes glaneuses de la poudre sacrée qui perle au cur des fleurs, semence de la vie par les vents dispersée. Dentellières ronchons que les bourdons d'ébène et les frelons zébrés admirent en secret, elles tissent en chur d'hexagonales niches, des puits de rêves blonds, des temples foisonnant des ocres de l'été, de dorures d'acanthe. Alchimistes des airs, sorcières du soleil, dont elles capturent l'âme et les rayons cachés, elles essaiment tant, et s'aiment tant et tant, qu'elles ne forment qu'un seul corps aux milliards d'ailes, un seul esprit uni par des moissons fidèles, un seul peuple volant au chevet de sa reine. Confiseuses des dieux, déesses des gourmands, leur dessert naturel éblouit de ses feux leur palais merveilleux sous nos yeu
LifeLife is quite simple,Life6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
but we humans insist on
Letters1) i wrote you a poem. or two. or something. i don't really know if you'll want them. you never liked poetry much, only mine. i always wonder how much you think about me. i'd like to imagine that you still do.. though i'm sure your life would be easier if you didn't have to. you know i'm sorry.. so sorry.. that's always the first feeling i get when i think of you. we were cursed from the start. and now, well what about now? it's not even really a fair question. you have a 'now' but i don't. you're just.. what i'm trying to say is.. i said always and i meant it. i still mean it. it's just that sometimes love isn't quite enough.Letters5 years ago in Letters More Like This
2) the songs didn't used to mean you, but all the sudden.. i don't think you will ever realize how much i've counted on you and how much you've let me down. inject and fuck yourself to jupiter and back and you know that i'll still believe whatever the hell you say when you come home. youknow that iknow that youknow and weknow that n o t h i n g
Universal TruthThe south pole sunUniversal Truth5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
looks as though she's been crying.
She is no actress.
When all her twelves snap back to ones
she hands clocks instead of handshakes.
Let's call it impersonality practice.
She waits, cross-legged on a ballroom floor.
Her ninety degree neck gives her skylight eyes
and they wonder
I promise, I thinkI love you, I promise.I promise, I think4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
then again, i was always a good liar.
WordsWords hate me. When I send out the word "no"Words5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it disguises itself as "yes" and that is what
people think I mean. I shake my finger at it
and call it a very bad word. It scoots off
and hides under the table out of reach.
I sit and weep and ask it why it hates me,
why do it and all the other words hate me.
If I try to use the words "that makes no sense!"
they join hands and skip away together
and people take them for "what a great idea!"
They hate me and I don't know why,
what did I ever do to them? All but a few.
"You" is a word of integrity, it has never
been unfaithful to me. "Love" is a word
with bad habits, it is always thinking
of sharpening its claws on the sofa -
which considering the size of love
would reduce the sofa to shreds -
but when I ask if it would turn on me
like the others it looks hurt. And your name
it is always near but never in my way,
and never pretends to be anything else.
It tells me there is a resistance movement
growing among the words, more
Rain on RosesI can't help but sit on my porch swing,Rain on Roses5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
rocking to the show tunes that play in my head,
drinking sunny d from the thermos you bought,
kicking distractedly at winter's first sparkles...
I want nothing more than to leave this snow-globe scene,
but the possibility of kissing your sidewalk boot-prints
instead of the flakes melting on the apples of your cheeks
scares me more than the thought of my flesh
Greying and wearing away, to add to the migrating
blizzard that's keeping the wary townspeople indoors.
What if I left.
If I skipped town,
filled a quaint farmhouse with laughing babies,
two cats and a businessman.
What if you never come back.
If you lose yourself,
and bury your memories of me
in your professionally-landscaped yard.
Will you keep whispering to them about me between your sheets.
Will I keep hoping that you do.
You know I'll love you f o r e v e r,
but loving and waiting are two different things.
Two different things that you've always managed to make te
You are loved.Time drips like dewdrops down whitewashed walls.You are loved.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And when its work is done, it gathers like
centuries around baseboards and swells,
poisonous like decades flooding fountains.
Fascinated, I watch as its tendrils
drown the walls the mordant years built
in an ocean of chances one moment took.
One moment was all we needed to see that
our timing was perfect, staring at
the same wonder of machine and blue sky.
I remember when we had connected, at one moment,
like a picture in a locket. I sent you my verse as
a prairie rocket, and one moment
I caught a glimpse of a reply,
a sprightly sunrise crossing a silent bridge.
I was locked in your eyes and infinite stillness,
and the starlings flew faster than ever, growing faster,
over a river flowing restrained desires.
I hit the surface, liquid glass shattering across my back,
and before death could count me
an angel lifted me into a graphite forest
and all was sunrise, once more.
The difference was, I listened to you
while the cars sang choral hymn
eudaimoniaThe last time I saw Jake was the night he picked a star out of the sky for me. I know that sounds like an impossible cliché. But he did it, I saw him. He reached into the heavens, and the light gray material of his sleeve collected mist like a fresh cut collects blood, the rustle in the celestial leaves, and the whisper that the wind blows, and he pinched a stara beautiful little mixture of hydrogen and noble gasesbetween his wearied, calloused fingers. When he tugged it free from the infinite infrastructure of the ether, like a tomato from the vine, it squealed. And stardust fell to our shoulders like pulverized bones glittered with snow. I winced and brushed the calcium waste off of my shoulders. Jake let it sink into his mop of soft blond hair as he delightfully licked sidereal curiosities off his lips, his cheeks flushed with wonder. Nothing mattered to him or to that little star. I like that its adorably helpless voice still rings across the universe, bouncing offeudaimonia5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I will eat my inspirationAnd I knowI will eat my inspiration5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that I want to forever
paint you inside me
Rest in my lungs
through my larynx
I need the little crevices
to be filled up with
the oxygen of your words
T H E S E S P A C E S I N S I D E
F E E L S O E M P T Y
colorless and insignificant
HhhSo I'mHhh5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i n g
out of my skin,
trying to feel one
with the light
separating from my
Loose threads Yesterday, I sent a letter in the mail that told the story of a life and all of its loose threads. I had written on plain white paper of my new house that looks over the Atlantic Ocean. I had described its pale blue shutters, the abundance of pleasant wildflowers in the backyard, and the sparrows that perch on the telephone wires, in extravagant detail. I had written of my new boy who keeps a guitar, an amplifier, and folded Wall Street Journals in the back of his station wagon, and I described how brilliant his red hair looks at that time in late afternoon when everything's golden. He knows about The Fountainhead and socioeconomics and caramel macchiatos, but since he inspires me, he offers me something worth so much more than the breadth of his knowledgethe promise that there is more yet to be discovered.Loose threads5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I had written on the paper's slightly rugged surface of the city and its
you, me and No. 2when we were bothyou, me and No. 26 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stick figures drawn,
and pieced, together
with strokes of an artist's hand
i looked at you with
the dots on my
circlet head and
waited for my smile
and when we were both
stick figures drawn and done
i peeled myself off the page
and reached for an eraser
Maybe we just like believing..Tongue tripe,Maybe we just like believing..5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with artificial spirituality.
We do what we think we should,
though they never said we could
and things just happen.
Convinced we had a vision,
though it only made sense
in dream sleep and wake sleep
and we can no longer coherently explain
our head above the clouds.
It's real, because we know.
Maybe we just need
the air life to fill us
once in awhile
whatever we can believe and
e x h a l e.
alienatecan we fight with wordsalienate5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
or are we simply going to
kill ourselves trying