memory thoughtmemory thought9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wake up! wooden dens
are calling, claim
the dells: badger roots at
eight in the morning
gumboots earthy bluebells,
up, up! off the ground:
climbing game before I count
reddened knees never stop
muddy plasters start
a war game in the stream
sometimes surgeons like to kidsometimes surgeons like to kid9 years ago in Open More Like This
Sometimes I cannot sleep.
Earthquakes burrow into sheet fibres,
knees meet the radiator, the chunks clunk
then chip away, like the roller coaster thoughts
that spin around the room.
My head smacks pillows, and I remember
all the faces I scanned today,
up/down; they sighed boredom --
and had eyeballs where mattresses should be.
Fingertips feel sore, they say sorry
for touching you. I only wanted to see
what your heart felt like on the inside
but these hands did not belong
blood-drenched in you. Right then I decided --
I will never go to the dentist ever again.
He compliments my oral hygiene
as he asks me to open wide. It makes me sick
to bear my teeth like coffee cups to the world.
My spit embarrasses me, reminds me
of all the words caught inside my palate
that I could not say.
I had a dream last night. God came to me and said
'eleven thirty and something
will happen'. He showed me you in my room
like it was October, apple blossoms were by the window
and white strips down th
the postman is not deliveringthe postman is not delivering9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Do not listen when they utter
'when you love someone
your eyelashes chatter to the wind
and fireworks fall from your eyes
and tickle your skin'
because really love is
an old fashioned telephone,
heavy and its ring echoes and shakes
as somebody forces a finger
in the numbers and rams each tiny
to the wrong side of your chest,
then lets it flip back, unaided,
smacking the plastic against skin.
But it never clicks
back in place --
really love is
the sounds of acrylic against keys,
tapping faster to try and keep up
with the pulse of the phone
and the clunks and clanks of the heart, muttering
a late night 'Oh my god I can't catch my breath',
and it's only eleven minutes past midnight
so I think tonight, time is going to drag its feet
through clouds with grabbing hands
that will not tick-tock forward - instead
they grow brittle claws,
not water vapour that used to clings to my windows
so I could smudge feelings into reminders
of how too many hours I have
addictionaddiction11 years ago in General More Like This
have you ever been an addict. and im not talking
about the hey-i-like-to-do-this-alot type of addict.
im talking about the
type of addict. im an addict. ive never blown anyone
to get it. i dont think i would. but i havent been
given the opportunity to either. the reason i say 'i
dont think i would' is because i like to pretend that
i still have something thats mine. dignity, pride,
standards. but i know i would easily toss those away
just to get it. i know because i have. so all i
really have is it. for one hour. for two hours. for
fifteen minutes or however long it last. however long
i can afford it to last. ill be high for fifteen
minutes if thats all i can get.
im an addict. i dont get high just to get high. i
get high just to get my mind off getting high for a
few hours. after a fix im good for eight hours.
maybe. then the last of my previous highs memory
cells dry up and i want. need. how ca
Not a Word About YouI'm not gonna write about your eyes,Not a Word About You9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Cause I've said all there is to be said.
I'm not gonna write about your lips,
Cause there's nothing else left in my head.
I'm not gonna write about your hair,
Or the way you make me melt.
I won't be discussing the power of your heart,
Or anything else that I've felt.
I'm not gonna talk about your laugh,
Or the way you make me smile.
I won't even talk about your intelligence,
Or that I've been in love with you for a while.
Most days I wake up and you make me smile,
Without even being there.
If you could feel what you do to my insides,
You'd know all the words I won't share.
AdamAdam9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
'sometimes when I breathe in
it's like a kick in the heart -
but I do not need saving'
When I was seven years old I wrote those words
in a letter to fairies. Then I slipped the note inside
a pink pillow case, then listened out for their wings
smacking air out of the way.
I did not like sleeping alone.
When I was 11 I kissed a boy with blond hair
and blue eyes, his name was Adam
and his lips were too warm, but I still kissed him
sixteen more times.
He had a royal blue fleece jacket and always smiled.
Always, but I never felt like smiling
and he always asked me why -
'I am too sad' I would say,
then he would hold my white cheeks
in his palms.
On January 24th 1999,
Adam must have felt sad too
because he turned into exactly how I felt on the inside.
But I did not cry when I was told,
it was more like a cold dream
dropping sharp-edged stones on my chest,
and surely soon I would wake up with one or two
still jammed inside my throat,
three minutes later I realised it was just dirty a
finding your life jacketfinding your life jacket8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have a heart like numb limbs,
bad circulation tingles hands
and essays are like a bus journey in rush hour.
I often take naps before the sun
and take walks with the moon.
This is not planned,
this loosening of eyelids, this creaking
of floorboards, this plucking of organs
one by one, so I can get to the centre
where insects play and warmth hides
in the damp.
I did not say this would be easy, this re-hydrating
of lips so I can let kisses go back
where they belong, I do not want to be brittle
with aeroplane hair and match stick smiles that splinter.
I'm trying to find somewhere to go you see,
where cigarettes and supermarkets are not important,
it is not always that simple to find yourself again
under old CDs and that look in your parents eyes
when you return home with slumpping bags
full of eyeballs and clothes three sizes too large.
The world does not care if I am holding a magnifying glass
up to my flesh or holding broken plates tight
or saying 'I am great, thanks' when I really mea
Love LettersLove Letters10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
All here past and present
p a s s i n g n o t e s
over and over again
-Forget me 'now'
(the 'knot' that should have bound us together)
l o o s e n e d
This allowed us to fall
fa s t e r
your love is suicide
and the notes read so blindly...
"Is this what you meant?"
"Is this who you were?"
YouYou can't write a poem when you are in love--You6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Not in the sense of trying to capture what you feel,
What you see, what you desire because there is only so much that can be said.
A simple syllable which grabs the tongue in a choke-hold,
Suffocates the senses and drowns out any other thoughts of logic,
Until every math equation, grammatical structure, and fine pieces of literature
As If I Were SandYou once told me a secret,As If I Were Sand6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Whispered it in my ear.
And I looked at you at once,
And I saw no fear.
So I gave you my trust,
Pressed it into your hand,
And it slipped through your fingers
As if it were sand.
You once came to my bed,
And sang me to sleep.
And you whispered that each lyric
Was mine to keep.
So I gave you my song,
Pressed it into your hand,
And it slipped through your fingers
As if it were sand.
You once gave me your heart,
And held me with your hands,
But I slipped through your fingers
As if I were sand.
No Fairy TalesHow do I start this note? Perhaps it is not even a notefor a note brings to mind something short, sweet, to the point. A note is something you wish to receivea simple reminderbut this is not a reminder. This is not a tender little moment which I stick these words to a post it note and leave somewhere in an area thats obvious, but not. Something when you find it, it brings a smile to your face. This is not that type of note.No Fairy Tales7 years ago in Teen More Like This
Perhaps then I should call it a letter, but a letter seems formal. A letter is trying to capture the news, recalling memories, requesting information, and my ideas do not seem to circulate around any of those. Though, I do suppose it would be nice to hear what is going on in your life, I believe your sweet fingers should not be wasted on writing such a reply to me. Save their strength for a true note to a person who wishes to receive a letter or noteone which brings a smile to their face. I am not that
Fairy TalesFairy Tales10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The martini glass in front of me is too shallow
To drown myself in.
A layer of red at the bottom, grenadine or
Maybe blood spilled between me and you.
I held you away, at arms length behind me,
My emotions are loaded and cocked.
You never once paid attention,
Grabbing me off the dance floor and tipping me into your arms
I'm parallel with the floor and surprised as hell.
"You're fucking beautiful."
I shot you in the face.
The time you bought me coffee
Six dollars at Starbucks with chocolate shavings.
I poured packettes of sugar into our relationship
And waited for things to cool off a little.
They always get too cold.
Half a cup of liquid spilled onto yesterday's newspaper
A condensation ring and two roses on the table,
My ass and breasts walking out the door.
We always were too stubborn
Me with my video games and you with your stargazing.
Alexisonfire and that stupid fucking flash movie.
The time I shouted I hated you and you wouldn't let me leave.
When you held me tightly, arms pinned
one more fireone more fire8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she was looking for purity
(in the form of flesh)
she found it -
in another man's caress
one more mark
for the bedsheet's tally
one more fire
left to burn through
such smooth lies
like silk across her thigh
dragging out the perfume
that flows from lip and pen
notes tucked in
with grandiose groupings of words
of how she's his perfect fit
like a tailor-made trenchcoat
with heretical smiles
a belief in perpetuity
- but not with her
deep as the witching hour
I Never Wanted Anything...I want to remember you like this...I Never Wanted Anything...9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(Just like this.)
I'm through with
first glances and
Thanks for just abandoning me,
And all your friends...
Don't worry about me.
You'd cut off all your fingers just for an excuse not to call me.
I've already made my mistakes.
You're my favourite.
Best one I've made yet.
You're cute as hell, and you suckered me right in. sweet. heart.
Taking turns at 40 mi
DevelopingATasteForTheWater"you dont have to act nervous around me."DevelopingATasteForTheWater9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
easy for you to say.
it'd be easier for me to do if you'd stop staring at me with those clever green eyes.
(and please, stop talking so sweet that every word hits me in the back of the legs.)
When we both know I'm not worth it.
And you're not even desperate.
Cause you know, I like illusions.
We shouldn't jump into love like its a swimming pool.
You never bother testing the water.
I do. An inch at a time.
But you had to keep going sweet talker.
Had to contradict every excuse.
Had to look me in the eyes,
make me bite my lip,
How'd you know my heart was in my eyes and you could stare at it till it started beating again?
"Give up or give in."
Right now I don't see the difference.
I drop you a kiss that leaves you asking "Where did that come from?"
"I'm testing the water."
Then I smile and add
DensityTell me, lover, how the flooded sky peals the soul's vengeance,Density8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the churning of autumn and echoing footfalls on the stairwell
with dusk tasting like our kisses in their eager, sanguine
Fearful of depths, I fled your embrace to fall swooning,
each glance a brush of laden finishing, a heart-heresy.
Yesterday I sealed the last box, wiping my brow and wearing
those sage, harried conversations
as only a crushed kite with torn webbing can muster
in the face of distance.
Now, when I smile at you, there are only waves ebbing
across sandbars and our twilights.
I Saw Stars"Reach for the stars" you said.I Saw Stars9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I stood on tip toe and felt the air close in on me.
I was reaching for oxygen as much as stars.
My eyes and my lungs needed more than I could get.
You sit on the moon, swinging your feet, laughing.
Tears fall from my eyes and you yell down at me
"If you were at the height I am, you could pass that off for rain."
I ran inside the abandoned building that used to be "home".
The peeling paint chipped and when I looked, it was under my fingernails.
I scrapped my way to the room at the very top.
I looked up at the small lightbulb and watched it flicker out.
The window was missing too, a tree branch reaching into the room.
I let it take me and knew it was time to end everything.
It set me down on the moon and I landed facedown, lifeless.
You walked over and kicked me in the ribs.
"Get up. Reach for the stars. Hurry up, your time's almost up."
You held my hand and helped me up but when I got to my feet you let go and my knees unhinged.
hydrocortisone cremeI like to write to you when you are not here,hydrocortisone creme6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It reminds me of your finger nails, of the freckle
behind your left ear and those superglued-limbs
that hold us together.
It seems a long time ago that I was picking my skin
to get closer to you, because thats where you are
asleep, a foetus, weeping inside my pores. I loved you there,
In fact, I loved you everywhere. In Paris in Birmingham in Bradford
in Calgary in Oakville and in the palm of my hands
where you slept sometimes.
I watched you, cocooned in my pink room.
You have thick eyelashes and you breathe heavy,
as if sighing You have to go soon.
I was embarrassed when you caught
my dilated eyes starting down, but you always
caught me back
with a smile.
You are a car ride too far, a potato chip too much,
a book I cannot put down,
everything Ive wanted pressed into one skin.
a thousand hearts filled up with happy
you are a million hairs stood on end when you touch my dry skin
making it soft, making it wa
Hey Sunshine, you kill meLook across the room.Hey Sunshine, you kill me9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm smiling,you're laughing.
But we're dying to know what we're about.
We're biting lips for different reasons
nervous as hell, pain, turn ons...
You're dropping kisses on my lips and saying "I'll see you everyday,right?"
I fall a step back and say "No... we can't."
If I'm ruining this for you, what do you think its doing for me?
We can't work it out
makeshifts and shooting starsdear diary,makeshifts and shooting stars6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
if my calculations are correct,
this is day 24.
the number of circles i've walked
around sky-scraping hopes
in worn-down shoes
filled with sand and salt.
the number of makeshifts
i have learned to make from things
that once washed up on the shore
(just like me).
the number of songs
stuck in my head
that prevent me from
hearing the ocean.
the number of stars i count
before falling asleep.
i look up at the sky
and catch myself wishing upon every shooting star
that it's actually a man-made airplane,
coming to save me.
feel like flying.i used tofeel like flying.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
look at the pretty
how it felt to fly
it was only
these roads we travelYou could've been the girl who changed me.these roads we travel2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
I've fallen down and fallen apart enough times that it gets hard to remember, but sometimes I study my scars in the sunlight and trace the patterns back through time. I spend my mornings living in memories, reliving the places I've scuffed myself, and I've found that romance is better in hindsight. Her kisses are sweeter tinged with nostalgia, and it almost feels like I'm whole again when I'm thinking of the dents she put in my pulse and smoothing out the wrinkles she left in my resolve. For a moment, there's equilibrium, but then the sun is setting and I'm disoriented, dropping fragments of myself between cracks in the sidewalk I'm following down the street and towards an independent sunset. I'm standing on the corner and waiting for the light to turn, and you show up with a wayward smile cradled in your fingers. You press it into my grasp and I'm thinking maybe I've spent too much time looking at my flaws instead of my potential.
You could h
lettersYou said, write me a letter sometime, and I smiled and nodded like it just made my top ten list of things to do today. I was lying because I knew if I ever wrote you a letter it would be uncertain stains all over the page and crumpled corners and scribbles in the very center of the paper that readletters5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I got out my calligraphy pens that night, but could find no words except those running under my skin, catching in my capillaries sickle-style. My vocabulary was hiding in my ventricles, trapped in caverns below my ribs. I had nothing but lies to sing to you, and and my only truths are silently screaming attention-whores. (I keep them locked up, theyll embarrass me.)
If I could form each curve and dash with the utmost precision, youd never know what a shaking hand penned them. If I could only find the right words to make you fall in love with my untruths, Id have a chance, but somehow Im always smearing my real self across the page.
HypocrisyHypocrisy10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mail-in rebates keep her connected to the outside world.
Cracker Jacks provides all her jewelry.
She only sings on Wednesday, and she doesn't believe in tomorrow.
Alphabet soup means profanity in a bowl,
And magnetic poetry means gibberish on the fridge.
Her Barbies are all named after Biblical figures,
And Judas is her favorite.
She was born in August, but swears it was June,
And no one's ever known why.
The only thing she's ever loved is the concept of death --
That one day she will be six feet away from all of life's imperfections.
Pain is always capitalized,
love is always lowercased,
And O. J. didn't do it.
She's very religious --
A dedicated Hypocrite.
Hypocrisy is a beautiful thing,
And Judas listens as she sings it's praises
...but only on Wednesday.
Christmas lights stay up year-round, and sandals must be worn with socks.
She goes jogging at midnight, and follows the moon wherever it may lead her.
Smiling is a sign of weakness, and frowning shows good character.