AstronautHold on,Astronaut2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
though my skin is flayed,
my hands are torn, their tendons
barely kissing the bone,
I hold on.
This is the price you pay
for kissing the sky.
And I gladly
blossom the storm.
A man gets a finite amount
of shots at the firmament.
Saving them won't make his death
keep kindly at bay.
Shoot for the blue and the black,
no need for wings to travel the void,
your mind will be lighter than air,
your body warmed in the glow
of her hair.
Live your life like a line,
or sing and sine the waves.
You rise, you fall, and you
BLAST off and simply
dog poo in spring.dog poo in spring3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
an oak's fallen clothes
pulp thawing on the walk
i ponder death - shit
prying fingers from your headPalpable violets like wool:prying fingers from your head3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(you slam on the breaks and i slam my teeth together
you pretend that you're not looking and i pretend that my spine is the horizon
you love her like some resistant deity without arms and i love her like the shaken hands that chiseled her from dead biology
maybe you don't)
To be Plath in my mind-
my head resting on fumes
rather than in the hands
of some man's rippling
inter aliaoften you find your fingersinter alia3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
fumbling over the ineffably
curious rise of your hip bo
ne, pallid and fragile like t
he first silk a spider's eve
r spun :
your bones plead out agains
t your skin as you constant
ly remind yourself, in stutte
ring gropes and hushed re
flexes, that you're almost t
here, almost absolute and
edging towards existence -
because when he steals your eyes
(i am, it is, you you you )
in glances that rummage through the
charnel of your very soul ( o,
you worry that pieces
of you are stolen, too-
being pulled relentlessly
away like a shrieking child
and it is insatiably the
only thing you never
song,o wretched intestines ofsong,3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
don't wrap fingerlike
,seething in the
places he knew
and when my knees
continue to unexist
quietly unfettered and
pretend that i would
malodorous of unthinkable
She cried. I thought,She cried.She cried. I thought,3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm not su
re that sh
e'll ever k
CombustionThere is no goingCombustion4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
down untrodden roads;
if a path exists
it has been travelled.
The pioneers burn ahead,
glowing spearheads piercing
in the dead of dark.
You and I also smoulder
in secret places.
Every human body
uniquely flames if sparked.
If we fear to flare
we lay ourselves to rest
in the downtrodden earth of generations;
nameless sooty embers,
skeletons and dust.
Home is where the hearth is,
and our cinder beds
hinder every clammy finger
of winter cold from clawing
at our throats. Our threats
imprisoned in envelopes,
in phone calls, feeble
in the collective unconscious.
We leashed the wild
but tamed ourselves.
The fires harden our walls
like oven clay.
Inside we boil obliviously
in our own fat and angsty sweat,
naked and fangless, slowly
seeping into the ground
The comfortable heat
burns the dullest,
but discreetly moistens our meat,
ripe for the urban hunger.
Every path diverges,
myriad choices deviously branch
from the seemingly straightest of line
CorrosionAll cloud grey -Corrosion4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
half the light
shines dull and ashen
and still we paint
our homes in
rust and skeleton.
All squares, cloud grey
and ochre saliva -
we hollow our world
like termites searching
for cave comforts.
Sky blue ceilings
are unicorn in abundance.
The ice breaks our walls
like old and brittle bones.
It may be a lesson
It may be a lesson
on our nature.
The water runs deep
through the cracks.
Inside we corrode,
kings and queens of
skeletons and rust.
catalan nighti fall between the sticky sheetscatalan night4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
like rice paper on the roof of your mouth
when you bite into a white rabbit
Of the unbrokenOf distant scratches end grungy engine blocks.Of the unbroken2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Of your oil-stained body, junker petrol perfume.
Of the snow drifts scaling the hill, your runny nose refused.
Of the slapdash stacks and jam-packed boxes and my uncarrying hands.
Of what my glowing signs and nocturnal symbols spell to you.
Of how the flea bag scar heals, you devil little slugger.
Of exploding fertile curves, sheer joy running wild along them.
Of headaches and fears and laughter and hope and marvelous make-believe.
Of all our woven webs of fantasy, one thought conspicuous by absence.
Of ever, ever leaving you.
WantingA wind blows westwardWanting2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
I fan the sunspotted clouds
I hope her hair moves
,"and all we know is thatThe sky's lips are forced to the rims of smokestacks-,"and all we know is that2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
deep drags like letting yourself become a lung.
I stare out of the window believing in the instinct
to love, while also believing in the gravity that
forces us to live. And we hope to things that
don't exist for things to get better.
All I want is for you to look at me in
a way that makes me feel like I exist.
She takes drags from cigarettes to
make her feel like she exists.
Make me feel like I exist.
Feel like me, I exist.
I exist like me.
Like me, exist.
as the sky takes drags from the
smokestacks like cigarettes.
ProgressionIt is so easy to write about the future.Progression3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
All you have to do is grab a pencil and stab the paper,
scribbling forward-pointing arrows, saying "look! look!" to anyone
foolish enough to read, a mad gleam in your eye.
You can then turn the paper every which way.
Someone will be sure to follow.
My mother mourns her birthdays now.
She once told me that age doesn't matter
and kept to that philosophy until it did.
It was the day she could not get up from the floor
at her own volition, and everything became a mirror.
When I was ten, I told her that everything dies.
It is so easy to write about the past.
Everyone remembers everything wrong,
as if they were actually there. The truth is this:
nothing is impossible, everything is improbable.
I saw a phoenix at the lake, and I see the look on your face.
Were you there?
She tells me how she saw her father in the yard after the accident,
but I was not there.
They tell us that the missiles are for world peace,
but who sat around that table?
All we have
,"(i take your words like tithes for my ephemeral indulgence,"3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
-to execute them one by one into a pyramid at the edge
of my spine. it feels like the sky is choking be
neath me, i am the one with the calloused
hands, i dream of oceans as my mouth
fills with sand. i am the one on
my knees in the distance, ask
ing my hands to be gods, o
god, o violets in the
foggy mirage that a
ppears are you my
like devout shril
ling bodies in the
sea, my family is the
re,my mother is y
ours now and t
he next and th
e next and the
one in the unmar
ked grave she is bea
utifully german take
them all o wake
in my heart
awake me o
o heart in my hands
like grainless sand
"dream, derisively-my eyes will only dance with the apparitions that condense around your uncurious blooms of sleep"dream, derisively-3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Stop:There is nothing betterStop:3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
than the sound of you
falling into me like
a suicidal freight
train releasing its
grasp on the atmosphere
-laughing through clouds,
devouring tracks in its wake.
,if you listen closely you can hear
the shuffle of my brain like a
shovel bearing coal and you
will know that I don't
even know you
Beyond the hollowTell me stories from the farside.Beyond the hollow3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Leave me stranded in the infinite deep.
Open locks that weren't meant to be.
And we can be free.
Tell me what the night sky screams.
Show me secrets from the shiver-dark.
Break my face and leave me maskless.
And never fear the truth.
There is no road map of the jungle veins.
No stop signs on the body of the naked wild.
There are no whispers from the wordless heart.
And no limits limiting.
I'll take you by the hand so we can go there.
Lovers on the way to a different dawn.
I lost my doubts to the lips of the Milky Way.
And I finally hear you sing.
There are lonely atoms in the empty black.
We carry their messages like trusting children.
They hold answers to questions beyond our minds.
But we can formulate each other.
she ricochetedshe ricocheted through the sky like detatched skyscrapersshe ricocheted3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"i am so close to dreaming, don't believe in me."
in is takenUnlike the bottlesin is taken4 years ago in Other More Like This
its "in fact"
its "is a"
of the bottle
or some liquid
there is (usually) air
absence of air
SnowcoverNothing beats in the heart of winter.Snowcover4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We keep our frozen faces
in our open cooler. So hard to dance
in the sudden dark.
We keep forgetting
time fireflies. It is the only thing
that keeps on burning.
Glowing windows frame
our oven lives. We never realize
when we are done.
Slabs of meat, solid
slabs of meat. There is no age
before the spring.
Dead people driven
from the cold. We burn or bury,
but never discard.
In the raw before the snow
all feelings shiver. The distance between
two people touching?
Come thaw, the rot is always brought to light.
Dark sea, no bottomAnd I amDark sea, no bottom4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
out to swim -
no sand in sight,
and I am
a heavy thing
high, I am
because I know
always a way
ahead and out.
ign. sixthese crescent moons have been courting my pupils for weeksign. six5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and that's a good idea they said yeah and figured that somebody somewhere was interested
and boy oh golly oh gee the bears the tigers and the lions
they were right
and they figured yeah they says yeah since he's interested then yeah she's interested too and gosh!let's make everyone
yeah that's what i said
and we'll bless it with a name that will stain your carpets
and not a stain that is overlooked
a stain that reminds you of it when you happen to look down
a stain that embarrasses you when company arrives
a stain that compels you to buy tons and gallons of iswearthisllcleanyourcarpetoryourmoneybackguaranteed
to find that it's just piss and water
but you scrubbed it anyway
you cleaned so exhaustingly long that sweat and tears were just about the same thing
hell, they both taste like salt anyway
all's fair in war
all's fair and
but let me tell you one t