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In Riposte, Jswallow god's sense of humor, and tell me how it feelsIn Riposte, J1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to send gravity crawling on all fours- stir the remnants
of this violet collapse; ardent attachment:
muscular dystrophy.
play the accretion of your dilatory heartstrings for our silent mute
who raise a glass in toast to coalesce our beloved earth,
who study hagiography as a means of beautiful suicide
on lingering, listless oceans emptying unto itself.
and maybe your ascension was predetermined, perhaps
drawn in apologetic ink on the eyelids of our graceful blind,
who invented the word ugly to describe the fallacy of lost smiles
painted in shadow on your claustrophobic sighs.
storms and constellationsyour lips kissed each star-frecklestorms and constellations2 weeks ago in Free Verse More Like This
and i felt my sky shift under the weight of you.
i looked into your eyes and became
lost in your muddy constellations.
you were never pure; and now
i would be pulled by your gravity,
trapped in the dusty, lightless expanse of you.
you crushed me under your body,
molding my every fiber, rearranging
my entire being to fit inside your crevices.
our heavens collided; your universe
devoured me and everything was stained with
my wishful stars and your hopeless ink.
you swallowed my every super nova,
crushing my planets and suns and black holes
and i spilt dark matter onto your blank parchment.
i made maps out of
Sunshine on the River The dappled riverSunshine on the River9 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Babbles the sound of sunshine
To her pebbled bed
gasp and grasppretend you've been set loosegasp and grasp1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
into something stingingly sweet
a bloody petal flinging itself
into the wind, lusting for drapes of
grey mist, for tingling particles
of softly fluttering oceans to engulf it
like a silken glove.
pretend you have found the
crooning emptiness of the waves,
and let your spirit sink into him
because hearts melt into quicksand
and you will find your peace,
i promise.
(and if your wings should stir,
if something new fills your veins,
empty yourself into the very tips of their feathers
and be ready.)
Between the Barsi.Between the Bars2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I kiss the sickly mouths
of strangers—
noticing how the cracks
in their faces mirror
the ones in the pavement.
ii.
An anonymous photo
of a radioactive tattoo
flashes in the night—
drunken smiles whispering
to the wind
& the thousand windows
across the street
screeching like train brakes
in warning.
iii.
Falling down with
the flickering colors—
my arms raised in
intricate patterns
on the ceiling—
I find myself mattering
a little less each time.
There is no sympathy
in strobe lights
& no one is seeing the heat
of pheromones & alcohol
on the dance floor.
iv.
A meat market rolls out
with the
a paradiseEveryday, a sticky sun squeezes its viscous light out of the corner of the sky. It oozes out, slowly dripping down the throbbing walls of the earth. The walls aren't brittle - they're hard as bone, strong and thick; so thick that they let no sticky, yellow light leak through. Everyday we stretch out our arms, just to imagine the feeling of that sticky, yellow light touching our fingers.a paradise10 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Every night the sun gets washed away by a river of tiny, white lights. Every night we tilt our faces upwards, religiously, almost asking the lights for forgiveness. Forgive us for our pain, forgive us for tearing our muscles as we reach for the sweet, warm li
SolarThe light breaks intoSolar1 month ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
your house, where you sit facing
east. In the sky, a
dragon rises, flaming, and
gives birth to a golden sun.
coastlinethis morning I woke incoastline2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the middle of the ocean after
a night of your gentle waves lulling
me to sleep,
you smiled at my wet lips
and heavy eyes and said
never regret this smile, never forget
this joy.
we linger here now, in between
worlds, washed up
ashore.
asleep, inside, reborn, wornwe were girls once, following the tepid musings of the ones we sought. when sunshine slept on our eyelids in front rooms, backrooms, and kitchens, our vision was full of motion. our lives were full of brimmed one-sided warmth reflecting the smallness of our backs and our mouths and the things we saw outside our windows. we saw the streets and the dirty cars and the black tar but we didn't think of those. instead, our time dripped silent from the beams of our hair as we braided it down our backs and comforted each other with our arms tucked and folded together, piled.asleep, inside, reborn, worn1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
there they were. the boys walked on the outside, laughing flowers and kissi
such gentle thingsi.such gentle things1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
star rain sun moon
stir by still
as they slept their dreams
(such gentle things)
ii.
he.
kissed.
her.
feelings swam around like birds
to leave everything blue
into light of day.
iii.
sun fell—
in deep sleep
sky picked—
honey nights
leaves stars sticky
in motions slow
among the empty
little coffee cups,
waste-jar dreams
faded into night.
iv.
between the banana sea
that breathed on wind,
i arrived there softly
walking underwater
with ocean's misstep.
v.
maybe you could be lellow—
like a dandelion lost in spring—
and i'll be your green—
like the arms of grass—
if you fall,
i'll catch you
gentle
(please.)
your song reminds me of swimmingslipping into the cool cerulean blueyour song reminds me of swimming1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
shedding layers
unwrapping myself in this u n d e r w a t e r world
until I am mentally naked
beneath the liquid ceiling
my mask m e l t s away
sugar and spices and ever
something in the oceanthere's something in thesomething in the ocean1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
ocean that demands a
eulogy, something loud
and commandeering.
bit by bit he is losing his
mind in this heat and the
weather fluctuations
have him tossing and
turning in the middle
of the night. he tells me
that the moon no longer
brings him good tidings
(he would never admit it
but the only news he
receives nowadays is
from the sun). he knows
he is the last of all the
ponds, pools, lagoons,
waterfalls and riverbanks,
and he also knows
that he can be easily
forgotten. at his request
i describe in vivid words
and colors his rippling tides,
roaring cries and shimmering
clear skin. he insists i
so here's the thing:i feel like a tired littleso here's the thing:2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
skeleton wearing the
same shirt 1, 2,
3 days in a row, knuckles
drumming along the knobs
of my spine and fingers
digging in
be twe en the rib bones
that flash in the sun and create
shadows on my skin
and listen, everybody wants to be
skinny but i want to sleep and it's funny
, i don't want my bones to
skick out at
odd
angles
but my stomach
Rhubarb.i.Rhubarb.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
there is a locket
with books and birds
and us,
entwined
ii.
passed, September
brings October;
the sky, earth is
lilac
iii.
we touched without
movement,
your hands sighed
iv.
phrases and eyes sway me;
I will be grey
when you are
v.
a town of crystals,
sepia-sun and
peace;
I am there, within
the city
vi.
we speak of making
love, and I will
admit an
enigma
vii.
you have only two
names;
both are kind
viii.
and we will
live, in the
dawn of contentment;
naked and alive
ix.
pulsatilla for my
eyes, sulphur
for I;
my spirit is calm,
my body is tired
x.
and soon, it will
be December,
and while distand l
The Many Paths We Takecaught in diagonalThe Many Paths We Take1 month ago in Free Verse More Like This
glances
toward the distant light
flashing
eyes like solar systems
in orbit
we dance intimately
beyond
the spectrum can reach
forever
wistful
l'homme qui a vuHis breath escapes in empty gasps, and the thin air strips the fire from his lungs. His chest burns and his thighs ache, but he never stops climbing.l'homme qui a vu2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Her song spins through the cool night air. Look how her dress shines in the light, they tell him. Look how her face glows, they tell him. Look how she curves perfectly beneath the red satin, they tell him. Blind, he can do none of these things. He can only listen, but that is enough.
The stones beneath his feet are cool and rough. How long has it been since he wore shoes? How long has he been walking?
She straightens his collar, humming to herself. He knows the song, though he remembers few
Stupid poetrySoul-splitting literature isn't your thing.Stupid poetry10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I like that.
No feathery weatherman poetry.
all that stuff in lower case about punctured bones and hollow, aching skies.
About the discovery of sex heaven
Basking in some purple floral essence of souls and synapses
Those deep red, masochistic writings of blotchy, crying eyes
staring at galaxies of colourful bruises
thinking about the twisted shadows of days beautifully and uncontrollably slipping behind
birds and trees
and glowing bees
and precious scars
and lah dee dahs
and erratic long sentences that use up the air in your chest because fuck you and your structured grammared
CoppersmithI caught a sun gold.Coppersmith2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Trembling old in my cupped palm, quiet copper,
as my rage on our queen, for so crippling me.
And how too did I rail –
against you, Cyprian beloved?
Understand: I grow too old
for bows and arrows, Eros.
Thirst of a Poetthe bards have bumblebees in their mouths,Thirst of a Poet2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for language is babbling,
a brook in a bowl, joy brimming;
billowing, rippling, surging –
and spilling; sashaying down,
with a swaying sound (oh-so wistful, oh).
language is burbling,
an impish kiss of mouth from mouth;
bewildering, baffling, bemusing –
and tricking; tumbling round,
to touch a fellow Fool and his nought (so wistful, oh),
and disturbs a Poet, who slips
into a dream of a vagabond –
"where are you calling from?" he murmurs,
in his sleep, and the newspaper flutters
with a snore; then rests on his chin (just so, oh),
and language sidles past him up to me,
and places
dialogue of the tidesI.dialogue of the tides2 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
the tumult,
water.
II.
mercurial steadfast
III.
in seashells, expanses.
IV.
ruthlessly, home.
V.
oceans underfoot – everywhere.
VI.
architect of thirst
VII.
softest,
oldest
endurance
VIII.
windblown light, steeped.
IX.
seabed:
eroded engines.
X.
savage – albatross –
XI.
crag of solace
XII.
looking glass– jungle.
XIII.
perpetually
unearthed.
restless
XIV.
rust, aglow
XV.
contrary,
sanctuary– ?
XVI.
beloved unkempt unknown
XVII.
no pearl: oyster?
XVIII.
artless deep
XIX.
whales, stones –
trembling.
XX.
seeking, you exist.
XXI.
renegade harbour
XXII.
persistence:
abandoned always
dry-erase i exhale in long, unbroken paragraphs.dry-erase1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
the sky is never symmetrical on nights like these. the stars don't align perfectly on earth's axis, and you don't hesitate to point it out.
you examined the celestial bulbs, and screamed. you curse the sky & i string out each of my hopes on a winter breeze, and the wind stirs my bones. my skeleton freezes over & you notice. you reach out for my hand.
"no."
indifferently you sigh, and i inscribe my worries on my skin, pen scrawling over the expanse of flesh.
you lean in & smile. with the intimacy of tapeworms you breathe hot tiger-breath down my spine and try to exhale the hypergraphia from my flesh
Sta.sh
