'tis the seasonanother december's defeated me'tis the season6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one more winter
to the ghosts
who keep leaving me
choking on hope
'til I'm hoping
they'll leave me be
'round my bony tree
forced to flee
a certain we
surely she loves
but her I's
keep deceiving me
as snow melt
as they appear
when the numbers
have no meaning
about the year
RendezvousI think you and I shouldRendezvous5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Try being in love for a little while.
We have a track-record for choosing
Those who break our heart, those who
Drop us off on the side of a
Lonely 2-lane highway far outside Amarillo.
You and I are the sort who
Don't sit there waiting for the dust
To settle. There is so much to be
Seen and so little time to see it in.
So we pick ourselves up, brush off the
Dust, and continue down the road,
Smiling at beautiful sunsets, breath-taking
Sunrises, and long afternoons in the light of day.
Let's get lost for a little while,
Open doors we've never tried before.
Crawl through windows that require
A step-stool and a crowbar. Breathe in one
Another until we've had more than our fill.
We can repaint the night with paintbrushes
That don't require us to give up our
waterwater runs out in a thin stream into a bowl already part full. quiet yet loud it is in silence. it could be a waterfall, a foss, a force, a cataract. it could be Victoria. or Angel in the forest cliffs. and yet it iswater2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
seeking the level of the sea, the lowest it can go.
where it would do nothing on its own. only the wind pushes it to accomplish, to do.
why do they disturb me?
when all i want is peace
dirty musicianthe street lights pukeddirty musician6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
cloak of yellow
and black spit away from cracked-
and it was
as if this man
or had been
to the place
from which he played
probably stolen from
or hell's only
a pawn shop
dollar bills fell
into it's coffin
as if hypnotized
by the guitar strings
in a slow-
sway only found
balligomingo...we dance -balligomingo...6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
allow lips to brush
tantalize each other
dive in pleasure
goosebumps on arms
traverses in shivers
love of love
not of lust
desire of desire
as in a wire
soon to erode
i whisper your name
dear meisha, come home asapyou shredded a million little fingertips.dear meisha, come home asap6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sucked the meat right out from under the filthy cracks
and didnt even leave time to chew
you up and down yourself, love. ow,
ow my bone marrow! youre making it sting
the way you're bringing cobras to my clavicle,
please dont please dont
stick me in the ocean with the orcas.
theyre so beautiful, but i saw what they
did to that seal, i said i saw what they did
to that seal.
and how i caught you stealing my nailpolish from my
underwear drawer, was like a machete through my
canvas, and this all goes back to the day i watched
that huskiwolf heave blood all over my turtleskin. hi,
my name's tori, and i had a dog, but it died. hi, my names
tori, and i had a cat, but it
An Hour AheadI tell timeAn Hour Ahead4 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
by the ribbons
through the shutters
the lines they take
around the room
like a road trip,
by the woman
on her cigarette break
cutting spherical patterns
into the pavement
& by the clock
waiting by my bed
like a lone soldier
the flashing glint
of his armor
keeping watch over
How Are The Cats?How are the cats? they say to meHow Are The Cats?5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
In the space where How are the kids? should be
As though compelled to obey social pleasantry
But confounded how to categorise me
When I'm clearly such an anomaly?
Not a mum, not a career girl
What else is there for a woman to be?
So I see them thinking.
Time after time I see people fall
At the how-are-the-kids fence
Like it's the barren elephant in a sterile living room
My supposed heartbreak, a 'fact' that must never be mentioned
A woman my age without children?
Why, it can only mean one thing
Especially when you look at the family history,
They whisper soundlessly, pityingly, thinking I can't hear them
Just because the words aren't spoken aloud.
I observe the delicate verbal tiptoeing
And feel touched and frustrated both at the same time
How I long just to tell them the simple truth:
I don't have kids because I don't want kids.
But I've seen it too many times now:
The surprised look, the puzzled frown
below the treelinein mountain chill, immobilebelow the treeline9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
beneath scattered night-blown clouds -
i see hundreds of evergreen trees
like attentive dark arrows, aiming
straining toward a full moon
they appear unified in readiness -
perhaps to pursue a place
less despoiled by... Us?
llp - dA - dec2014
post quake [a tanka]post quake4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
now there are ripples
soothing in mood and rhythm
there was more before
a shush as each new murmur
meets a silent sheltered shore
llp - dec2011 - dA
P.S.I'm not writing this naked,P.S.5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
But my heart is.
And it writes with all the partially healed wounds of yesterday,
Beating perilously strong with this love of you.
pick a catchphrase, die aloneattention all skeletons:pick a catchphrase, die alone7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
announce your exit!
find yourself fixed
in new flesh
less them guts
to spell grit
clamp the new bit
you're so proud
to be bursting
have such high hopes
with your yesterdays
like paper ghosts
who merely moan
to move the room
but I am not buying
love poorly conceived
(with a twist!)
poems with all
the aching heart
of a grocery list
if only this - IIfirst, the haiku -if only this - II4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in essense of knowing thee
ere my learning me
~ ~ ~
of learning you
to save what lives
inside of me.
a sterile plant,
not to begin
a blossoming -
of fertile nourishment.
anew from you,
sweet liquid to waft
on gentle finger-tip,
a drop to draught,
daring to sip.
supple in limb,
for time and time,
soul long sole,
a centered heart,
now taking to flower,
if quiet wishes
in clumsy diction,
could prove the power...
to be prediction.
llp - sep2009 - dA
new - oct2011 - dA
Ah Ah Ah Mic TestIt's 8:34. I wake up covered in covered morning light. I don't know where I amAh Ah Ah Mic Test6 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
but I feel that this should feel very familiar to me, there are bottles strewn
all about and the bed is unmade, I am sleeping on a pile of clothes on a pile
of mattress. The shutters are down, I can't see outside and I think, "this is
all very symbolic".
I think of drifting back to sleep but don't tell myself any stories.
I don't get up until 10:11. This is appropriate. The cradle's too warm, the
world's too cold, I am bored with myself and there is nothing for me here. I
wonder why I stay. The chill doesn't strike me much, even in December this
place never freezes. I walk to the bathroom, my parents' room's door is
closed. My mother works, she is not home, my father does nothing, he is always
at home. The obligatory bathroom is next door. I don't turn on the lights, the
fractured relay of mosaic glass is comforting, mesmerizing. I look in the
mirror and see dreams filter through in recollection of myself an
Disaster InstructionsAll I wanted wasDisaster Instructions4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for you to stay
rest against the
& count every freckle
in the sky with me.
I was trying to
create my own miracle
staring at your goodbye
hitting the window
& becoming a
The sky was on fire
& every ashy ambulance
was taking you away
I loved you.
Guernica bombed itself
into your heart
I waited by the phone
to hear your anger
instead of all the
over the radio.
jokesi promise that i will always amuse;jokes6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
proud pieces of promiscuity
and vivacious displays of vulgarity.
surprising fountains of profanity
spouting from the mouths of barely babes,
but i want you to know something.
i am not the laughs under your tongue
i am not the smile upon your lips
i may never be without one of the two
but they do not define who i am.
there are half-baked scars burned, but raw
stretching across my face and they
curve at the right piece of time,
parting for the red sea of dead cells
i'll pretend doesn't exist at all.
just because i'm the funny girl
because my nose is a touch bulbous
my voice a sound raucous
and because i never seem to cry
doesn't mean i don't.
jokes have feelings, too.
if i'm not speaking, maybe there's a reason.
i'm skating on thin ice without blades
a shuffling across frostbitten souls
i'm ready for the lake to break apart
and leave me sinking to the bottom.
i'd tell you that i want to die.
but i've got a better punchline.
sweet and beautifulbeginnings, now beginning -sweet and beautiful5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
[just the jotting of a starting]
this poem inspired by you,
you, more sweet than beautiful,
more beautiful than sweet.
does it depend on temperature,
time of day or night,
sitting to the left of me,
standing on the right?
no, it depends on how you feel,
the subject of the day,
relationships with others,
all the do and say.
both attributes will vary,
with daily ebb and sway,
...but neither sweet nor beautiful
shall ever fade away.
llp - may'10 - dA
1950You were a housewife19505 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
dancing along with the radio
skirt fluttering like hands
to the popular songs
as I sulked with Billie Holiday
in my domestic prison cell
waiting for another night
of half-sleep & candy pills.
You were enthralled
with arranging flowers,
cooking dead meat
& I looked at them both
as cadavers coming back
to haunt me.
Your husband came home
to a pot roast & cocktail
while mine only received me
drowning in vodka & expectations.
The boulder of
trying to win at something
I was never prepared for.
There is an art to creating a home
that you've mastered
I floundered along
with thick limbs
& a wish to run off to Paris
& pretend there was nothing to life
but words & movies projected in the sky.
A good wife is made from recipes,
fresh perfume & a need for complacency
my cloth is cut with birds singing in Greek,
stale cigarette smoke
& bouts of ennui
punishing myself nightly
with searching for blind spots
& finding none.
While you were practicing pe
SuicideI listen to your dirgeSuicide5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
& hold still, hold
& remind myself
of a girl I knew
who choked herself
out of her pain.
The stereo ticks off
in your old mouth
to drown in.
there are children
calling out like birds,
men severing ties
for a mediocre dinner,
into empty bottles
& sending them to
pulling out my eyelashes
for a man dead
ten years before
The sun settles
into the blankets
of the mountains,
I lay still
& pretend these
are your last moments
SupermoonI sit here, quietly battling my demons over a cup of tea,Supermoon4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you at the other end, receiving my transmissions.
We talk, or I do tonight, because I have things to say, mindless things
like how my hair breaks, the random coldness of spring, what I said to this and that and nobody,
how I have a black hole for a heart.
You listen. You disregard the fluff. You reply at the right moment, every time.
We've danced this one before, after all.
Outside, not far from my window, a guy is shot in the head. He dies.
I take a sip of tea, tell you more about my problems. They fill my mind entirely.
His body lies immobile, more shots are fired, two others are hit. A black car disappears into the night.
I tell you something about how I can't get my relationships to work. This seems important.
They find the car in flames some miles away. The killer ghosts have vanished.
You tell me to sleep. It is a full Moon lunar perigee. None of us are superstitious.
The night is impenetrable, dark, claustrophobic. I reme
formerly known as alwayssometimes I sense thatformerly known as always8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the way
sparkling shine and
dulled sense of rejection
but running at the mouth again
and I'm traveling the circle
your thoughts made
and if ever there was anything
we lost it
tongue stumbling over steps
and sorry boy
you love to dance
eyes locked on loving interests
and I loved
standing in between
you were interested
a footnote explained
(getting good at goodbyes
and not good enough for anything)
stone heads above the deadgraveyard is the Moonstone heads above the dead3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
full and empty of bacteria that might have been
of wanderers wise
of wandering fools
how well that idiot poet of an ancient time has said
dust to dust
credit he assigned to the wrong being
and yet he spoke the truth
it is our end and our beginning
our eternal youth