Awkward Underwater RelationsShe does a crab danceAwkward Underwater Relations5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
while looking at those who swim
hoping that someone will understand
(no one usually does)
six steps to fixing youstep onesix steps to fixing you1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
cry. scream. bang your fists against the walls
that keep you locked inside.
kick your feet in the air. tell your sister she's stupid
and wrong and that you've never loved her.
cry. scream. apologize via him to you.
let your tears catch on your lashes
until you can no longer see anything but your own
demise. taste the bitterness left in
your mouth from your own bitching and rot in it.
break a mug. break two. kick
the pieces around the kitchen floor and cry some more.
break a plate. break a cup. break a bowl.
break a finger because nothing can take away this
sort of pain. you are empty and yet
you are filled with so much anger.
break a razor and paint pictures across your skin.
you are okay, you tell them.
you break three days later and you lie
in bed, unable to move.
start picking up the pieces. clean up the mess
you've made and he's left.
use windex to polish off the dirt and
My call to the Mental Health Hotline.Hello, and welcome to the Mental Health Hotline.My call to the Mental Health Hotline.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If you are incisive compulsive, press 1 repeatedly.
If you are co-dependent, ask someone to press 2 for you.
If you have multiple personalities, press 3456.
If you are paranoid, we know what you are and we know what you want. Stay on this line and we’ll trace your call.
If you’re delusional, press 7 and your call will be transferred to the mother ship.
If you are schizophrenic, listen close and the small voice will tell you what number to press.
If you are depressive then it doesn't matter which number you press, no one will answer you.
If you are dyslexic, press 69696969.
If you have a nervous disorder, please fidget with the hash key until the beep. After the beep, please wait for the beep.
If you have short term memory loss, try your call again later.
And if you have low self-esteem, just hang up. All our operators are too busy to talk to
For Helping MeFor Helping Me5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Even when I'm in
The darkest place
You'll always understand.
You've been there.
Sometimes you're already there
Waiting for me.
But whether you want
Me to save you
Or join you
I do not know.
I release my pain
Using the blade
And you snap.
I don't understand
What you what me to do.
I can't just sit there and suffer.
I've never been able to.
I try to release my pain
Using the elastic band
But you make me
Promise never to again.
Do you not understand
How hard it is
For me to stop?
But then I look
And I see
That you are the only person
Who is like me.
And I love you
For being you.
For helping me.
BlessingMy father strangled a birdBlessing5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
quietly, calm as gravity,
there in the garden. He bent
as if praying to the torqued wing
reddening his hand.
The night hunkered down on the screaming
wildness, on the kicking legs, the abrupt
and awe-filled silence. I watched him
watch the beak open, close,
like rippling lake water.
I loved him, the mercy
of his heavy knuckles, the kindly
He closed the beak like a priest
closes the eyes.
The KrakenThe Kraken2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Your life is a boat
Wandering the desolate seas.
But then nothing.
Until the heavens open.
The seas waves grow and grow
Hitting your mast,
What guides you
pulling you on your right path.
In the dark deep waters
Lurks a demon.
A demon so big
It will swallow you whole.
until your last dying breath.
Your worst enemy.
It will wrap its deadly tentacles around you.
Squeeze away your pleading scream.
It's your life's worst enemy.
resistanceThe key to happiness is to always be fucking somethingresistance3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am incapable
because I let it
go only to a certain point
arrhythmia is a tremor,
a Malthusian catastrophe
less solvent than snow.
The renegade who serves
my synapse sequences knows
this, and she develops fevers
to quell my dependence on
our forest of censored souls.
Mine is a passive immunity.
She makes tsetse flies,
fills them with blinks,
and releases them as impulses
that vaccinate my love against
the hurting. I'm not so deep
and I know nothing of suffering.
GlobalThe world is a stage,Global3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
not quite a cage.
Even when alone,
we feel prone.
or hear a sound.
Its not paranoia,
this goes higher.
Were feeling there gaze,
in our pink cloud haze.
What we percieve,
is where were decieved.
All weve been taught,
is how weve been bought.
Well go round again,
like its a trend.
The world is a stage,
not quite a cage.
Dick and Laurence Renku-2end of summerDick and Laurence Renku-25 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the deflated wheel
of a tricycle
first day of spring
the prostitute forces a smile
no moon tonight
the cleaners plan a strike
in the same letter
after the stroke
she calls me 'Michael'
my mother checks
the spider rebuilds its web
I don't recognize
another year older
the morepork's song
the infant's grip
a raven slips
last week of tutorials
the roof springs a leak
the beggar tries
the pub falls silent
we mute the program
sniffing her panties
in the thrift store coat
the hills disappear
on Atlanta homeless
first Christmas alone
the snow so dee
Lazy daysGod, send me a sandy-blonde queenLazy days3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for the lazy days
for the suckerbears and honeycombs
and that smoldering crocodile apathy
She can be like me,
tossing a chunk of snooty china at the wall -
just to delight in watching the pieces hit the floor
like melting pellets of rain.
hidden tearsi lock away he painhidden tears3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
put away the fears
show you only smiles
not the hidden tears
Summer Renga1.Summer Renga6 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the beggar receives
my brother adds wings
to the chalk dragon
all six hands
of the hornet
mountain pass coyote eyes in xenon
wraps the sky
a photo of grandpa
the sleeping toddler
her sundress dips
from the cornfield
another man's shape
in the darkness
a week of clouds-
my sister paints her nails
the magician makes lunch
Weekend HikeBlue dawn. After one last stretch, I start alone up Kennesaw Mountain.Weekend Hike5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the sparrow's song
Most Sundays, I would be joined by mom and, if we can budge him, my kid brother. Today they have opted for church. I don't mind the solitude. Walking alone, I focus on breathing, slow and deep into the stomach. In martial arts, this is called Qi Gong. The old masters would breathe this way to increase their longevity.
on the young girl's lips
Passing a field, I'm surrounded by butterflies. Swallowtails, Hairstreaks, even a Southern Dogface! I've never seen so many at once. Among the insects, hikers scour bushes for ripening blackberries. According to the guidepost, this is where General Sherman suffered his heaviest casualties.
the cannon packed
Guide You HomeYou study the stars on my arms,Guide You Home3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
blended constellations set in negative,
as though they could guide you
from your grinding teeth and furrowed brows,
to the final release and the following calm.
You have not asked a question of me.
I, therefore, have no answers for you.
The wheeling sky is paused, silent, skin.
I cannot lead you home,
though you searched my astrology and I, as we
hovered over your body. I am not, I never was
truly set with sky, infinite, omniscient.
I cannot divine the questions caught
behind your open mouth, closed throat.
I am human, and fickle, and finite.
There are no answers in me.
Chemdawgit was often violet and an argument for compressionChemdawg3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the cities redraft in a shale from which
all ideology and unchecked airport baggage pour
like oil through the layers which is how archaeologists tell time,
so I ask the psychonaut if his people know and he says
we embed poets to report on the wars, sometimes
a sediment constructed entirely of heroes will open
deep in a desert nobody named so i ask again and he says
and then the poets come home and try to write
but all we get are bills and soft plays about girls who die
on an airplane in a dream and when they wake
everything is actually blue except blue is actually violet,
and then another hit and the airplane drops 298 feet
so that by the time your soul catches up to you in a cold swell of water
you will have already become the photographs that remind your family of empty fields.
* * *
he thinks of words like retrovirus in a foil revival
by refined supercriticals until revolutions occur frequently
on each wall like pre-depression film
YouYou5 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Do you know how much I want you,
How anxiously I miss you.
How much is there to go without you and how my heart beats because of you.
It's like the way my heart grows,
With each moment I am with you.
Just there's never enough in lonely moments when I am not with you.
But I know how much you love me too,
How there's tomorrow for everything.
Yet your smile alone makes me think of nothing else but you.
Autumn Saku Series1.Autumn Saku Series5 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
cloudless noon we debate the gender of God
alone in the field
the phone line rocking
the beggar jangles
his change cup
the cubicle office
work day over
the scarecrow's shirt
leaf clutter at his gravestone things I never said
the teenager paints
miles from home
news of her cancer
in stage 2
the bike race slower
leaving the canoe
world hunger report
I turn the potatoes
a second time
city dusk now and then a starling
my grandmother finds
the groundskeeper steps
the Jack O' lantern carved
with an overbite
at the general's feet
a beer can
the widow circles
a singles ad
the trashcan glowing
the evangelist returns
with a pie
Marele CircMarele Circ6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Roata cea mare are spiţe
cu sculpturi albe, cu ochi albaştri şi păr bălai.
Muşchii bronzaţi strălucesc sub mâna dresorului.
Nu, nu-i o roată făcută de vreun meşter
la vreo răscruce, pe-o fântână
spre-ai răcori pe călători.
Spiţele se învârtesc şi, între ele,
două feline mari se aleargă să se sfâşie,
un tigru cu blana vârstată cu roşu şi negru
învârte roata mare cu stele violete
în strigăte căzăceşti de luptă
printre nori vineţii şi o panteră albă,
uriaşă, nefirească precum un buchet de vise,
de roze albe înrourate pe care le trezeşte Dimineaţa,
ca o acrobată neagră ce-nvârte pe şolduri
cercuri ample de lumină.
În centru dresorul cu biciul său
strigând adânc în fi
PlaguePlague3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
seven plagues upon your house
and tonight the flies
are home to roost.
I count their tiny wings
in the room
where your daughter
is not sleeping.
Locusts claimed your orchard
a week before the harvest,
sucked the green
for an angry god
and bore the apples
off to goblin market.
They found boils
upon your mother -
those angry pustules
ladies do not discuss,
in the marriage bed
where your father
does not sleep.
Anthrax has raped your stables,
pillaged the hooves
and left lame stalls
as your fields -
no oxen for your yoke.
And the darkness just keeps
everything in its path,
souring the wine
and bleeding out the laundry
left baking in the tub.
But it is your first born
you will miss the most -
that simple beaming toddler
in his mother's arms.
He has your brother's smile
and the blight of sweetest
where his father's hand