Beauty as a Butcher's KnifeThe sound of a dull knifeBeauty as a Butcher's Knife3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
hacking, hacking, hacking
through a daughter's vertebrae,
her face pressed firmly against the cutting board,
her screams escaping as only yellow butterflies
somebody told her lies
An infant died playing Russian roulet
Ten bottles on the table
five of milk,
four of water
and one of poison
somebody let the noise in
A fisherman's child found my only lover
in a garbage bag cradle, muddy mouth gaping,
vines embracing her moldy wrists
mother nature is an artist
she'll paint your corpse deep black
somebody held me back
somebody held me back.
OhFingers in front ofOh3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
laced in light.
The arid, shifting
desert of your palms.
Sand in the beachgrass,
Listen to the shell:
it will teach
what is alive.
Tell your children it was the ocean.
The whole world
can hear you breathe.
Are you innocent yet?
and long, dark hair.
May she never hear the name
that you whisper through the dark.
Going, going, goneGoing, going, goneGoing, going, gone3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Three dollars, three fifty, four, the bristles
of Daddy's hairbrush, a handful of porcupine quills
rough as his unshaven face. In the trees,
moths roost like hens, their wings so still
as though Daddy had painted them.
The auctioneer, his black felt hat drooping
with the heat, strides across the snow of their wings,
Daddy's wristwatch nesting
in the palm of his hand, a raven. "Nevermore,"
Daddy would read to us. "Never again,"
Mama said bundling up Daddy's things with prickly twine.
He painted everything: house, barn, yearlings, tractor. "Sold,"
yells the auctioneer, a weathercock in his arms,
wings rough as the hides of Daddy's painted calves.
"Death is too smooth to paint," Daddy said.
But the faster he painted, the faster he died.
I cut the bristles from his brushes,
but he simply tied horsetail hairs to sticks.
Daddy even painted himself, skin translucent as moth wings.
I would sit on his lap. "Paint me, "I would ask,
patting his stubble until my hand stung.
The LongA part,The Long3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Yet not together
Confidence a feather.
Told to need,
Not knowing how to start.
A hiking trip of fear.
Frozen by their shouts.
Timed in bits
Friendships born by act of wit.
Waft around another bend.
Share a dream upon a cloud.
Passed the tense,
Questioning what to be.
i only asked for the end of the world"i found shadows in the sun again,"i only asked for the end of the world3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i looked at her
with a gleam of sarcasm in my eyes,
as she looked down with wind in her hair.
the night looked lovely on her.
the purple of post-nebula progression
it made her eyes look electric blue
though they were a soft green.
"i said, i found shadows on the sun again."
she'd never look up unless
she couldn't breathe and needed
to pull a sigh out of her butterfly winged lungs.
and that bothered me;
- she'd refuse to breathe
only because the air seemed
she'd give up so easily sometimes.
i run out of pretty things to say
but she looks at me expectantly,
hoping i'll find my muse
within the corner of he
Property OfIt's hard to believeProperty Of3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I'm here again,
after so many years.
I promised myself
I'd never return,
but it seems
we always do.
There are a few paved streets
where dirt roads once were
and the corner store
no longer stands.
Aside from that,
I'm shocked and amazed
by how little
things have changed.
The differences I see
are marked only by neglect.
Perhaps even God
has a sense
The road I lived down
now has a name.
A lone mail box
stands out front.
Without four-wheel drive
you'll never get down it;
glad I came prepared.
I have to admit
I'm a bit reluctant,
but I've come too far
to turn back now.
I inch my way
through the mud
taking the high ground
where I can find it.
It's longer than I remembered;
thick piney woods line either side
until the road forks
at the end.
I veer to the left
and creep to a stop,
surveying the landscape
To my left
reminisce of my grandmother's garden
a fence post here,
and a fence post there,
heavy with over growth.
Just to the no
Witching HourEyes entranced in the lustre of eternal nightfall;Witching Hour3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
passion of the Witch broods in forests dark'n wanton
Raven hair black as coal, bathes in winds hallowed
Arcane Moon beckons thirst of tongue
Flamed breath her blood song feasts stars & sky
Magick befalls in shadowy mists of spectral rain
Serpents rise like waves of liquid ivy,
as her soul wallows in the rapture of Winter's pain
O'er Earth and stone, ravenous streams bequest
twilight of dreams and sweet flesh
Enchanted in nocturnal fields, I lust evermore
Like velvet wine, the river ebbs and flows,
unto dark magick of her soul, shall be the lore
Arthur Crow © 2012
low Tlow T3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm too soft and rotten
sacred blood oaths,
or thresholds; a frozen inch of face
the same as light years, oceans,
i'd rather brush my mind with pills
and stick these artifacts of wealth
hard inside your origins
and keep the grass
One God of ManWe come from a sacred worldOne God of Man3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Where all that's hers is ours,
With blood and bone she yields
The fruit of a blooming flower.
In the days of infanthood
Rampant with hunger and fear,
A scent, a touch, a lullaby
Are our first lessons in love.
Her bosom is our salvation,
Her lap, the softest bed,
Her voice, the music of life,
Her lips, an ancient promise.
A mother's love never wavers
It rests with her child alone,
The days spent in her dainty arms
Makes a house, a home.
As maturity gently claims us
And whispers words of fancy,
Our love tardily diverges
And haunts interim hearts.
Yet, come early infatuation,
Fiance or pledged spouse,
A mother is the only woman
We love throughout our lives.
So soft nature's sole guardian
Forbearing the cursed and queer,
Woe on the wicked hellion
Were she to shed a tear.
Prophets and priests praise their Lord
In this journey from cradle to tomb,
Unknowing the one God of man
Who bore him from her womb.
Time WaitsWild geeseTime Waits3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
the grapefruit moon
To The One That Martyred HerThe Little Matchgirl to Hans Christian Andersen:To The One That Martyred Her3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You sent me a vision of
A feast I could not have
What is a word for
A god with no mercy?
I should have used my matches
To burn the city down
maybe she's too youngAstrid smelled of plums. It was a gentle scent, emanating wisps of invigorating pleasure.maybe she's too young3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She smelled glorious, mouthwatering, delicate. I couldn't resist such an aroma.
She looked so frail. She had skin stretched across her limbs in flimsy, translucent layers.
I was terrified of touching her, afraid she'd crumple beneath my fingers.
Her lithe, bird bone fingers caressed my blistered calluses. Astrid then pressed her icy
palms to my aching flesh. Silly girl, she was trying to comfort me.
It was wrong. I felt bloated, my chest inflated with conflict. Better judgment swelled
against my callous ribcage, uncaring and simply unconcerned.
And yeah it was wrong, but she was delicious.
how to become treasurei. figureheadinghow to become treasure3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my uncovered eyes
the possibility prime
as the sea's shine
sing me the designs
of isolated isles
for I plan
with a smile
ii. the expectant sextant
made to behold
and be held
I measured the distance
between where I was
and where you dwelled
when last the stars
the current seems
have I dexterity enough
for the course I plotted?
I caught wind
to previous havens
my ears caught the tune
of the sirens in bloom
and my tongue
cursed my stasis
iv. a love of ankles
in a foreign body
my lungs must drink
lest my chords speak
just the anchor
give my skin color
and my veins leak
could there be
a more foolish gold
v. how to become treasure
that your maps
(MMIII.)it's like those(MMIII.)2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
& hollow bones
from being robbed
of something beautiful:
no beasts lie among us,
only peasants of fire-red
& all the princes
-if only you could tell.
so when the sparks
& fingertips fumble
to grasp more than
i'll be alone
on an isle
with saccharine songs
& bottles of verse,
waiting for hoan
to come home.
An Aspie AnthemWeAn Aspie Anthem2 years ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
only a little differently.
Abyss(Cartridges in membranes singing leaden hymns to the body.) (Windchimes.)Abyss3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I walked down to the end of the street tonight, I mean where it really ends. I looked out at the end of the streetlamps and houselights into the void, and my teeth hurt my jaw was clenched so tightly.
(Cells in coffeegrounds singing metal tunes to paper cranes.) (Salt.)
I retched into the blackness, and the sound didn't echo, as I'd expected, but landed with a soft thud.
(Organisms in microwave components singing lullabys about being lost.)(Pipes.)
I remembered the words "If you stare into the abyss long enough, the abyss stares back at you." I dreamed that I saw you there, holding your hand out to me.
(Grating metal in gears soothe sweet whispers to the soul.) (Jump.)
3. LightIncandescent flickers of3. Light4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
behind the doors
that seal away
of Pandora's Box
KnowledgeIn a fever dream, black dooms descendingKnowledge3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
He lies rapt in stupor.
The windows tilt from his halo, the dry
heat ticking, each death rattle measures light into
reflections- form a periscope. One eye is all
that is needed to see. People
stutter along streets, gloom draped. Voices
soften and stretch, heard through memory and dreaming-
one hundred shadowy watchers meld to tarmac. Only one enters.
Yard lights convulse, scald twilit moments, birds
settling on flares. He blinks,
old as time- skin a coral of waxes, leather from his own glow. Eyes,
molten yolks still glimmer beneath lids, fat sunken. She watches,
notes of orange blossom form
a noose: all her palettes collide. She mothers
all earth- cannot . A beginning with no end, future, past.
Roots run transatlantic, languages bud- tiredness. Immortal,
he doesn't breathe.
He wakes to light dappled through glass and birch.
He was the oldest and the first,
his house heavy with rotting decades. TV
translated static into prayers, sun-blea
Send Me the Raintoday, they're all talking about the fires.Send Me the Rain3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the people on TV, the voices on the radio,
the mouths that open and whisper
and softly touch tongues. even the sky is
revealing black plumes of smoke,
flaunting shameless and seductive curves.
the rain's been too dry and the lightning
isn't wet enough, panic is
rising out of control in this
burning city. that's
we have a crisis on
our hands- the balloons are
running out of air and even
the experts don't really know why,
and on top of those sinking rubber toys
my soul is losing moisture
faster than the crackling grass under the duress of flame.
i'm starting to see the subtle luscious contours
i might not exactly be news-worthy
but if i catch, then
the forest might too.
i'm considered a reasonable loss, however.
they heard it might storm tomorrow. and everybody knows
that means they'll be safe-
because they all talk about it.
it almost stormed-
the sky spat and then
thought better of it,
It starts with a flash-bang and a Majulahi.It starts with a flash-bang and a Majulah3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
June's hauled her here again and
she's tapping at my classroom window,
A gazillion tiny fingers rapping in succession
(When she said "invitation" I didn't realise she meant
soaking half the country, the spike in umbrella prices has
nothing to do with me)
What's worse than an impatient child
is one with the whole atmosphere as her battering ram
when she tries to say something the urgency brims over
and one million exclamation marks
is beginning to sound like static frazzling
out on the pavements
She is without choice: when Cloud mother tips her out
she must go, and go she will
caught in an obtuse cycle, fought over by heat and
gravity wanting to claim her as territory
thrown about in their wiggly intersections she
falls, rises, and falls again.
Her talent is splitting herself up,
a single place, and then everywhere at once.
She has mastered the skill to the point
that she is a fractal in the air
even before she hits the ground.
She is a cell in a body 66 percent water.
She is a s
Just a BoyMommy look at me!Just a Boy3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Look what I can do!
through hollowed eyes,
it's going well.
He's just a boy,
he doesn't understand
it's all so unimportant.
Mommy look at me!
Look at what I've done!
and "cool," with a grin,
and he's contented with that,
he'll just be on his way.
He's just a boy,
he doesn't understand,
it's all so unimpressive.
Mom look at me!
Look at what I am!
it can't be so,
this isn't what she raised.
This isn't something raised.
He's just a boy,
he doesn't understand,
it's all so unsupported.
Mom look at me!
Listen to my words!
and strangely, still
a war to be won.
He's just a boy,
he doesn't understand,
how to break a heart.
ContentOutside, the worldContent2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
articulates itself. Clean as a tooth.
My cat, my old man of a cat,
now spends his days
hunched by the open window.
This too is articulation. He will do it
until the day he doesn’t.
It’s an old hurt, curling up.
Everything utters itself in and out of being
almost too quickly to love.
Always, I move deeper into myself,
the most quiet of lakes.
This too is articulation.
And the land blooms up and falls away.
And the heart rises and stills.
It’s an old hurt, curling up.
earth circuitAnd when the sun sinks, the earth's skin crawls:earth circuit3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I wonder if this awkward creature would notice me the way I notice him.
He's so tragic at his throne
I stare after him longingly.
He never realizes that I'm the one
Who forever basks in his brilliant beams.
If only he knew how much brighter he could burn
He'd light up the universe.
I heard him speak of thirst, once.
The quenching lust of the stars had run dry.
So that night, I brought along a jar of acid.
(And how it gleamed in his glow).
I handed it to him, wrapped in taffeta ribbons,
I wish curdling joy
On my gurgling boy
I love his eyes, now
Clouded white like milk from a poisoned tree
And his throat,
Swollen and clotted
And his lips blue as the
I try to get him to laugh but
His body is stuck and
Suicide On Your LipsI tried so hard to pull awaySuicide On Your Lips3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
At the end of the night when we kissed
But as you begged me once again to stay
I could taste suicide on your lips
And such an intoxicating fragrance
Far removed from the stench of death
Such a beautiful perfume of life
Of a lost girl hollow from neglect
Am I too late to save her my Lord
Will those lips ever smile again
When razorblade remedies are scarring
Her beautiful porcelain skin
You spoke of your sorrows till midnight
Then you slept in my arms until dawn
Awoke and cried tears until midday
For your past and your present you mourned
And when the last tear finally fell
I explained I'd never leave your side
Heartfelt words alone wouldn't do
I painted our future with pride
Together we created a masterpiece
A magnum opus beyond compare
I now kiss those lips on a basis daily
The taste of suicide is no longer there