hyperdontiasometimes it feels as ifhyperdontia3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have too many milk teeth,
too many parts of me that belong
to a time when I climbed trees to touch the sky
and I swam in sunflowers
and fireflies -
to a time I have long since
painted in sepia tones,
long since pushed
to the back of my mind
with hands so tired
of being filled with splinters
- too many seeds
and not enough light.
there are too many parts of me
that I have placed underneath pillows,
that I have kept behind closed lashes,
that I have slept upon, waiting
for the morning to arrive and them
to be g o n e ,
replaced with coins that I could place
underneath the tongues of the dreams
that I could not ferry to my
but in the morning, they return -
one by one into my mouth,
daring me to speak them,
daring me to sing,
daring me to find someone who will listen.
it feels as if
I have too many stories,
too many secrets,
too many sins and not enough space
for the words to fly out of my mouth
and into the world -
The Jailori.The Jailor3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the room smelled of paint and chocolate;
a stain that won’t wash out no matter how vigorously you grate,
no matter how deeply you peel.
“Mothers never cry when their boys run towards large army tanks, and fishermen never weep when they return home with nothing.” These were my forced whispers in her ear.
ticking antiques and wooden furnishing,
a land flowing with silk and money.
it was no consolation.
pain still trickled through.
I told her that I don’t kiss women on the mouth, and by day I left her to her own thoughts. That’s when she finally listened and stopped her crying.
i have sorely learned
that when love bleeds out of his emancipating violence,
the man becomes god.
She substituted her sobbing with writing. I planned to toss her diary into the crackling fire when she wasn’t looking.
i longed to run away on raw hands and feet
in dark blue jeans.
but instead i watched him
scar-crossed(my fingers are colder than the solemn bluescar-crossed3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
buried in her eyes. so much dead beauty,
like an ocean without waves).
she is fading and i cling to her,
and in this tiny little moment
we barely even exist.
WordsmithsHow long did you thinkWordsmiths3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we could pound our vocabulary with hammers
before it fell flat?
sick hydrangea and my bonesi bare my bones to the screeching moon.sick hydrangea and my bones3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
twenty-nine days, and i claw again.
take my flesh, take it, dye me maroon.
ribcage and spine: shadows soften too soon.
light, light, as i crawl through the glen.
i bare my bones to the screeching moon.
i gouge myself open to find the rune,
hacking, peeling, like do all wise men.
take my flesh, take it, dye me maroon.
pooling skin-folds, i want them scattered, strewn.
this skin's all bark and oozing holes when
i bare my bones to the screeching moon.
bubble, swell; i can hear the snakes croon.
beauty of being lies beneath the vein.
take my flesh, take it, dye me maroon.
crazed lust for hungered grace at night's high noon:
haunt me til all the blue months turn sane.
i bare my bones to the screeching moon;
take my flesh, take it, dye me maroon.
and zero is the biggestraspberry thorns piercing through membranesand zero is the biggest3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of adroit ballerinas with pointe shoes,
bones smashed against the wood;
they are mangled bodies of birds with suitcases tucked in their wings
phrases spilling from their lips:
(i might lose important papers)
scattered along with liquefied brains on the floor.
he was so afraid, that his immune system was having a seizure,
(its brain was falling apart [birds, birds, birds])
and they opened up the zeroth dimension
(you're the biggest zero out there)
infinity upon infinity, negatives, and ten.
among the scattered papers, she will dance with you again
Revenantthey came like phantoms;Revenant3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
oceanic whispers left me washed out.
those gossamer ghosts that lined
the doorways-- eyes in a constant
state of surprise as they reached for me:
needle fingers pricked, fueling
my addictions. they ached
for my veins, entangled like
the strings of my paper heart
and they stained my skin,
amethyst bruises in the shape
their breaths were the heavy hums
of a forgotten lullaby "one day you
will leave, and you will fade into a
virulent void, like us. you will warm
our icy bones, and we will love you,
like no one else can.
go back to sleep, little girl, we will
come again" with their cerulean
secrets painted on my arms,
they became the empty walls.
I wake up alone, and silence
falls. I only hear the echo of
my hungering heart.
aphroditeclambering lips tumble over each other likeaphrodite3 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
little deer stumbling into the headlights, where
blushing cupid's bows snap shut at the slightest
whisper of a touch; as summer's broken blossom
whistles into moss, suicidal and free-falling at a
twist of the wind, dripping through honeyed-hands and
trickling down wrists. words nuzzle breath, the air
staved of acoustics that choreograph faces closer; watching as
quivering eyes thrust new-born hope, where
restless hearts knock beneath a web of ribs,
screaming silently as bodies are poured into the
stitches of aphrodite's venomo(us) fly-trap.
another fix, pleasethat feeling of reliefanother fix, please3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in darkened days
with hollow eyes and broken gazes,
floods my skin like taut stares,
the key snapping blurry worlds
I dissolve, scars upon scars,
building tales of months
pain bleeding outside borders
only blissful addiction.
[ breathing monitored,
as watched as I am ]
confusion, hazy like counting
for that feeling in freedom,
perfection comes in blood
and agony, for searching
out hungry addiction.
out searching for agony
in comes perfection,
waiting for freedom in
for backwards counting like hazy
[ am I
as watched as
monitored breathing? ]
only borders outside bleeding
pain and forgotten
months of tales building
scars upon scars. dissolve.
I focus into worlds
key the uncomfortable stares,
taut like skin.
my floods &
RestlessI’ve been living in the same breathy dreamRestless3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
for too many days now; I’m bed-ridden and
stale and I reek of those moments that come
full throttle like a car crash on a winter night
this is evolution where weak hearts
are afraid of the shadows and where
an apologetic wind births no remorse;
he will move on—anchored ship
set sail, I am the sunken wreckage
that never learned how to swim.
he will move on, Darwin says
I never had a chance
I wish I were the textbook sadness,
symptom and solution and endurance
but I’ve spent too long sleeping on the
thoughts of shooting stars and gravity
and reasons, scientific calculations with
thrice-checked proofs for the skeptics
that don’t believe in the sleight of hand magic
reality wants to imply
I am not the insomniac writer with
better things to do than sleep; I am
the heavy bones afraid of what
lies in the darkness beneath
the skeletons of childhood monsters
starspunobserving the romanticismstarspun3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of hooded cemetery kids,
smoking cigarettes pretending
they are not dead.
you were always so sure
about my uncertainty,
all my pick up lines
we built the heat
of the evening from the solidity
that two teens at the park
is the stuff of teen novels
(cliches dim on
our leaf-gold horizon)
your eyes darted
from the gray expanse
of the churchyard & wandered
i wanted to ask you
if i could follow. shove
the words aside &
remember that i came here alone.
i remember our innocence
in the static b e t w e e n
about how youth without you is th-
awing out the lines in my whittled-out eyes.
look to the hooded
wonder what we'd have been like
if we grew up as nothings,
like them. teenage
nothings with chiseled
marble in our
out of our parents' adulterated
lies and the excitement of alcohol.
i settle for a star.
it's almost as luminous
as the after
Summers Lost god died today. or maybe it was tomorrow. i can't remember.Summers Lost3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to sewer lines:
like a wish
on a dead star.
the feeling of gritted teeth
and fingers crossed
until they break.
like a scalpel
and a brick wall
against my throat.
and i was
when i said,
swallowing cinder blocks;
stuffing steel under skin.
on my cheek,
like book pages:
"where have you been?"
Collection of poetic nothings.We were opal Tuesdays,Collection of poetic nothings.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
tattooed into the
rose garden curve
of my vertebrae,
gliding me through this wild youth.
But, like Icarus—
I was a sky conqueror
& these silk wings
touched the sun.
My inhalations are heavy,
like the earth he bruises
beneath his fingertips
as I chase silence.
"You've got a tongue
made for words." He says
against the arrogant thorns
of my briar spine.
"Learn to love yourself."
How do I say I love you
without saying I love you?
"I want to replace my heart with you."
You are spider silk woven
into my harvest moon
limbs traveling this road map
of songbird sin.
You are not just in my head now,
you are dancing in the lingering stars
of my night-witch frame
& setting me on fire.
You're not bruised enough
to write poetry.
Allow these bones to tell your story, Love.
AsphodelA beckoning:Asphodel2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
watercolour sky shrinking,
too late, teeth fall; pearls
from a broken string.
Blink and the moon ignites—
but the sheets are still
urban oceanThe wet roads are my urban ocean.urban ocean3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Some men see God in the break of foam--
I see God in the freeway.
I see God in the spray off the backs of eighteen-wheelers hauling consumer garbage to southern Maine
as I walk along the side with my boots soaked from puddles.
The sea reflects the sky and Route 2 reflects the sky
and the waves go shush, shush, and the cars go shush, shush
and the clouds roll over,
the clouds roll over.
The wet roads are my urban ocean.
Humanityi. CreatorHumanity3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Flicking through yellowed pages,
The crinkles smelling of dust and tears.
A human-induced God complex - authorial authority.
At parties, she hides behind her camera, just so
Someone gives her a smile once in a while.
Too bad she only sneaks candid photos.
Vindictive whispers cloy behind closed
Hands and hardened hearts. They vent.
An immunity to gossip; a cathartic release.
Peeping toms on laptop screens and
DVDs - it's only natural, apparently.
What is normal anyway?
fast-forward through the goodbyesthis is the beginning of the endfast-forward through the goodbyes3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
“i know you,” he says.
and he looks defeated, he looks sad, he looks like
he's a boy who may one day realize how much
he cares for you, so you cut him off and say,
“minus all the secrets i don’t tell anyone.”
“well, yeah, minus those.”
“then you don’t know me at all.”
and then you tell him,
i love you. but you don’t use those words
because those are taboo. are jinxed.
are knock on wood three times fast.
instead you press him in a hug and say,
i’m sorry, knowing he won’t understand
that this is the first time you ever cared for something
enough to try and fix it after you hurt it.
you hope he doesn’t ever realize what you’re saying
and his response will always be ‘what for?’ because
if he figures out he loves you nothing changes.
he’s just going to be in love with a corpse, a memory,
a pair of trigger happy hands,
Thirst of a Poetthe bards have bumblebees in their mouths,Thirst of a Poet4 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 a river upon my lips,
today is a new day andi am growing up out of mytoday is a new day and2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
bones and out of this skin and
this skin is growing roots down into
the core, the core of me
and myself and this skin
- oh, this skin
this skin is thicker than you will ever believe.
if you told me that you had sunflowers
sprouting from the corners of your
eyes then i'd have no choice but
to believe you. you are a child of the sun,
you have wheat growing under your
shoulder blades, you have been flecked
with a ginger paintbrush dipped in solar
rays, you are soft-lipped and you,
you are warm
i might be sunburnt but this organ is over
seventy kilometres deep and i can't feel
the touch of your uv arms underneath all
i don't want solace dripped over me like
tanning oil, not if i'm like this,
not if i'm different to how i was before
Hades and Persephone part 1HadesHades and Persephone part 17 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The lovely rose on the blossoming bush
the sweet song of the rosy nightingale
my beautiful Persephone
through the cover of night I watch you
dream of you
wish for you
But with the fear I ensue
How can you ever love me?
the symbol of darkness
my sweet sweet
I shall have you
horrible dreadful me
You shall be mine
and only mine
Persephone goddess of the spring
shall be with me
Hades god of the underworld
I took offMy day off.I took off3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I stand in sunlight
I can watch it being day.
The mud is soft and cool at home.
I'd bury well without a casket,
I’ll be a naked pill for earth.
I build a garden box from wood,
smash my thumb.
too late for lettuce.
I had a premonition
I would live like this.
No one will remember me.
I’ll forget by Tuesday.
- i remember going to the strand pale months ago-3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the moon milked mornings of early summer,
salty ocean smell and the taste of exertion dread.
rising sun at 6 a.m. reflected the sea into
cream swans of clouds that were all aflutter
circling the gulls as they tracked our catch.
you with red lips too vibrant for such a skinny face,
lips like fish blood and soggy tulips,
too red for a boy like you, seventeen
me too tall, shoulders too skinny to be thirty five, how they
questioned paternity. i always laughed.
we weren’t used to the sun
white skin and sharp hips; neither of us were seafaring men.
we burned bright bloody sunsets that matched my eyes.
far away a fisherman wrung a fish onto the deck
silver scales fell back into the sea,
dimes in a fountain scattered by a fool like me,
with money to spare, and lips want to be sealed.
brothers fight make up hate love;
“too much of a good thing,
summergirlNow read aloud over here. Do give it a listen, won't you?summergirl3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you are crowthroated and tumbling
through the aspen grove
hair on fire with sunrise, lungs
full of sky.
eyelashes like wildflowers
and every morning brings
a new spray of freckles
and a sharper curve to your collarbones.
the cornfields hold no shadows
for your lighthouse eyes
and there are no endings in that
ii. you have grown
autumn finds you with broken ankles
leaning on an oak branch
and watching the skies.
crow to sparrow--you are quiet.
summergirl, there is peace in silence,
fallen antlers in your hands.
you will come to mourn your deer.
keep them close.
iii. by winter you have paled,
and like the streams
your eyes have frosted over.
you feel the chill--
there is no need for sight.