belongbring me freud, jung, piaget, neitzsche, dostoevsky -
i want to understand
this troubled heart.
mine? perhaps, not - i didn't ask it, it didn't say;
the mind, too, is duly uncertain;
tethered to the heart, but not, perhaps, kept by it:
existence is not conclusive proof of anything proprietary.
maybe it belongs to no one.
i belong to no one.
la musica dulceheartbeats are psycho-la musica dulce2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
the ocean has swallowed
hay una guitarra bajo
mi almohada, y
sueño de música cuando
you came here with
city smoke in your lungs,
forgot to breathe.
monster"i feel like a monster" -monster2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
whispered secrets to a plastic Jesus;
pray for swift, holy justice.
no - Fate smiles. too easy.
swallow it down, let it
burn deep inside,
i tasted the fever on your lips
and it was metallic
burning quicksilver in your veins,
dripping off your tongue.
waited for it to consume you
like the monster
that it is.
"we're all monsters inside" -
broken revelations in the darkness;
the daylight was too bright
to see our sins by.
i drew the fire out with each kiss
and blew away the smoke:
guilt is like a glass hammer
beating against stone.
even phantoms, my lovemy love, there are things you should know about me:even phantoms, my love6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
instead of ribs, there is a birdcage in my chest
& locked inside is a sparrow that flutters its wings
against the bars every time you come around.
my blood is pumped by a metronome that
whispers your name with every practiced beat.
you told me that you like catching fireflies
so i trapped my soul in a mason jar for you
& i hope that you will keep it for years to come,
place it on a shelf where you can take it down
once in a while and blow the dust off the top
like a bottle of wine that you'll never open.
i wrote my love for you inside of a prayer
& the words knitted together to create bones
so i built myself on them one hallelujah at a time.
you described your eyes as the color of the sea
so i anchored myself in their blue-grey depths
and left my castle abandoned on the shore.
i am not a person anymore:
no, i am a collection of objects and ideas
that i have taken from you and used to
build myself into something comprehensible.
Orbiti think that if we were planets,Orbit7 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
we would orbit in parallel -
side by side, but never quite touching.
we're both of us broken,
we don't "get" affection.
outward displays of love and happiness
are too much: just beyond our
limited scopes of capability.
we're kindred spirits, but
broken souls are no good to anyone -
not even each other.
almost, but not quite.to the boy with ghost hands:almost, but not quite.10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
his hands are not like yours,
your teeth leave different scars.
love is a smoke made with the fume of sighs;
it only lasts a little while
where I end and you begin.
maybe you never belonged to me.
this will be the last piece I ever write about you.
to the boy with the butterfly tattoo:
you found love
in the bathroom sink,
borrowing the past
transition--ingi am -- transition:transition--ing2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
lingering here --
feelings i can't seem
let me burn,
light up the midday sky
driving in the middle
of the road
when i'm alone:
i'm told, defined:
getting -- sorted -- out.
i am -- transition:
leavingleaving is a can that youleaving1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
kick around in the street
because it's been a long day
& it makes you feel better.
some days you kick it
harder, longer than others,
& some days there just
aren't enough cans or streets.
but the thing about leaving
is that when the
street lights come on,
you always end up going home.
Mamawi.Mamaw10 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
i never noticed how delicate my grandmother's hands were;
they always seemed so strong to me. strumming her beloved
guitar, plucking out a tune on her banjo, dancing across
the keys of an organ, her hands came to life. watching them
shake as she struggled to lift her fingers to her cheek,
i couldn't believe how slender her fingers were.
i never noticed how small my grandmother's bones were
until i saw the skin hanging from them. she was always
a big woman; it was a shock to see her arm no bigger
than my own. when I was little, she would balance a
teacup on her belly and laugh, and never spill a drop.
then sings my soul, my savior, god, to thee
how great thou art, how great thou art
-- you are hymns on sunday morning:
and every other day of the week as well.
thinnerwhy are white womenthinner1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
stick thin in magazines
and on television,
where everyone can see?
i wish that i was a black woman
because even fat black women
are graceful and confident,
and if i was so thin
so skinny-thinny that my
collarbones were like wire hangers
and my ribs a xylophone
it would never be enough --
i would want to be
until i was
just ash and bone.
to an errant loveri have painted my loneliness white;to an errant lover2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
make no mistake.
it hides itself beneath my skin
and if i try very hard i do not see it.
only in the quiet moments.
you are a teacher
in the art of forgetting -
already i have forgotten
how to breathe.
air is as nothing.
you are in my blood.
i need to sleep to wake up but i can't.
you promised to return -
when? when? when?
i miss you.
i saw you today
and the words in my mouth
blew away with the leaves.
you whispered loving artifice
against my skin in the stillness -
"¿soy una puta, verdad?"
"sí, eres la puta más linda del mundo."
and i am yours beyond all doubt and reason;
only say that you will return.
i will wait here
so that you may seek me
if only in the quiet moments.
faces, spaces, placesallow me to exaggerate a memory or two:faces, spaces, places1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
when somebody says your name for the last time,
you let men lay on you
to keep the sleep away.
years go by like one day
here under the north star.
below the canopies,
lost wishes can be found.
cities sleep inside our heads;
a quiet sentinel.
the longer I lay here,
the most peculiar of places,
in the space where I can breathe,
I can't explain the feelings I get.
have I run too far to get home?
we are all astronauts in the dead of night.
when a poet's heart breaks,
an end is just another beginning.
dear mommadear momma,dear momma8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
do you remember the night I got so drunk and stoned
that I spent an hour just clutching the sides of the
trash can for dear life and whimpering for you to help me?
& you were so far gone yourself that all you could do was
watch me while you lit the bowl and took another hit.
that was how I felt the day you left my father
and I followed you out the road crying your name,
begging you to take me with you, not understanding.
& that was how I felt when I told you that I needed you
and you said "I know" and then just let it go at that.
you and ionce a chubby man with a moustache andyou and i8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
a wifebeater told me i looked like elisabeth taylor.
and then i threw up on his shoes and
he told me he'd changed his mind.
another man once told me "let's get together" but
he didn't tell me that together did not mean always.
i did not throw up on his shoes, but
i did trash his cherry red '69 corvette stingray.
later, a beautiful man with an Irish tongue and
súile neamhfhírinneach asked me to be his forever.
so being the fool i was played for, i said that i would,
only to realize he had not made the same promise.
this is not a story about any of these men.
or rather, it is, but not entirely, because
this is a story about many men and
it is also a story about you and i.
except that there is no 'you and i', there is only 'you' and 'i'
but i'm strangely okay with that because
i don't want to be i, i want to be I, and
i want you to be You, and not Them
and only then will our story have a happy ending.
ocean angelShe's a dancer; you can tell by the way she stands,ocean angel2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with her chin held high, slim shoulders thrown back.
You can see it in the way she runs; on the balls of her feet,
light as a dandelion seed, ready to fly far, far away.
She ties her hair back in a tight little knot at the nape
of her neck, but three little tendrils always manage
to escape and frame the delicate frame of her face.
The back of her leotard is covered in sand;
her leggings are pulled up to her knees.
She follows the coastline as though it is the long path home,
swaying with each swell and ebb of the tide.
Gravity is nothing and everything to her. She pauses
to examine the horizon for secrets, and is bathed
in golden light. Laughing, she twirls; faster, faster, and
faster still, until even the sun becomes dizzy and falls out
of orbit, and the moon is afraid to take its place.
Somewhere, on another planet, perhaps, a voice calls to her.
She stops spinning, but does not fall, and her eyes
shame the stars when she smiles. I
anamiaribs are seductive bones:anamia2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
misery invites strange bedfellows.
fingers trace ridged planes
beneath forgotten breasts.
flesh is passing, less is best -
beauty is only skin deep:
there is no room for fat.
hips and cheeks protrude sharp,
thrust forward in prominence
to be showcased; trophies.
push, grind, hold each other close -
lips, tongues, teeth, and bones.
together, we are alone
in miserable beauty.
temerity (noun)for nine years, you called my sisters and i names -temerity (noun)4 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
names like "hog", "piggy", and "oinker".
you berated and belittled us for our weight,
told us that no one would date fatties like us.
you told our mother, the woman you profess to love,
that she would look better if she would just
lose a couple of pounds; criticized her
until she developed a disorder, an obsession
that i feel every time i hug her fragile shoulders,
shoulders that were not meant to carry the burden of this.
you compared us endlessly to your own
flawless, rail-thin daughters, bullying them
into silence at the first syllable of protest.
it took nine years to come to this.
when you "teased" my baby sister tonight
in the middle of the chinese buffet for
how little food she had on her plate,
she stood up and looked straight at you
and your own gluttonous portions and said,
"because you taught me not to be fat."
as she walked away, you looked at our mother
and demanded to know if she was just going to let that go.
i held my
Fatheras I walk in my father's bones,Father9 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I reconstruct him [in]correctly.
I don't need to be a daughter
to a man I'll never know.
bulletdepression tastes like diet colabullet4 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
and cheap vodka at two a.m.
it reeks of stale cigarette smoke
and faded incense that doesn't
quite cover up the stench of vomit
lingering in the kitchen sink
it looks like your arm around
her shoulders and feels like a ball of
lead in the hollow of my throat
where your lips once touched
but most of all, depression sits like
a ton of unspoken words
on the tip of my tongue until it
spews from between unfeeling lips
if only the rest of me were as numb
AsphodelA beckoning:Asphodel7 months 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
i don't need to sell my soul laughing against frost,i don't need to sell my soul7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
stylish arsonists + I still
escaping from your lips
confessionalthey say sad girls change their hair colorconfessional1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and forgive their monsters.
i change my morals
and become one.
wrists that roarmama sayswrists that roar2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
pull down your sleeves
they'll see, they'll see
but no-one's even looking
i say mama
tigers are proud and strong
and tigers show their stripes
so today i'm a tiger
and who says
i can't be a tiger
when razors made me fierce
and secrets kept me lonely
i can't tiger-roar
when everything unsaid
ripped my throat raw
i made my stripes
with tiger-claws and tiger-teeth
so damned if i'm not a tiger
and damned if i won't roar
mama, i'm a tiger
mama, hear me roar
the elements that bind us togetherpoems, wounds, and dead birdsthe elements that bind us together1 year ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
made a memory of me.
you can't protect me from them;
i meet things which do not belong to this world.
sometimes there is a dark character in my dreams -
feels like the end.
take a breath
on a cold night.
little gypsy moth,
in every mind
are ghosts up in the attic.
i'd kill to be queen.