...and so i gave you thisyou asked me for a poem....and so i gave you this2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes i fall in love with words
and wish that words
would fall for me.
you want a poem? how about the darkness of the morning
when the sun still rubs the night from his eyes,
the dew on the grass and how your feet jump from the itch.
how about the laughter of a creek or the roar of the ocean,
there, that's a poem.
you want a poem?
ask me about watermelon kisses
or how a blackberry whispers love to the backs of my teeth.
ask me how my lips know every curve of my knees
and my spine knows the unyielding wall,
ask me about sunsets and the giants who paint them,
who gave the frog his croak, and why,
why the ravens never seem to cackle
on those dark and maddening nights.
how about the way the muse and i do things
that make her a saint and i a sinner?
how about the soft hiss of my breath when my mouth falls open,
the crust that sleeps in my eyes until i scrape it away.
this too is a poem.
you asked for a poem?
the way honey drips off a spoon,
Mother of Mine"i have loved you plenty"Mother of Mine2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
she screamed as she slipped
away across the street, across the state,
across the country we spent hours loving,
sparklers in our hands and her lips by my ear.
"never forget where you come from."
well mom where i come from
they love you just enough to give you hope
and then they leave you
mom where i come from
hope is a curse because it keeps you from
cutting too deep at night,
it keeps the pills in the bottle and the
knife out of your veins,
sometimes the only thing that keeps you from
what you really want,
it's the only thing stronger than your need to
hurt, now tell me
how can you be okay with it when i scream
"let me die,"
how is it okay for me to hurt while
you hope that
whenif i make it through
i'll somehow still remember who you are
and that once upon a time
i loved you.
i remember where i came from.
a womb poisoned with fertility hormones and
reese's cups and hopes that this one
won't come ou
Read Any Good Books Lately?I saw you yesterdayRead Any Good Books Lately?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
For the first time...
In a long time.
I saw you from far away
And my heart
Did that thing
That they talk about in Disney movies.
Then when you came over
You smiled that smile
That makes me want to hate you
Because I know you can't be mine.
Not yet, anyway.
And when you hugged me
Like it was nothing
My dad's back was turned.
You didn't think anything of it
Because you didn't know
The clandestine conversations
That scared them and haunted me
From the last time I saw you.
But I made sure
His back was turned.
If it hadn't been,
I don't know what
I would've done.
Why did you risk it all?
But despite my father
And despite your father,
I want to plan a dream with you.
Let's plan a dream,
Much like you would plan
A road trip;
We are both well aware
Of the destination,
But the intricate back roads
That we will use
Are currently undefined.
The conversation won't lull,
It never does with you.
When we aren't singing those songs
That nobody pays at
with a whisperthis is how we rule the world,with a whisper3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the forgotten, lobotom-ised,
of a long lost dystopast.
not with a SHOUT,
we do not argue.
we do not even unsheath
we whisper in your children's ears
the memories of what should have been.
the life we all crave.
the death we all crave.
WE do not discriminate
our opinions onto others
pressing the side of the blade
down onto the flesh
all are bitten
with the fever of our belief.
this is how we rule the world,
we tell stories,
we incite a generation
with their own scar/r/ed lungs
with a whisper.
those burning nights in parisif paris is easy, then easythose burning nights in paris2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is the way i like my love.
there are souls folded into cafe corners,
there are lives we'd like to taste and try on.
(whose empty eyes? whose wrists are these?)
and they will beg of you
"oublie moi, chers amis."
and you will forget them.
paris is easy.
i have probed her underbelly,
felt the warm rumble of the coming rain, and
she has shown me her metropolitan drunkards,
stray cats and
women of the night:
the girls who slither through back doors,
(a feather lost floats softly,
kisses the ground and blows away.
"c'est la vie," she croaks,
and in her voice i hear diamonds,
wine bottles and a hundred
the wind that snakes between the legs of
the eiffel tower
has whispered wicked words to me,
she has teased the braille on my tongue and i
learned to read the love in a pain au chocolat, le foie gras,
le vin blanc.
i have learned that pastry chefs
are the worst kind of
paris has been my lover. i have traced
MutantHear me read itMutant3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I am a mutant.
| My skin does not sallow in the sun
and I do not blush jaundice through my cheeks.
| I do not have extra fingers, or toes -
although my spine;
it boasts an ironic vertebrae,
it is a long tally of the hearts I have broken
and when I straighten my spine the bones Pop out of place.
I am out of place.
| I do not have a super power,
I lack exceptionality in all but my ordinariness.
| there is a vengeful bacteria feasting -
on my shoulder places;
Dirty LaundryLoading up the washing machine, and my mind is sprawling around in several destinations far from this cramped room. I spritz my clothes- no, actually I drench them with that spray- the kind that's supposed to work miracles on any stain before the affect fabric even goes in the washer. This was my favorite shirt. My favorite shirt. I'm just not thinking today, am I?Dirty Laundry4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The cotton feels good on my fingers, even though I'm stuffing it roughly into the machine. And all the towels...I didn't learn it until I'd moved out, but Mom was right: washing towels and clothes in the same load led to an outright ungodly amount of lint stuck in everything. I pause. Do I really want to do two separate loads?
Yeah, why not? Water begins to fill up, and I'm dousing it with that lovely detergent that smells so good and pure.
I sit down opposite the machine and just stare at it for a while. It rumbles pleasantly, numbly, and my mind drifts. What a nice sound, surely one could just meditate with i
Carving Treesonce i spoke to the balding forest,Carving Trees2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
hushhushhush cried the wind and he
knifed through my jacket
like flames lick ice like
lovers find reasons to peel off clothes,
i stroked the branches
of the sycamore and
felt its long, smooth trunk and the letters
scraped dreamily in the bark, and
let someone else grow up with our regrets,
let our names stretch and bend
and remind us
that once upon a time we didn't cringe at
warm wet breath on the
backs of necks,
at least i was innocent as i
lumbered back and forth over frozen ground
like some lost and lonely stormcloud,
like some flame guttering before dying out,
at least i was as many cupfuls of insanity as i could swallow
before my stomach
tricked my brain tricked my heart into thinking
"this is all okay,
(and at least my name is not expanding
somewhere in a forest,
carved lazily into trees that
grow and grow in spite of
all their broken love.)
palsied branches and the forest and the moon
from the blazing pages...because you listenedfrom the blazing pages...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
at the tip of the stair,
the phonograph coughed its secrets
grew up thinking
that pretty women needed saved,
that apples were poisoned and
knights rode into sunsets without getting burned.
but the first one you held
taught you that
magic mirrors never tell them they're beautiful,
and you saw the spindle-scratches on her arms
(because princes have roaming hearts, and they
stay a little while and then
and the one you married wouldn't touch you
"i'm a golden egg, not a tiny pea,"
and you said it didn't matter
but she broke the beanstalk and sent you
and your daughter told you
"straw is straw, and
no matter how i spin it
i will still wear rags."
and when she kicked as you sized her for a
you thought that maybe
some are beyond your help.
then your son became a knight with sunset burns,
and you realized that death does not wear a cloak
because he is beautiful and so
untitledseducing the writeruntitled3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he'll seduce himself
if you're silent.
Baby Teeth Vina liques:Baby Teeth2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
every summer, when the door groans
open and shuts, unwillingly, in the fall
an abscess is opened, and closes
with uncomfortable contortions.
Carpe diem, just for the scraped white
on some teeth, like the wear
on this carpet, from fingers
as buttery as sin, or from the padded
footsteps of children, who
to injure; sixties décor
for fifties ambitions,
like blonde hair and sharp heels on the moon,
like the seer and the robotic mind-reader.
Solus ipse, for crowds
and background checks, for the
botox-preserved summer, for the challenge
Mea culpa, for the uninvited and
the untolerated, like sour soap for bacteria
on the breath, or a grab for unwanted organs:
appendix, tonsils, foreskin.
Destroyed by WarSomething is wrong.Destroyed by War4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Awoken and upright, gazing out the window.
Only to see a desolate city,
Or what is left of a city.
Glowing clouds ascend from the ashes.
All that resides now is a memory,
Screaming out, waiting to be visited.
We know not to go there.
I didn't know what happened,
How could I, a mere child?
A Glance down into the city shows men,
Not that you can tell what they are anymore.
Screams arise from the remains,
Children cry out in pain,
From what was done,
During the after-math.
Dark figures lurk in the shadows.
Watching, knowing of their appearance,
Rotted, diseased flesh is all they are now.
Destroyed by War
No-one speaks of it now,
But we all know the truth,
It has only just begun
A Green ReachThe farmland settles into me each timeA Green Reach3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the long road to things.
All my insides are shifting
to let the roots weave through. The sky
never seemed so close as when the short trees
ground themselves in your own fertile belly:
cloud friends, you are only a green reach
I came for the sky, but I'm learning to need
the farms, like learning coffee
in your milk and sugar. An accident, but the sky
is so good
that I have to have it all,
that I can't resist anything
it touches. Joy has her fists
in my hair and her breasts
against my back, and each time I laugh
I fall in love again
forever. I meant to root
here, to dig my fingers in,
but the sky found me first and shook me glad,
and now like a fat happy pot,
I am all soil. I grow.
sleep, as an elephant1.sleep, as an elephant3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
it is strange to see you
older and out of love with me
it is similarly strange to see me
younger and out of love with you.
i want to
throw my arms around your neck
thank you for
leading me to believe in love,
thank you for
showing me what the cock does
when it crows and summons the morning.
thank you for laying in my bed,
breathing my breath.
thank you for laying in my bed,
with your head on my breast
listening to the fluttering
bird in its nest.
thank you for staining my bed-
with your salt, it was blessed.
thank you for leaving my bed,
giving my dreams to its next.
thank you for, out of all the rest,
choosing me as the first, remembering
me with the best.
thank you for june,
and then june again.
thank you for december, and
thank you for the time
that helped me break my body in-
thank you for two ticks
on the wall of not-forever.
thank you for june to june to december.
in a few years,
when you are older still and i am
getting even younger, i want to take
loveYou are the sunlightlove3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I love to wake up to
And hope to always see
Every morning someday
You've grown a garden
Of love inside my soul
From the seeds of kisses
You planted on my skin
You truly are an angel
Walking among the devils
That inhabit this world
Driving us all to madness
You've made the lyrics
In all my favorite love songs
Come to life with each melody
We make on our own
Poets make the best liars. His black eyes were stars, andPoets make the best liars.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the c o n s t e l l a t i o n s in their depths
told me sad poetic stories of-
past lovers, grey mornings
DreamsWhat wonders the imagination can bringDreams3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With opened ear and untamed eye
Dreams that we shall toss and fling
And float about towards the sky
By luminous light of thought
Day and night will awaken newly
And become what you have sought
To find your most distant Thule
Never letting go of that which we cherish
The spirit of innocence and truth
Why without it, what would we but perish?
In the darkness of lost youth
Midnight DanceYour fingers slide in between mine,Midnight Dance3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Our hands perfectly entwined.
Your arm wraps tenderly around my waist,
As you whirl me around and we trace
imaginary patterns on the floor.
Everything about you I adore,
as my head lies gently on your shoulder,
And we dance a dance that is older
Than time itself.
Your scent engulfs my mind,
And brings with it memories so refined,
Filled with pure emotion,
To you I promise complete devotion.
My senses are drowned out,
So that there is no room for any doubt,
Past worries and fears I twirled
As I fell into another world.
Hope and love fill my heart
As we perfect this dying art.
My dreams fall into place,
Made real by the smile upon your face.
And as we dance,
Our minds filled with true romance,
I mirror your movements
As we step backwards and forwards
To the slow, steady rhythm inside our heads.
(c)loves and (c)loversi am no artist's muse,(c)loves and (c)lovers3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i am no ship's harbor
i am no hero's weaker heel,
i am no good earth's flower
i have never been your lover
nor have i ever kissed you,
- not even once
though i dream of you (c)love-scented,
with lips shaped like a lucky (c)lover's-
kissing you and to be kissed by you
i can never profess,
not even confess
even to myself
i stay standing, (b)raving the cold nights,
pretty much batty and bootless
the absence of you weighs metric tons on my
shivering nape, and
you dam(n) me with
you are my river's boulder,
and undefined border
If Earth Ceases to TurnWhen hell freezes and heaven burns,If Earth Ceases to Turn3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When mountains tumble and Earth ceases to turn,
Where will you stand?
When the oceans rise and wind roars,
When the walls tumble and each breath is war,
What will you do?
When madness descends and chaos reigns,
When the plight of man cannot remain,
How will you leave?
When the ground rolls and splits underfoot,
The forests and cities burn, covered with soot,
Will you run?
When screams can be heard under the falling sky
And the whole world looks out from dead-man’s eyes,
Who will you be?
these are the last things i'll say before i'm goneIf I had to give a name to what I'm feeling I would just call it disappearing. Because it's exactly like the way that you can know everything about someone one day and nothing the next. It's the quick death love has that leaves you wanting more or wanting it back in the best and worst of ways.these are the last things i'll say before i'm gone3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
If I had to explain I would say this feeling is something like standing outside of your door at four in the morning, even though I know I shouldn't be here, wearing the same wrinkled clothes I had on the day before, wanting nothing more than to beg to come home, but knowing better, because following the motions isn't really the best follow through.
I won't admit how much I miss you I can't, but I can tell you this.
The thing about disappearing is that it doesn't stop me from wanting to be completely impossible to forget. And maybe that's a bit of an anomaly, but I've never made much sense to begin with anyway.
And sure, we're all different in the same ways, but I want to be differen
bonesand i've realized that no museum will ever want my bones.bones3 years ago in Emotional More Like This
i would look sad and small, among the mastodons and sauropds, my frame wired up or maybe laid down under glass. and i would hope for a circlet of roses around my skull or a book of words plastered to my breast, but the curators would leave me plain and bare, a statement.
and the little girl who went there with her brother would wander while he roared at the tyrannosaurus rex remains and look to her mother when she found me, sad and small among the giants and the living.
momma, why's that lady with the dinosaurs?
and her mother would read the plaque and look at her daughter, trying not to frown. honey, the dinosaurs died because of ice and meteors. this girl, she died of sadness. i don't know why she's here.