eyes lit like stars: section oneFlorence had been alive for sixty-three years.
All things created with intention, of course, are alive in their way; they have their essence of star-being, their little piece of a god, a part of an idea. If an artist is inspired, they are a deity in their chaos. With some skill, a vision, and a portion of determination, they infuse bits of themselves into their work.
The way a child draws her family, her pets, and the figures in her imagination, which makes her no less an artist than Picasso or Michelangelo. The only slight difference is that she uses crayons and printer paper, not a church ceiling and paints.
The man who made Florence was not a child; however, he was a rather young, rather creative son of a grave-maker. Or, as his father, Gordon Baker, preferred the term "Monumental Mason."
The fact remains that Gordon Baker made tombstones, and since his establishment, Baker's, was right across the street from a cemetery, business was just fine. As usual.
The cemetery itself was call
5/11/13He looked me in the eyes5/11/131 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and (seriously) told me
"You are a beautiful person and you are
more than good enough."
something so simple
has never made me kiss a boy
quite so hard
5/31/13 devastation/decay ain't enoughwe place stones over our corpses5/31/13 devastation/decay ain't enough1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
like eternal, rigid, hawk-eyed sentinels
but this is the test of eons
everyone/everything pursed in failure
because it is the rule of--I'm not sure--
bonds break like thready spider webs,
you dissolve with order,
cosmic force preserving briny dignity
feathers of wind of songbirds
will fall and erode into
pale dark forest-fire ash
little monotonous arrangements of ink
don't quite suffice to deliver
the laughably blatant message;
why bury our claws so fully, deeply
into crumbling columns and wordy promises
when we're sentenced to be buried
just like all else, a sequence of forget-me-nots,
(even the flowers rot away eventually)
damned chemical cocktails meant for the ground
Spirit breathround goes the circleSpirit breath1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
drawn unto the end of days
life begins anew
4/10/13someone4/10/132 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
set free a beautiful bird of
& left the lonely, empty cage
on the steps of a stranger's porch.
RelapseIt's better not to count themRelapse2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's better not to think
If you count, they win
And you lose everything
Reopen old ones
Stop the healing process
Tell yourself you're done
But you know you must confess
You lie and self destruct
You feel everything and nothing
You're slowly going numb
And all you want is the sting
So turn off your brain
Close your tired eyes
Embrace all the pain
And say your last good bye
40810If only you were soulless.408102 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If you were mindless, blind,
you and I could make a beautiful disaster.
The press would write of our brief affair;
they'd paint me (the woman in red) as pathetic.
They will not consider how I need your love
or how it pains me so deeply to throw myself at you.
I will not be remembered as a poet warrior.
I'll be the eternal survivor no more.
All who think of me will shake their bowed heads
and tearfully remark;
If only you were soulless.
If you were mindless, blind,
You wouldn't have been such a bloody disaster.
ErnestoAnd she returnsErnesto1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to wear your face,
that ragged claw of smallness,
that pride in principle,
that keeps you well.
You don't know
the doctor knows.
After three yearsIts the laughter -After three years2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
snatched between mornings,
or his blue, blue sheets
that is the yellow chalice, snickering
muffled love in the dimmed room
of his heartspace
that stitches a smile
in the nape of my neck,
trills good morning
that held the cheek, that joyful ghost
beside me, as I walk in the dark
morning of the street
The White ThingsNothing is as far away as a minute ago.The White Things2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
No matter how hard you row against the tide
we can never reach it, never return there.
It's hard to sleep in the light of my regrets
that creeps through curtain and barriers
to rot away and bleach all things white.
It's hard to sleep knowing that no distance
is as far away as sixty small seconds ago.
Immalleable, we rot, and things turn white.
Barkley and II used to give spare change to homeless guys when I saw them. Particularly if they didn't ask for it, because confrontation scared me and I didn't like people I didn't know speaking to me. It was my own little way of trying to apologise through actions to all those people who had asked for change and received nothing but a panicked squeak in reply.Barkley and I1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I never gave money to the ones with dogs though. I read somewhere that they drugged the dogs so they would lie down and look sick, and that way they got more money than those without dogs. It seemed like cruelty to me so I pretended not to see them.
I loved my dog, Barkley, a seven year old black lab who likes cuddles, water and playing fetch. He had lay by my side as the crippling depression had swept over my life in waves, and he had patiently waited for me when those tides subsided and I tried to find my own feet in the world.
I knew, with absolute certainty, that if I ever ended up on the streets I would give Barkley to a shelter. It wou
ShockwaveFoetalShockwave2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Trying to fold the pain up
To trap it between the paper cut limbs.
But the shockwaves come
Pulsing from inside
To trap it between the paper cut limbs.
Trying to fold the pain up.
i filled the sea with dirtThere is a melting of my hearti filled the sea with dirt1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
seeping into my veins
a sacrifice of my soul
burned with smut
into the kitchen floor
you crushed me into a million different pieces
and scattered me out like breadcrumbs
I live in a suitcase
of black and white
i'm walking on eggshells
to the end of times
it seems as though i'm on my own
& i clutch my suitcase
it seems i speak like water
all my words spill out
in a rush and they dry up
cause i'm a dried up sea
i crack up into pieces
and spread out in the wind
you weren't gazing
you didn't have eyes
you never saw
any of the times i cried
I filled the sea with dirt
to make me feel less lonely
Down ShiftThere is this weight on my chestDown Shift1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
A hand in my rib cage
Wrapped tightly around my heart
Leaving no room for my lungs to expand
Slowly, slowly I'm losing all my breath
My eyes are beginning to respond
Leaking water from some reserve in my soul
An endless supply of crystal clear drops
Warm and salty running down by gravity
There is a sickness in my gut
The need to vomit comes and goes when it wants
Like someone hit the eject button
But it got stuck and now it won't come up
My heart feels tight, claustrophobic in it's place
A tumble of razor wire wrapped around it tight
Piercing the vulnerable flesh beneath
Allowing warm, irony blood to seep out of its confines
My eyes don't know what to do
Because their only view is through cracked and dirty lenses
The edges of our world have become fuzzy
And below us, there is a hole in the ground
Like a gaping mouth, waiting to swallow us whole
Color Me EqualSo I don't know youColor Me Equal2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And you don't know me
We just met each other
But you tell me who I should be
So I don't wear the right clothes
I don't fit to the norm
I believe in what I want too
I don't fit to your designated form
You have a different back ground
And there are many stereotypes
I don't believe in your god
And I'm what they call white
Every one is different
We all deserve to be
Though we are the same underneath
We are humans who can be anything
Let me love who I love
And you can follow your own heart
I know we can't change everything today
But maybe today we can start
hvirfilbylurin the morning i throbhvirfilbylur2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
against a lilac bruise
from the ache i've
carried for you
what if i said i wake up and i look at you
and your skin has not blackened
from disuse, has not paled from
neglect and still
i find perfection in the way
your arms hang like
a willow and the
arch of your back
and the width of
your ribs like a
what if i said i loved you?
AutoPilotI want to hold your hand.AutoPilot2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Touch you but you flare up
until it burns.
I want to surround you.
Bring you into this life.
But I can't catch up
if you keep running.
You say that I'm not “With You”.
That I don't understand
or complete you.
My heart in shambles;
across the floor. Thrown.
You are what you put into this world.
Careless, ever so.
You react, long after
the initial blow.
Fingers; desperate and tight.
Trying to keep me together.
But my insides mixed with your truth
continue to pour out.
A leak in the dam.
My knees lock; I rock into you.
Everything always falls apart
because you let it.
Or maybe I'm not asking
the right questions.
And yet, all we needed
was the missing link.
The words you left out.
The ones most important.
What I really needed to hear
but never would.
You needed me but
But it doesn't hurt
I already knew.
Do You See?Replies of 'I see'Do You See?1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Make up for the
"I don't understand"
You say you see
But do you really?
Can you truly comprehend
What someone else has been through
In their bad times,
In their lowest of their lows
Can you see?
Can you see
That got them through it all?
Replies of "I see"
Become second-nature because
We cannot say
I Remember You, Every DayI will always remember the loveI Remember You, Every Day1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I will always remember the regret
I will always remember the pain
I enjoyed the love of one
That made me swing all sud'
Without warning, my heart yearning
For something I never knew
And wished that didn't end to blues
Of fire too blue
I remember the regret
Do not fret
I do not regret the meeting
All that is regretted
Is the pain I inflicted
The restrains we conflicted
The remains we washed away
Every day, ever wake
As I see couple's taste
From the buses
To the phones
To the stores and shows
They always give me pain
Not envy, but memory
Of what I wished to be
But I can never be happy
With how obsession and pain overruled
And that pain makes it ache harder
To the point that eyes water
And the mind pauses every walk
Every memory betrays the thought
The only thing that I ever regretted
Was the pain that I inflicted
I wished that I was a better man
Season of ChangeCrushing autumn leavesSeason of Change2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
under tender fingertips;
I reach for new life.
note 62i fell asleep besidenote 621 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
him, and around eleven
he woke up and said
where did the hunger
unlock from, why is it
i spent months watching
him come and leave with
"don't" i said
"stay" i said
and bent my arms
around him. "all
of a sudden you
love me again,"
and he stayed
for a little bit
writeI only come alivewrite1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
When the screen's in front of me
When a pen is gripped in my hand
And I lose
My body moves
To the beat of my mind
Fingers tapping a rhythm
I can't divine
Words come out of nowhere
To be placed with care
On this blank page.
My mind overflows
I rejoice in the sensation
Of losing who I am
In who I can be
Come to me
Words flow around
To be twisted and turned
Looked over and
Over and over again
I'm not searching for deep meaning
Not trying to convey a message
Beyond the words I write.
RedecoratingMore persistent thanRedecorating1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
an irremovable black marker,
you engraved your words of love
into my practical stone heart.
You decorated that barren place inside of me
with flowers made of
your honest words,
your boyish smile,
your warm touch,
and the colour of your affection.
So gentle feelings began
to grow inside of me,
cracking open my stone heart,
forming a tiny gap,
just big enough for you to slip in.
Coming up For AirTired hands coverComing up For Air1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
a face matted with sweat and
tears from decades lost.