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Haiku: GoneThe moonbreath exhales,Haiku: Gone5 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Skypaint blurs the horizon,
Stars go out. You're gone.
caring for p(o)etsscribbling down vicious verses oncaring for p(o)ets5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
tissue napkins while seated at
the corner of a sidewalk cafe is
about as romantic, raw and
honest a p(o)et
-outside of the four corners of your bedpost-
can get
if you've got that person dreading over
drafts and dreams on end
-of you, for you-
consider yourself a new owner
it is now time to
tame this p(o)et's perverse mane
you've got your hands on
a fragile purebred
which can be very tricky for
first timers
beneficent I am a good person. I volunteer at soup kitchensbeneficent1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and take in stray animals. Sometimes, I go outside
to feed the birds.
The parks are nice.
Once, there was a bird with broken wings and
I wondered whether I should feed it or kill it
to spare it the misery.
What did I do?
I am a good person. I don't remember. Perhaps
I did both.
friendship clinicfriendship clinic2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
looks like i'm falling back to being the therapist again, doesn't it?
unintentionally retracing my steps to the white tile floors which have been counted by patients far too many times.
to the desk where i hated sitting at for so long.
[minus the pay but especially minus the satisfaction]
i'm here for the moments you can't take it anymore
for the moments when you want me to piece together your mind until it's all 90 degree angles and straight lines.
for the moments you ask me to repair the damage those invading badgers did to your heart.
for the moments when using duct tape to stop your circulation doesn't seem like it's such a bad i
journey of an astronaut.On a lined piece of paper, an astronaut soars over blue parallels into the depths of space, headed for a distant moon somewhere behind the stars. A comet passes by along the way, glittering in greyscale and a friendly alien perched on top offers a warm wave. Welcome to my corner of the universe, I hope you are headed somewhere nice. The astronaut points in the direction his ship is headed and waves before speeding up, to be as fast as the light of a nearby sun is.journey of an astronaut.4 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
The mission is cut short by a thick wooden ruler slamming down on the piece of paper, now a puzzle of pencil lines, doodles of the stars and a few erased mistakes. It was undec
It starts with a flash-bang and a Majulahi.It starts with a flash-bang and a Majulah10 months 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
ii.
She is without choice: when Cloud mother tips her out
she must go, and go she will
caught in an obtuse cycle, fought over
i am my own twinin each rainbow gasoline street puddle, in each broken glass window and aperture, i search for myself. what it is exactly that i am searching for i can never tell. all i know is that i know nothing of anyone, not even of myself.i am my own twin11 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
i walk the streets and avenues as if i've been here before but not. i peer across the smog-smitten skies, trying to find familiar shadows to remind of home--yet no faces come to mind. as i follow the trail of a limping dog, i see how she is a crippled bitch feeding her pups nonetheless: i digress. i pursue a pink tricycle and her pretty pint-sized owner; she leads me out of the smoggy central station and into suburba
Cookerymy blender does not understandCookery9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
smoothies
"Accept My Gift of Pineapple
Thou Foul Beast!"
this is a blood sacrifice
and she is sadly unreceptive
I begin the main course
I have cupboards full of words
See-Jane-Runs
quick brown foxes
I have half a mind (no, three-fourths of a mind)
to sauté them
into
the golden eggs
more difficult to crack
than I had thought they would be
(forge? My stove doesn't get
hot enough,
I think)
I will spice the adjectives with
madness
I will verb these nouns
throw in a voodoo doll or
tulips! Two! Lips!
Crack open a maraca
and sell you some rhythm
Oh you will love this
you will devour th
A Testament To ItselfI. The Ash-Laden Skies of Yesterday…A Testament To Itself5 months ago in Emotional More Like This
If you’ve never experienced depression, you could never understand what it’s like to rot from the inside out. Last year, I learned. I learned that being burned, stabbed and bitten is nothing compared to the sensation of having your legs snapped off at the knee as you’re trying to stand. I learned there’s no feeling quite like having the world dangled before you on a string as you run, hounded by the nagging voices in the void of your thoughts. Or running as the ground gives way beneath you and the spark in your lungs sets your tears aflame. Or screaming for help even as the walls
smoking meditationlight upsmoking meditation5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the nicotine hearth.
hold it like a prayer.
balanced between fingers, is
suicide burning
warms you deep,
the smoke jacket
covering once pink,
naïve lungs
from which now comes a cough
clawing up a blistered throat;
a deafening interruption
bursting black
inside a star numb night;
in a life wholly uneventful,
the tracing wisps captivate -
these soft, pale reminders
of a soul slipping out.
pyrite girlNote: Pretty please listen to the audio version for the full effect.pyrite girl9 months ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
you noticed things
little things that came sneaking slyly in
smiling crooked like good children
with bad deeds freshly done.
of course you loved her all the same,
your little lighthouse among the tendrils of east coast fog
she tasted like mineral water
concrete
new pennies
and you lived in soft, sweet depression
intertwined
gazing out at a broken world from a tenth-story window
and breathing in the cigarette smoke.
your little pyrite girl
bright eyed and dark mouthed
a tiny dirty moon, dragged through the gray city snowmelt
and left to dry in the glare of rooftop suns
"who would live here?"--
musings from the tenth floor
and you knew the answer.
broken cities feed on broken souls
and even they need angels.
the secret of lost thingsan old book isthe secret of lost things9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
something like a dead grandmother;
silent everywhere but in your mind
VocalizeMy paper tongueVocalize2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
will disintegrate
from the bite-bidden gall
of my trapped thoughts
like clip-winged hawks
in a cage: double trapped
by injury
and bars.
Thick-headed,
brain pounding
underneath layers
of unbidden tar
in my windpipe.
It begins
to fossilize,
bones only,
soft tissue gone --
no eyes.
But I do not choke.
I sing.
I lost youAn impressionI lost you10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
is all that remains
of where you once were,
sheets the same
as you left them
as I haven't slept
since you left me.
I pray to a god
that I don't believe in
for you to return,
but you will never
be in my bed
or in my arms again.
Tears roll down
and they coalesce
with all the rest
as we watch
you being lowered
and I realize
that the hole
is your bed now
and the silk
is where your
impression will lie
without me
until I find the courage
to join you
in the dark.
Summer wine.Red lips;Summer wine.5 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you sit beside me and
prompt in jest.
I love you.
MuseMy muse is a shadowMuse5 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
licking at my heels, curled up
in the back of my mind.
expansionmy life fattens like a pupil in the darkexpansion2 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
like a bloom on the tips of a fusillade.
i foil its collapse at 10 in the morning
with an omelette and some gravity.
what i have done with your miracle?
the giant gray moth
comatose in the garage
is waiting for a sign, for fluorescence.
when light does come
it flourishes
it is home
it is god
it is flight
and she flies
and i’m looking for wire cutters
in a chest full of stars.
page onethe waves are calling.page one4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
watch--stormbound, the breakers
arch up to clutch at the unyielding stones
with a roar and a hiss and a sigh;
gather themselves back and
reach--and wait
and wait.
the sea is patient, and your limestone fear
will erode.
you will be
hollow.
a vessel.
you will be beautiful.
the waves are calling.
listen.
i ammissing the days wheni am1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
you used to read my
poetry
and wondering,
shaking in my boots, if
you'd ever figure it out -
how everything i wrote
was consistently about you,
your name scribbled
in on the back
like a photograph
and hints to your secret
identity hidden in the
folds of the pages
how everything was true,
every last word that i
claimed was fiction
the gruesome lines
on which you commented,
worried,
is everything
okay?
i mean, this stuff
is
kind of depressing,
you know?
i am just
missing your
cold hands
and i don't
care how much
i have to burn
to get them back
Sta.sh
