Boats and Burns.I have forgotten or never knew
the pulse of a love that stretches across oceans.
or never knew
So long ago now,
though visions of that churning shore still leave tender bedrock exposed
beneath the pulsing folds of cardiovascular muscle --
as if in his wake the Earth spoke in tremors
instead of in turns taken through the void...
It isn't fear that stays the shaking hand,
not time that keeps the frenzied beating in check, no,
just the jagged gravel of memory left in ashy knees all those years ago
when we swore to bury what pain we knew,
what suffering we forewent
to undergo a change of heart.
I used to dig at the pieces when things got too quiet,
would try to expedite their natural expulsion from those raised, white, bulbous scars...
I waited years for the ache to subside, but even now
the rattling of
newly liberated rock fragments
against the walls
of the dryer
the laundry room.
So I have not forgotten the wide expanse of the Atlantic,
the bitter chill of th
Might As Well Be LyingBehind your best intentions,Might As Well Be Lying4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
behind the words dragged unwillingly out of your lips,
behind your "dearest" your "sweetie" and your "care,"
you're still cold.
And I'm still not sorry.
When a Man Leaves a WomanWhen a man leaves a womanWhen a Man Leaves a Woman2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he takes all of his suitcases with him;
When you leave me
they will lie open on the bed
Triple AcheLove is a perverted thing that has no place in my daily routine.Triple Ache4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
You stab, you cut, you yell, you hurt,
and somehow we persist
and in some sick and twisted way the ones you fight against become the ones that support you
and the one thats supposed to support you calls you a slut and casts you down,
three years of cleanliness voided...
Just like it used to be:
not to prove a point,
but to make you sorry.
Sorry for something you'll never see.
Rim.I am hereRim.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because I do not know how not to be here.
I am a clock that never got wound up all the way.
A battery, always running low.
Something is definitely wrong.
Down, But Not OutFeel free to forgetDown, But Not Out3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that which festers in places only reachable by trespass.
There is so little point to counting your blessings
when in dreaming you revel in things that have passed beyond resurrection
and into personal history.
And they have always loved "that story";
Even in a drunken stuper she remembers.
And in sleep...
beneath the turbid waters of a dark ocean the wounds are as fresh --
as tender and as bloodied --
as they were before the salt,
five years buried...
I wonder all the time if you remember it like I do.
Fondly, if with thorns.
But I miss that touch.
I miss the violence
of your selective intimacy.
You were so patient when I was constantly chewing bitter roots
that resolved themselves to contact that you only gently discouraged,
never a harsh word traded in the summer darkness.
It's been years since you've been home.
And you can't lie anymore, can't cover up what I know has been
the reason for your absence...
You were a different person here.
A boy with changing eyes a
Something Borrowed...For months my mind's been painting wastelands.Something Borrowed...4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Before, I wasn't quite sure why I was experiencing this strange resurgence
of my twisted obsession with death and the end of all things.
But it seems, now, I've come to the end of myself:
to the precipice where behind lies what I knew
and below lies what i cannot fathom.
Somewhere, I've forgotten specifics by now, but somewhere I lost something.
I pace the ledge and toss my head like an animal waiting for the storm.
I cannot remember...I cannot begin to remember...
Or will not.
I look up
...in my eye
The Orchard.All we know about ourselves is that we'll never know enough.The Orchard.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Words ripen and fall into our open hands but stay within clenched fists,
too frightening to be released.
What distance doesn't kill, time can't help explain.
Why chase a wraith across the desert to happiness?
I've grown tired of these pervasive winters,
seasons spent without harvest or in careful attention, only to pluck anguish from the branches.
So i've decided to do away with irrigation, with condensed dreams and tunnel vision:
Realism to replace ignorance, ignorance to feed hope,I think...
I think I love you.
Karma.The truth isKarma.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I have hoarded your words.
Made haphazard stacks on on the stairs,
on the grand piano
so I would not forget as well
or as thoroughly
as you have.
For now, new beds play host to the faded pages
of a notebook, the one I used to write letters to you
that I never sent, that spent so many years under the pillows.
Washed in the laundry, the ink leaves black stains on white sheets,
determined to exist,
There are ghosts beyond the shadow of the fabric.
In that place where poetry comes from,
they're counting the threads of our histories.
They intersected, I know they did:
You read it.
I wrote it down.
Flames lick the edges of the bound volume.
than leather --
But you knew that.
It burns faster.
I suppose you knew that too.
Forgetfulness.It's been so long that soon we will forget the taste and the sensation.Forgetfulness.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
They will tell is this is for the best, because every time will feel like the first time.
Hardly becomes never faster than you think.
Quitter.While I was awayQuitter.4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
you packed the house with C-4
and ran away with ears covered.
with the accidental drop of a match
("should I ask to remain friends or no :/")
I'm watching it burn up
A Return To NumbnessThe dead do not feel pain.A Return To Numbness2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the anesthetized youth,
stand rotting in the shelter of the houses we were born into;
among the dismantled shingles of our parents' roofs;
in the garage with half a dozen keyed cars,
a hundred thousand paper bills soaked in tears and gasoline.
If I could want,
I'd light a match.
But the rhythm --
The incessant pounding of fists against brick,
the clang of chains and steel against metal bars --
keeps even the heat
from changing my mind.
the dead --
do not choose the path their feet are set upon.
And I --
also dead? --
cannot be moved enough to tell them my alternate direction.
No -- cannot speak,
cannot even draw blood in the name of pain or fear,
And there again,
the call of the cage.
The strain of chains,
the pervasive heat of that parasitic promise of rest
and a life that isn't mine:
a life of white;
of endless, artless space.
Or black oblivion.
to end my silence.
I fill for a moment,
feeling the edges
Defiant.I can't write it hereDefiant.4 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
for fear of being chastised
but it still exists.
Make The Bed.Beds get bigger in the absence of words.Make The Bed.3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Things we thought we understood become jumbled.
Suddenly, the world is out of focus.
Remove the padding.
Deconstruct on a chemical level.
Love is --
Far above the highway,
gunpowder combusts and rains down on familiar ground.
I try to forget what we left tucked between the hills,
what we buried in the pine needles behind his house.
You blend together:
innumerable saturdays wrapped in the heat and the dark
where breath escaped between rupturing larynges;
an unfinished, unplanned, uncertain six hour road trip to rapture that lies dormant,
somewhere north of here in hay bales,
or hidden in the mountains.
Silence defines nothing.
and fill the mattress.
and let me forget.
Her Notes I look now at words scribbled in old-fashioned number two pencil in the margins of the only physical thing of hers that I will ever have. I know it wasn't mechanical because of the way the edge of the lines blur and smudge, and her cursive isn't razor thin, never was. The curves arch gently together and stop. And then I wonder how long ago it was that she studied this same thing, this thing that I will probably never finish.Her Notes4 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Her notes these are the things I am left with. The only piece of her that I can touch and taste and see. I have little pocket-sized notebooks half full of them, (We always seemed to lose them before we could finish one, but they all turned up again, somehow) always in a different color, and always in a different pen. Minor scales, arpeggio in the key of A. I remember that year I played Malegueña for the recital and couldn't remember t
Reverse PilgrimageNoise,Reverse Pilgrimage3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the unraveling tourniquet of anti- feeling.
Your skin was a dryer sheet and
I have long paid for smugly
forgetting to look both ways
before crossing you.
In one hour I will be that much older.
Eventually, this won't be true.
We dared each other to race trains. I don't
know whose tears cascaded from your eyes.
Bull shit rain.
This brand of bitter is hard to conjure
System of a Down playing at your open house. I still smelled like
graduation day. Your brother was using a turtle
as a soccer ball.
I was the bad guy for breaking his nose.
Never a hero.
Today I came close to burning down a church.
Signs of things to come.
TruePainTrue pain is mising you when you're inches away.TruePain6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'm hyper aware of every move you make,
down and back to your ever slowing breathing.
Suddenly everything makes sense:
I'm listening for the heart beat I'll never hear again,
waiting for the warmth that I'll never feel again,
searching for the love that will never be real again...
This is a place we've never been before.
I can't shake the feeling that every day we're becoming strangers.
With every sordid story, I know you less and less.
This is what distance does to people,
and time is only making it harder.
It seems I finally found something that hurts more than losing you:
Feeling you gone is ripping me to pieces.
Your finger traces a line across my ankle and I snap back to the here and now.
My heart explodes into a rib bruising sprint,
pupils dialate and I'm forgetting to breathe.
"Hey," you whisper, "Look at this..."
My hope evaporates in the light of that little blue LCD screen.
Who ever she is, she'll be a lucky girl.
I force a chu
I Had To Put The Book DownYou tell yourself a story that you've sleepwalked a thousand times, and somehow the words never come out the way you dreamt them. The words "I love you" turn sour in the mouth of a man with the wrong face. For some reason you can never hear "you're so beautiful" enough. But even in the throes of your delivery you know you're a liar: things get in the way, like significant others and your own body image. And you realize through the course of your narration that you are a sick child, slow and languid of action,because if you weren't you wouldn't be telling yourself this story, you'd be showing others the scrapbook...I Had To Put The Book Down4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
But why should I tell you
something you already know?
Things the Sun Will Never DryI liked you better whenThings the Sun Will Never Dry3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we were both lost
in the same storm
Me lost for words.
You lost for meaning.
We took smalls steps through puddles
That anyone else would jump over.
You loved how it used to rain.
You talked about it like religion.
My mind was always soggy
when I said goodnight to you.
Back then I worried that it would never dry.
Today, I smelled thunder and your
words leaked into my head.
This torrent separated us.
It's easy when you let go.
I've been searching for
the thing I once called fire because
some things never dry in the sun.
I will always be saturated by the storms
we will never watch together.
My DilemmaMaybe this wasnt what I plannedMy Dilemma7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Wasnt what I had in mind
You write your own future
You cant rewrite your past
I keep all your photographs in a box
Shut up and sealed with tape
Your letters line the walls of my room
I cant escape your words
Haunting, like the memory of your smile
The first time we met
Maybe this wasnt what I planned
Cant play with fire, toy with fate
Swap signs, I turned left at the crossroads
Should have taken a right
Lost and wandering clichéd paths
And so my heart stopped beating
When our eyes collided
You may not be exquisitely beautiful
But you were to me
Stare at me forever
Id love to see you when youre old
Never tire of that smile
Maybe this wasnt what I planned
The realisation hits so hard sometimes
All I can do is put my head in my knees
Suffocate in the dark
Until you pull me out again
Sometimes in the morning I pretend
Ill see you today
Youd pick me up again
Killing Fields-For HumanityKilling Fields3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's after the fact.
White tail deer-
Winter fields that
stretch an inch more
than tomorrow's pain.
And there's no way to know
just how far that really is.
(Thank you for that)
I've tried to walk across
the hard emptiness.
In the middle, there is a
column. It holds up the sky.
This is where the line is drawn.
I always stop there. Maybe it's
only a tree but I find myself
further troubled with every sunset.
Today I found a book filled with pictures and interviews of Cambodian land mine victims.
Men. Women. Children. People. Children.
The most beautiful woman I have ever seen only had half of her face.
A seven year old boy with no legs still tried to play soccer with the other kids.
I'm going to that field tonight.
I'm going to carve their names in that tree.
I'm going to keep walking until I'm not afraid.
The Real WorldYou dont believe in the real worldThe Real World8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And why should you?
Realitys for suckers
And Id much rather live in your world of make believe
Lets play hide and go seek with feelings
Turn on the soundtrack of my life
And well play musical chairs
Quickest to anger wins and strangely enough,
Sorrow will win you last place
Race me to the finish line
I fall into these dreams of you and I just cant seem to get out
Stars explode in front of my eyes
I cant see anything but you in these rainbow tinted nightmares
Throw me a lifeline
I want out of this perfect way of life
Youre dancing with pixies and laughing at sunshine
You cant tell me you want me if you want nothing to do with me
You dont believe in the real world
nine things i missnine: i miss the way you smell, the way you used to kiss me goodnight and the way your unshaved stubble would feel against my six year old skin. i miss the excited misery of your presence, the way you loved me but made me cry.nine things i miss5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
eight: i miss the way i'd lay in the dark, not quite sleeping, just so i could listen to you and mum talk. and then when she left, the way you'd fiddle with the strings on your guitar as if the notes somehow filled the empty space that hangs in the air where her sullen voice used to linger.
seven: i miss the way the wet grass used to feel between my toes and the way our neighbor's cinnamon doughnuts used to taste so much better when i ate them staring at the sky on top of my tree house. i was only eight, but i knew there was something special about everything back then and i miss that hope, that security.
six: i miss his house, the one with the fig tree and the hill in the back yard. the one with the old washing line that we'd all hang off as he'd push us around
empty - collabshe thinksempty - collab5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
one day the wishes will crawl all over her bed
and creep down the curls of her hair,
all the little thoughts that tumble around in her mind
maybe if she pulls petals off enough flowers
or maybe if she replays the scenes over in her head for long enough,
when she asks him why he loves her, he'll answer with something poetic that'll make her heart race
(because it's hard to paint about something when all they do is smile and kiss your fingers)
while her paints dry on a chaotic pallet
and she stares at an empty canvas, she thinks
maybe if she goes through the whole stupid lovesmelovesmenot game
one more time, picks out the right question, he'll tell her
something that will set her cheeks on fire.
staring at her ceiling, she counts the seconds until she sees his apricot eyes next
she plans it in her mind with closed eyes and steady breaths;
she'll run towards him and wrap her legs around his skinny waist
and he'll whisper in her ear that he loves her more than anything in the wo
The Hottest 30 DaysThe traffic never bothered him until he had nowhere to go.The Hottest 30 Days3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It took two hours to get across town and he forgot the applications.
There wasn't snow on the ground, so he pulled over
and parked in a tow away zone. He walked around
the center of that city and thought about his father standing in line
with him at the Hartford shopping mall twenty seven years earlier
in the town where he grew up.
It's Christmas time and all of the other children are
pissing themselves with anticipation.
Over the scent of plastic evergreens and candy canes,
his father still smells like motor oil and top shelf bourbon.
The closer he gets to the obese man in the red coat,
the more he shakes with fear. Tears well up in his eyes.
Right before it's his turn, his dad pulls him out of line and
they walk quietly back to the car.
His dad doesn't turn the heat on or bother looking in the rearview mirror;
"Don't make me leave w