MatterIt is only a matter of time
until the stone lays down with the sheep
Rested firmly above the holes
where our eyes used to be.
It is only a matter of matter
until epitaph and eulogy diminish to dust
becomes the eternal home,
not where our souls used to be.
It is only a matter of fact
that our words will become reductionist, redundant,
the world will forget
where our words used to be.
The White ThingsNothing is as far away as a minute ago.The White Things10 months 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.
The DescriptionHe drinks coffeeThe Description8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
its the art of seduction,
and quite honestly
when he does it
it might as well be.
You'll catch him
frowning into it
as he hastily scribbles
in a notebook
to make the world
El cambia a español
en la mitad del frase
and I don't think
he even realises.
He loves the world
that to be a part of it
leaves you feeling
He makes the world seem
to contain his love
and when he smiles,
because he reminds me
that there is hope
to be had.
For the world,
For people like us.
He is soil,
Salt of the earth,
of everything good
that will grow from
He is a ramshackled
waking up to
the realisation that
he is an innovator;
and that his passion
could change the world.
Cluck Thiswhen circadias begin to floatCluck This8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
upturned on a stagnated river
and you yourself are heart down
with your crest fallen about you
then look for the end in me.
when closing your eyes brings light
and the sun kisses carrion
with your heart clucking openly
about some misdeed, some old seed,
of misfortune from its past - then
then, look for the end in me.
BuriedUnder the paprika house,Buried10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
are the bones of my father
and nestled between rib
and reason, is our love.
For every boy I ever kissedi.For every boy I ever kissed6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you took my hand 'neath the magnolia
at a christmas dinner party I held.
your mouth was cold. so were my affections.
you were the first man to listen to me.
i let you listen to my heartbeat; but
when the day fell away, you bruised me deep.
you were my safe harbour, and i your storm
turning your misery to naught but air
but i squirmed away from your tongue, repulsed.
you were my cradle, when i couldn't sleep
you would hold me close and pray for something,
anything, to keep me safe. (it was you).
eleven months spent sleeping with my phone,
i still couldn't believe when you kissed me
even after midnight struck us again.
i don't miss those guitar-player fingers
you wrapped me 'round. i loved enough for you
until i realised you didn't love me.
we fell into our love by accident
and like one, there were some fatalities
when you said you loved me using her name.
opposites attract. i fell hard for you.
you kissed me in starlit castle ruins.
The Bone CollectorSometimes my breath catches in my throatThe Bone Collector9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the very stillness of an earth going
a thousand and three miles per hour
gets lodged there.
Sometimes these simple exchanges
leave me breathless, croaking on dust:
the unfiltered pigments of other people's skin
and blood and ash
but with my tarred lungs and itchy eyes
I sit and sift through charcoaled remains,
alphabetising them from c to c. I am lost
in a world charred brazen.
Many things I have loved have turned to ash.
Many people. I was naive enough to think
that there was some perfect nutritional truth
that could outlast hell-fire.
I claw through a world turned ashen
and know those dead embers collect in my cells
They are the harbingers of a truth
I do not want.
The skittish earth throws its skirts about again
to unsettle us all, and I am unsettled
Alone in the dirt, organising piles of bone-dust
he did not love, at all.
ConsummationHear me read it!Consummation5 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
In debris beside your house
there's the rotting stench of home,
where all the ghosts of lovers
and their broken chances go.
You smile at me, I shiver.
I taste your tongue on mine.
There's no dead for the sympathy
as you trespass bound'ry lines.
In the broken bulb of midnight
when the caskets rock to sleep
there beneath the soil bed
you lay me down, I weep.
You smile at me, I wonder
as you pin me underneath
if you know how I wish that I
were six feet more beneath.
In the soiled marital bed
where pigs and otters go to lie
you grunt your way to release
the only release I want, is to die.
United, We WriteHear me read itUnited, We Write10 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
0hgravity, if by some divine fortune you should decide that today is the day you will fail me, then let me soar through the ChemicalSkyline. Grant me a-lovely-anxiety that raises a storm InTheStarryNightSky for me to riseandbe above all else. Let me soar.
How I long to be the frail rider-on-the-storm and not a victim of the RoamingShadow, Rogue-Of-The-Night, that BlackVelvetNightmare of my nights and days. I long
Losing my BreathIt's 2amLosing my Breath8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and the calling birds
are hatching in my heart,
I feel it crack and they emerge.
Feel them drilling on my ribs,
the steady anxious thrum
of a flight risk
waiting to happen.
and I can't breathe,
memories of you
are nesting in my throat
I can't work around them.
It's cutting off the circulation,
and my frantic heart
tries to keep on.
and tears scratch their directions
into my cheeks,
they flounder and meander
and they erode.
My skin and soul is scraped down
layer by layer
and another day is heralded
by the angry flutterings in my chest.
I try to swallow my pride,
dam the tears
and crawl through the dark again.
Coughing up blood
and inhaling iron filings
(The remainder of
what used to be my life).
OIt permeates everythingO11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is the cells. It is the cell
in which I am rotting.
The sheen over my eye,
the flesh I rip from the side of my nail,
the teeth I grind it with.
The tears, blood and sweat.
It is below carbon and hydrogen,
embedded in the air I breathe.
It is sleeping under my fingernails,
It is the undeniable, genetic, atomic truth.
Oh, my oxygen permeates everything.
It is the cell.
Star-writHear me read it!Star-writ8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is nebulonic fate that we should dance
together in this burning bald ballroom
as the flames lick up the sepiatic walls
and drip curled paper down upon us.
It is our right to spin each other here
in the torrentous reign of flames and ash
as the chandelier, already hanging,
spits and sparks at us, trying to take us too;
and as everything we ever loved or cherished
in porcelain veneer or hand-crafted sycamore
crumbles to a close, still the thought remains-
that it is our star-writ fate to dance on.
Thy lips are warmOf all the words that mouth at loveThy lips are warm9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and soften it with tongue and tooth
None will ever justify this breakage.
Never will there be diction enough
To make a heart salve, or tears unwept.
There will never be a word of woe
That suits to the shape of the thing.
Though many mouths may speak
of love and all her many expressions
airs, graces and confabulations.
None will correlate the meaning truly
how I loved for him, and he not for me.
Rock BottomThey say a rolling stone gathers no moss,Rock Bottom1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
so when I shudder to a halt
The rocks in my feet continue to grind.
I feel the sand in my lungs
and the regretful mist silting in my heart
as the waves come back in
reaching eagerly for my legs, spooling, churning
over me. Rooted in my misery.
I know the rocks in my feet will help me drown.
Of Nuisance LeavesHear me read it!Of Nuisance Leaves10 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Leaves clutch their ropy fingers around the tree's limbs. The zesty leeches bloom, crack open overnight and slip silently up the nearest oak or maple. They pierce the crunch of bark and penetrate deep into the rubbery veins.
They feed. They pauperize plum and peach until they are heavy and brown; heavy laden with the stolen sap.
When at last they reach their fill the tree can finally shake them off emphatically, desperately, until at last it is clean again. The tree reaches its black bones to the sky in praise and as a new year begins vows never again to be the victim of leaves.
HAIKUWRIMOCOMPLETE 2013HAIKUWRIMO11 months ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
February 28th, 2013
A feeble whimper for help;
roar of these raw times.
February 27th, 2013
Gluttonous ash cloud
sucks the moon's blood
and swallows the night.
February 26th, 2013
Bark! An explosion!
Angry bodies escape the
network of lung cells.
February 25th, 2013
multiplying, honing in,
determined to kill.
February 24th, 2013
Tea and sympathy
for my dear sister.
February 23rd, 2013
I will hold my breath
as the north wind does the same
waiting for your love.
February 22nd, 2013
He hovers behind;
February 21st, 2013
A long slow curve,
your smile upon my shoulder,
a scar of your touch.
February 20th, 2013
Where do you go while I sleep?
To whom do you run?
February 19th, 2013
Whorls from fingers
Imprinted in the trees
Count their rings too.
February 18th, 2013
The DancerHear me read itThe Dancer10 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The night I met Jessie she was beautiful. She swayed to the almost intolerably loud music as if her bones were made of it. She was something unknown. I remember the sharp cut of her hair had run across her cheek, parallel to her carved-out cheekbone. It looked like a wig, I wanted to touch it. I wanted to touch her, and see if she felt like plastic. Who could ever believe that someone so perfect could be so real. I regret that. I regret doubting her reality.
Eventually she bought me a drink; she called it an Appleté but trapped in the pulsating fuchsia lights of the club it looked purple. It tasted like jealousy; sour and eye watering. When I told her this she laughed a little, apparently she'd heard that one before. I drank it anyway. I wanted to slot into my assigned role in her fantastical world.
We talked a little. She served other men drinks. The ones in the shadows could have been my reflection. It was confusing. The
BathAn untidy circle of golden peaksBath9 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
with shimmering gems tumbling down
that thrum through with shafts of sun.
How welcomed I feel when I see
the emerald shrug draped about
your fine matriarchal shoulders
reaching out to draw me close.
The sapphiric glint in your eye,
you invite me in and give me shelter.
All through your house you're present
every corner shines antique brass
and the small blemishes I see
only endear you to me further.
Settled on your asparagus bedding,
with the sweep of ruralesque tones
down the front of your stately dress,
Austen's own, I desire you.
I want to steal you.
Pluck you from your landlocked throne
and throw you hard into the minds
of a new generation of romantics
who will bend at the knee and call you
"her Majestic city"
I will thief you in the night
when no one is looking for me -
mark my words as I mark your streets
with my impatient footprints settling;
and soon you will be my very own, Bath.
Mother EarthMy body is the earth;Mother Earth11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
See how under this bruise
A seed of malcontent sleeps.
See what grows out of each pore
As the pain pours over again.
There is rust in my fingerbeds
That poisons the roots
Of all good that hopes to grow here.
I am the convulsing, revolution
of the convoluted Earth...
I am the tectonic blades that clash
and shout when I curl up and hide.
You will feel me when I tremble,
and fear me when I explode
for under the magmanimous skin
There burns a core of hate
That can't be marred by human hand.
CarboniseI carbonise.Carbonise6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
My brittle bones turn
into pencil lead
and etch and ache against me.
I break open my elbow
and scrawl onto the walls
with the charcoal beneath.
a cave drawing of my end
onto a blistered skin
of plaster and mortar.
I rub blackened bone
to make sparks flutter
and bounce across the brickwork
EveShe wore a galaxy on her rib-cage,Eve6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
settled high upon her breast,
when I kissed her I could taste it;
the currency of her success.
Flora at the PassHear me read itFlora at the Pass8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I will never write of the cherry tree,
or think again on its impermanent beauty;
its delicate and breakable bones
or the pale flush of it's cheeks. I will not.
I will never again be pleased
to see its arms outstretched to embrace.
I won't call it my favourite,
or dream of it's presence at the momentous;
but at my wedding, there will be spring-bloom.
In my bouquet, my hair, my heart.
Enthralled in every quiet bud
of every quiet moment, cherries will be.
At my funeral, similarly,
entwined through my white coffin,
there will be the soft reflection
of its frostbitten petals. Even then.
For no matter what I am, or who,
there will always be blossom in spring.
There will always be cherries in my life;
and there will be flora at the pass.
MorningDawn crackedMorning7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and spilt its yolk across the horizon;
a syrupy congealing beginning
to a fast breaking day.
In absence of a poem.I chewed my pen to the nibIn absence of a poem.10 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
and swallowed the ink thoughtlessly,
but no matter how long I thought,
I couldn't say what you mean to me.
I tried, I tried and I tested,
every word in my diminutive range,
but I screwed up more pieces of paper
and happened upon something strange;
I noticed words, which have served me,
for all of my formative years,
had no power to convey my gratitude
for the times that you dried my tears.
Whenever I doubt myself (often),
You're the one who tells me I'm wrong
You lift up my chin and remind me, wait
for the good things that will come along.
I can't find a way to express how
you are the saving grace in my head.
So words can't tell you how I love you -
I hope my silence will tell you instead.
Broken Birds and Stark PhrasesWe slip and slide and fallBroken Birds and Stark Phrases6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
down curves and carrow places.
We cursive at the wall
in our undefinéd spaces.
Disjointed limbs extend
to strumpet our arrival,
to warn who are not friends
we will kill to survive all.
Hung upside-down haunters
hug branches in the Forrest.
Merry nightmare monsters,
Cheery snarling chorus,
Arachnic children know;
you can run but you can't hide
from this disparic truth,
darkness waits for you inside.
Although you seek the sun,
as all creaky spinsters might,
the night can't be out done
and it has you in its sight.