Lost in Translation "I see."Lost in Translation2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Said the blind man.
Fall of the LeafFall of the Leaf2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Summer ended at the edge of an equinox
then onto the end
are nautical days.
For Sunday's overcast;
though fabric, slated
past its glassy pane
lapsed into the room
let shadow's dismay
lasting onto summer's breath
from whence it
reminisced like meters
are in every gentle breeze
and every coloured plane,
of all that still
My thoughts, thus confined,
and the prospect
presaged into their limbs;
I had transcended from each
that foiled below
and lateral structure, fallen.
When hope was lush as green began
for all its quietus
and variegation, end
is the fray.
Their many weathered elements
an olfactory property,
and forever pleasing
His Better HalfBride/GroomHis Better Half2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
EscapeI'm trying to escape,Escape10 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
trying to get away,
trying to ignore what they do,
forget about what they say.
No move I ever make,
can ever be one right,
every simple thing I say,
always starts a fight.
I'm sorry I'm not perfect,
the way I'm supposed to be,
the thing is your slowly killing me,
why can't you see?
I'd really like to run away,
where someone would understand,
to someone who could see my pain,
and gently take my hand.
Archaic MirrorMy dreams are left to boilArchaic Mirror3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on the rocks
as if a cogitation of hope, still froths into aeons.
And I frivol of its fetor, decay; like shadow lapsed
over its crepuscule, banks. What is time but wasted symmetry?
I Blame My EnemiesPointing at all,I Blame My Enemies3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but the mirror.
Titles Don't Belong in the First LineTitles don’t belong in the first line,Titles Don't Belong in the First Line2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and poetry is not made of end rhymes.
The ventilated fluorescence and I
flicker at the incongruence
and I want to tell her
sometimes east is left
on the map
if you hold it right.
Fate's Scratching PostYour sanity, shredded, while you wait.Fate's Scratching Post2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
-she seeks solace-1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
from the crevices of her mind
because it's the only place
where innocence still remains;
and it is the only place
where she can think
without the corruption of the world plaguing her mind.
FlawedInsecurities.Flawed6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Screaming at me,
clawing at every inch
of my body.
That little voice inside my head
sounding strangely like my own,
tearing me down,
from the inside.
Each hate-filled blow,
hits harder than the last.
Each self-inflicted cut,
hidden in shame,
nonexistent to the piercing eyes of others,
visible only in that lonely mirror reflection.
little dotted lines drawn
over every flawed bit of me.
Not pretty enough,
There is not a perfect inch
within my being.
Why can't I be beautiful?
Bravery is ExternalBehind a mask,Bravery is External3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hide fear.
It's not Rocket Science a poem for Jack ParsonsIt's not Rocket Science4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Lucifer took a hit, landed
face-down & flat-broke
back in the 40s
out on the West Coast
eyes the colour of Swarfega
teeth rotting, shoes worn through,
and dying for another high
too early for acid he takes
the mescaline trail
down into the Mojave
where the rattlesnakes are
locked in their kundalini and the
stillness flickers like god
across a lizard's eye
Lucifer hitched a ride
over to Pasadena
to see Jack and the Rocket Boys
see what they can do
to put him back in heaven
too long in the desert
Jack's already on the last reel
Parenting tips:Make it look like an accident.Parenting tips:3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
-you sometimes f o r g e t-1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
who you really are
beneath the facade
— — because it is too painful
to acknowledge your sins.
The Heterophobic"I'm not gay," said his boyfriend.The Heterophobic3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
-i. the world would be a better place if-1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
no longer existed
there is far too little time
to hold such bitterness in our hearts.
ii. the world would be a better place if
we found homes
in each other
home is where the heart is,
and my heart lies with you.
iii. the world would be a better place if
to believe in ourselves
it’s okay to fall
when you will rise once more.
iv. the world would be a better place if
the scars that adorn our bodies
in our flaws.
v. the world is a better place
because of your kindness
and everything you do.
Tragedy"A tragedy...." They whisper. I survived.Tragedy3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
DecemberIn hiding our skin from the cold that comes down to hug usDecember4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
latching the wooden gate slowly
the rust sounding like tumbling
rain drips in chiseled rivers making
stars on the sidewalk
the endless whir of distant traffic meaning something's leaving
already consummate in the cracks of winter trees
a bird's hollow voice her hollow bones squeaking
from this I learn constancy
from this I learn the earth's inner warmth means time has passed
I think I should pose more challenges to it
because of passing
but I think I'll just go back inside
I think I'll just go back to bed
some revolutionsIn the running water I list the ways I'd be changedsome revolutions4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
if I weren't born among angels.
She developed alongside me as a lotus flower develops its sunrise
contained in the gentle palm of resurgence dropping echoes
with each pink triangle falling in sequence until the light
had pinched time off the ancient face of the clock.
Sonnet to Breathabout the rib. it makes sense. at Out-Sonnet to Breath2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
back my father picks it up, gets it stuck in
his teeth, and like a brutish harpist plucks it out,
lets it settle. smoking preference? menthol. in-
door seat? the closest waterfall. they knife out
flower from vegetable. “the game” drags students in
collectively, like how a yawn moves-- uncoils out--
humanity starts rippling. how much of school was in
a herd like this? how much was ringworm? out
here is lonelier; my romance is silent. in
time I think of him and am bothered by it. out
the window steeps a sunrise. it’s five in
the morning. can he sleep? my laptop’s out
and holy Book! he’s up, but then— that rib again.
To Darwin, on Hearing of the 22 ChronometersDid the ticking drive you mad?To Darwin, on Hearing of the 22 Chronometers4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Twenty two clocks to tie you
to Greenwich, to the damp land,
to the paved streets and spires
and the blank glazed windows
of progress and age? Did time
become fathoms deep, and the
dwindling abyss transform to
thoughts of deep, deep time?
The blind eyes of bottom dwellers,
the feelers of those that survived,
the wellings of primordial soup
perhaps flavoured your thoughts.
(you never saw them. We know
you never saw the elemental broth,
the creatures like to dinosaurs
in a Blackpool of phosphorescence.
But the mystery, perhaps. The thought
that things exist beyond your imagining.
The thought that time stretches, deep
and wider than the books all told.
Perhaps that ocean thought stirred you.)
And when you thought of long
lived turtles in their shells and short
lived finches with precision beaks,
did you think of second hands and hours,
the life of a gnat and a continent,
the age of the rocks on which the
lizards sunned? Did, perhaps, each
Second-Long ThoughtI watched scarlet honey-drop fronds unfurl slowly,Second-Long Thought4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
its particles of time visible through lace sheaths.
I wanted to love you immensely; to trap you in my
sticky-sweet fingertips and suck the life right out
of you, sip-by-sip.
(There wasn't much there.)
Instead, you sped up my pulse, with your
amphetamine rush of concocted chemicals;
stopped me mid-stride and stole my heart.
(But grew thoughts like wildflower.)
Lacking all physicality of passion-painted particulars,
and chewing apart my newly manifested mind;
-listening to the discord of a minor strum-
(It's what I'm left with.)
Now, I'm tone deaf and praying to faulty gods for
swift, unruly departure from this unnatural,
superficial world, wrought full with censorship
and no purpose of bei