but not my palmssomewhere along the linesbut not my palms2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
my heart got so deprived
that i fell in love with
every bit of affection
i could get my hands on
you were lovely
and i was lonely
and you fell in love with my voice
but not my mouth
fell in love with my words,
but not my palms.
and no matter
how hard i try
i don't know how to turn
my garden of a body
birdlike bonesit's like youbirdlike bones2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wrapped your fingers
around my throat
and then had
the nerve to ask me
you're hurting mePlease. My bones do not bend.you're hurting me2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I lost my innocence, that day.When I was younger,I lost my innocence, that day.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there was a time where all of my friends
Girls wanted to play mommy and ponies
I wanted to play tag and race cars
and so did the boys
so we did.
Not a big deal.
I was six when I went over to a friends house for the first time.
He was really neat--
He had a box full of race cars and a bubble machine
that made the biggest bubbles.
One day, as we were having snacks
(because snack time is serious business, no matter what age you are)
I decided I wanted another one.
It was a stick of string cheese, and I was six--
clearly I was a growing lady and I needed my dose of dairy.
So I walked up to his mother and said
"please," because my momma raised me right, "can I have another string cheese?"
And I will never forget the hesitant look I got
the curious head tilt, the squinted eyes;
it's forever in my mind. It's always there.
Anyway, I didn't understand why it was so confusing.
Really, I just wanted another piece of cheese.
To be honest, I don't remember if she ever
now here's to you, tomorrowDear you,now here's to you, tomorrow1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
this is just to say that you are beautiful;
that the earth you stand upon is as old as time
and you are not, for you are simply a moment
a star shining sand speckled pillar of brilliance
for which we make up stories to tell our children.
I, too, began the journey of scholarhood ripe with
perhaps too many
good intentions, a loaded spark rather than a
breathing ember, looking up & out for the scorching
radiance that lay just below the skin;
This is not to say that yours will bear any likeness to
mine or that you are governed by any relevant principles,
only that we share more than you might think
—the present is a gift to us from the invariable past,
from us to the inevitable future,
to be held without expectation except to live vicariously
through the blissful momentum of experienc
things i have come to know about the sky1.things i have come to know about the sky1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
you are endless, a backlit canopy
or stage of infinites; some say
you speak to them in low murmurs,
that you rain judgement down upon us,
i fear you not, you've caught my eye a few times
but i only looked up to see what
the hype was all about
when i was born, doctors said i was blue
—cerulean as the sky,
entering the world with clenched fists
and held breath—
battle though this life may be, always it
will be by my rules
scientists say the sky is like an onion;
layers of celestial sphere you can slice off
with a thumbnail, 217.5 miles of teary eyes
& thick skin
we know not of what it is that compels
gravity to roll this sorrow down our faces
in some cultures they say the sky is a
thronedom, an altar for the gods; weather,
an instrument of rageful indifference,
a beautiful devotion worthy of arthritis
and a place in our school books
you torture us as the romans did,
we the bread for your melancholy circuses;
apathy never looked so poetic
as you do when you pain
Little FuryThe storm throws you to my door, drenched and bloodied, god-light dimmed. The crest of the hill is underwater. You have no boots.Little Fury2 years ago in Emotional More Like This
Morning dawns cold, clear, a watery gold. You are gone.
baby jesus.my bell jar breakingbaby jesus.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
shark tooth smile
whale's cry, rumbling
will never hear me.
i break down church walls
and wonder why
baby jesus, lord,
baby jesus, where is yours?
the star around my neck
i wonder why my dad moved us
to this shit hole
of a town.
i'm a jew- not
a circus act.
SensesSensesSenses2 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Our senses never fail us, only our judgment.
for the woman born an oceanthe world willfor the woman born an ocean11 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
set your borders on fire
and congratulate you
when you shrink.
but you were born
an ocean; you are the
child of the moon and
not even she can
do not let
them channel you
renovationsmy mind looks at my bodyrenovations7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
and says, "i don't like what
you've done with the place."
carnival ridesJesus came from smoke & moonshinecarnival rides1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
so whenever i blow out candles,
i write God a grocery list and
set fire to wax in the back of a church
with waning moons for parishioners.
faith comes and goes like carousels,
so i guess that means that i can count on clowns
but i can't count on light.
crack your glow sticks upon our congregation
like rainfall amidst the baptized first.
i spend more time in bed with myself
than i do whispering secrets into the
onion paper of Bible pages.
i vandalize hymn books with my favorite lines of poetry.
i never bothered to ask God if he was okay with this,
i've just always been apt at assuming too much.
maybe, when my father's language unfurls like a Persian rug,
i will relearn the taste of cotton candy & confection sugar.
i will build monuments for my convictions
to make up for all those times i just faked it.
maybe, like a holy convict, i will shackle myself
to good deeds that do not self-fulfill but, instead,
teach every lesson i
we called her memashe had salt skin,we called her mema2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wrinkles that fell off her in waves
and seven greasy finger links with
diamonds at their tips.
tied to a wheelchair with
black licorice chains,
her stubby feet locked into
children’s sized shoes and gushing
with crimson at the souls.
she had ants tucked into the pockets
of her lungs,
her eye sockets bled with the
spirit of poetry and prose.
we found her sleeping,
caressed by a thick layer of
and enjoying a love affair
with the grim reaper.
salem lives in youYou watch girlssalem lives in you4 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
like witches, as if
the opening of their Jupiter-
mouths will be enough
to condemn them to some
global podium of wrong.
Well? My bones are stars
(and maybe that’s why
eating feels like the meeting
of too much gravity and ash),
the Capricorn dots in
the alveoli of my lungs
making sure every breath
I breathe is frigid and black
like the ice in my fingernails –
they let me fly, but…
I’ll let you in on a secret:
it isn't magic to die early
or late on the doorstep
of a senile, nostalgic world –
so in longing for a past
that it repeats, repeats, repeats—
because most would call it mercy.
blowing my teeth out the back of my skullI.blowing my teeth out the back of my skull1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
we are hynagogic wasteland words, unraveling
corpses clutching at bruised throats - white gasoline
and when your skin heals, i hope i've permeated your bones
( i will never be rid of you ).
i think of bones encased in goldcall me sisyphus; my wristsi think of bones encased in gold6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
grip napalm nations & i am
parasympathetic. i speak
in cigarettes, more stippled
spinal cord than american
romanticist. sanguinary, pocked,
my pleural cavities leak
prozac pills & -
oh, this body has never
belonged to me.
artistic talent isn't a lake, she told meask me: why am i not writingartistic talent isn't a lake, she told me2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
enough, why am i not writing
at all, and i'll tell you
i don't know.
perhaps i have this thought
embedded somewhere in my mind
that i have truly dried up like
the lake my poetry teacher said
i wasn't, the resevoir in my
mind pale and arid and empty
maybe i have used all my resources
without considering the drought and
desperation i'd face near spring,
and i have coiled up
like an old tree root
and sunken like a grape
tough and rotten,
unable to froth and spill
and redraw in the amounts
i had before
bone nibbler40 days without water the ground steadying itselfbone nibbler3 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
with your body the labia of the magma, faculty of the volcano
like a helpless child. swinging on amniotic black ropes,
you allow the power to leach from you because at the other end of the desert
there is a destination
that cannot be reached by lego blocks of goal-setting and other drivel
like bring your own gasoline to the pity party.
then bathe in it and drink like the sickness of a wicker man
and tell your mothers cherry trees blossomed. they will love it
on the pimply braille of expunged chipped-off bark
it is because at the end of the journey the tv will switch to colour
the equilibrium will shift it will be uncanny
it might be death. you continue
hacking away on the off chance tha
risei will dig cratersrise2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
into my arms so
i can spread them wide
and burn brighter than the
this is my dying,
.a scalpel from.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
wrist to elbow-
you will not be
living under my
twenty-fouryou’re kissing ghosts;twenty-four10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
pressing their palms to your thighs
as if they’ll stick around 'till morning
astronomer's insomniapour in milky wayastronomer's insomnia2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
stir until planets dissolve
turn, avoid the sun
to broken hip bonelike insatiable anger, mournfulto broken hip bone8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
the sky cums birds
like teabag busting with
fannings circling down
solemnly as befits
the remnants of civilization.
where death smoked where antennae thrust
an empty victory where once a sled
where frostbitten hands where slipping
chained to bed. all of this
the stars move out
leaving couch springs exposed
in skewed cloud cotton
in the hallway
write, the why and howalwayswrite, the why and how2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with the war of two voices
raging in each ear, saying
"don't be a crypt or
an article of past
"show your thirst,
spend yourself literary
but the truth is
I am drawn archaic, bones brittle
and bursting like overripe fruit
and I write