senses poemsSenses Poemssenses poems5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
1) meet it halfway
when hope finds you it is yellow,
and it is underfoot, leaves crackling
like a spine,
and the earth cries it out,
spilling it from the green-smelling
tree branches, and it is
pacing around your room, hands
quivering with prickly words and sweltering language,
exploding stars inside its mouth,
and you expect to see white and gold glitter
fall through its lips, but
there is nothing; and
when you open the door, metal in your mouth,
it turns around and reaches
2) that other organ
the bluejay hits your window with
his wings spread out, eyes open,
and you listen for the sickening
slap and the smell of your window
slipping up with feathers and blood,
trying to hold onto the small blue
and the bird is the red-stomach curls
on the tip of his head, and the bird is
every endearing little girl asking you to
be the other sack of tissues and nerves
on her see(sea)saw, and the bird is every
old man who tugs at your ears with a sick
Bathtub EscapadeI am writing this to youBathtub Escapade7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
From a bathtub in Jerusalem.
This room is gold
like the city itself:
stone sitting smugly
on strata pedestals
looking down haughtily
at my scrawny form:
into scraps. scripts. dusty dreams.
Till tongue is soaked
in movements and images of
people burying all mystery
in the same old void.
I was speaking to
the Rabbis wife tonight,
Slurring my words
and cursing myself
and only thinking about
The dead bird stuck in the Wailing Wall
Its beak jammed in there
like a personal love letter
its wings flapping like dead weights.
From here the world looks grey.
The faucet dripping behind
a backdrop of spinal chord
and emerging puddle,
The edges of our world are desiccated.
In a land that has been ravished, raped, bastardized,
I dont go hunting for boundaries
So in my mind,
let us live here
syllables spilling softly
drunk with the drip.
of this golden tap
in this golden city.
three point turnthree point turn8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's not always about things like slipper slaps
on wilting skin, knees turn supple and give way
as you heave up ribs. you lost a red rubber dingy
in a sea that reminds you of sinks, white skies turn and run
in the opposite direction.
You will not always be this way. A judder from the core
right to the jaw lets out subtle things like sighs
and almost tears. Stumble, bash your head against an SOS sign,
I am on the other side of the helpline with fishbowls
and plasters on three fingers and every inch of my arm.
Five was enough to hand you glasses of water
and a heavy-but-warm telephone connection that runs through my toes
right to a muscle that contracts and sometimes aches.
I wrap up safe in padded jackets and enter your room.
all i have.all i haveall i have.8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
is this one rose,
one rose to symbolize;
to stand for,
everything you mean
all i have
is this one heart,
to give to you;
to tell you,
everything i couldn't say
all i have
are the words on my lips,
and the feelings
all i have
is the hope,
that you will understand.
you're all i have.
catharsis.one.catharsis.5 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
i was knocking at your door. it was
freezing cold, and the ice-rain got inside
my heart, and i was screaming please,
please, let me in. and i was knocking
at your door until my voice was
gone and my knuckles were bleeding
and you never even heard me.
apparently you are a different person now. apparently you have new friends to laugh with; joke with; cry with; tell secrets to.
apparently i'm not one of those friends anymore, and this breaks my heart - not that i'd ever tell you this. apparently we are no longer major parts of each other's life anymore, although we promised each other we'd never drift apart.
i wonder if the continents told themselves that, too.
i put a stethoscope over your heart
and all i heard was static and the sounds
if you can't even be honest with me, who can you be honest with?
maybe no one. maybe i'm a liar, just like you say. maybe i'm no good and maybe i'm screwed and maybe this is fate; maybe it is my destiny to
I'm The Girl With No NameI drew a heart and wrote your nameI'm The Girl With No Name7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And said "Forever" in fancy letters on top of the page.
But you never saw it before. I had no intention of showing you
Back then you didn't even know my name.
You were the star in high school
I watched them swoon but never love you.
Because they couldn't love you
I loved you
I still wrote your name in hearts.
(but you still did not know that. in fact you still did not know my name.)
I sat behind you in some classes
From freshman year to senior.
Still thinking, praying, hoping, and whatever
The Pain Of Longing.It was the red flames that licked at your heart,The Pain Of Longing.8 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
They burned and they stung with a terrible bite.
The sun will rise when the moon departs.
Why do our stars seem so dim at night?
Its the perfect imperfections that caught my eye.
But Ill try not to think of them, it cant be right.
My artistic obsessions are hard to deny..
Why do our stars seem so dim at night?
Its when you hold my gaze that sets me afire.
Your eyes! They burn holes, try as I might,
To avert my gaze, laced with desire.
Why do our stars seem so dim at night?
The truth is the truth: I cant have you.
So Ill move on with false delight
Because no matter the longing, we both knew:
That our stars would shine dimly tonight.
Immigrant's Guide to ColoradoI was promised horses. I remember this distinctly.Immigrant's Guide to Colorado6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
My dad knew as well as I that moving isnt easy, especially to a place so very far away, so he would cushion it with promises such as these. Thoughts of horses and mountain ranches made the process of tearing away from my homeland all that more bearable, so I complied. My visions were of a log cabin situated on the hips of the foothills, with gentle mares that would lean their heads in my window in the heat of summer mornings. Of dirt roads and tractors, of cattle and barbed wire. But mostly horses, of course.
Colorado is not all horses and ranches. Our house turned out to squat in a quiet patch of suburb that seems a subtle copy of the very neighborhood from which I had come. It is a pale ivory and not made of logs, and the grass lives in trim, green patches like quilt squares, not in long stalks that whisper to my elbows. And the mountains?
you'll never falli. your heart is made ofyou'll never fall5 years ago in Scraps More Like This
cardiac muscle, working for
nothing except to keep somebody
else alive, as selfless
as you are.
[it's only tissue, vulnerable
and destructible; but your heart,
your heart, should be
diamond: priceless and unbreakable.]
ii. pretty fingers dance with
lace to count the stars,
tangling themselves between
clouds like a string of
iii. a pulse is hidden inside
a thick arterial wall.
where did it go? you asked.
your question was greeted
by empty air.
[it's only holding itself
closer to your heart, i'd
iv. window-washing has been left
behind, keeping around the
fogged windowpanes and
you need the rain to get
to the rainbow, you say.
[today, i'll paint your walls
v. marvel at the skies as they
embrace a new sun, a black moon,
and infinite stars.
it's full to bursting as it
stomachs air and holds birds
and twisted insects up,
like hands to catch
them if they fall.
[someday, you'll trip,
some sort of apocalypsethree things i want nothing moresome sort of apocalypse5 years ago in Scraps More Like This
than to never happen:
another bout of nuclear war,
the moon falling from orbit, and
a colour is on the inside of
my eyelids that draws itself
pretty when my movements slow
and silence, when my heart is
gilded with lead leafs, regretful
and hooked on a curled telephone
cord or a radio transmitter between
there's something catastrophic,
there's something played out
like a shakespearean tragedy,
there's something like the moon
crashing and crushing, there's
something like a broken bone
that is a personal apocalypse.
if i could sit beneath a tree and
decay until i was dirt, i would.
if i could stop running out of
air before my lungs could catch
it, i would. if i could become a
bird and fly-fly-fly, i would
trade my heart for it.
i am still standing, i still am
at a loss of words and dreams
and air, i still have no wings.
an atom bomb breaks the sky
and cuts free celestial bodies;
the moon is falling free and
cracking my head, and if i could
SnowMonths grouped together like careless footstepsSnow6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
stroll upon the lashings accorded to me by the sun.
In January I am caressed by ghosts
or something as cold and invisible.
They intrude upon hair, clothes; books
dampen with monstrous hand prints.
Are these shells of half-dead creatures
holding themselves, ancient in a cavern somewhere
or tethered to the earth by thought?
Bits of cloud, the flesh of heaven
picked off like a soft disease
nestle on my shoulder as if pulled from my sweater.
they emerge quietly like droplets of blood. Whisper:
we are the teeth of ancient things.
White drift presses upon the house
and the window. Its cool breath scales
my chin, pries open my mouth like a tenacious lover,
and settles with a small sigh on the tongue
like a hiss of steam.
We have made and unmade warmth.
the things we'll never say.1.the things we'll never say.5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
snakes crawl out of my mouth,
hands like sleep waiting silently
for me to give into them.
i toss words like rocks
across my tongue, skipping
across the lake, and we reach,
hands outstretched, for the sun
but it's a shame it's all empty.
listen, if you loved me, you
wouldn't try to fix me.
if you loved me, you'd paint
butterflies across the wall
to make me smile. listen,
if you loved me, you'd give
me handrails to hold onto
on the way down. you'd tell me
that right now, i'm a caterpillar
(but that caterpillars become
if you loved me,
you'd love me broken, too.
sure, you could say
i'm beautiful. sure,
you could say you love me.
but if you were silent,
maybe you could connect
the dots and find my heart in
it, somehow. maybe
you could open your hands
and i'd find all my dreams
in the lines.
so don't speak.
words won't ever say enough.
your first mistake was meeting
me, oceans in the stars and
whispers in our ears. we crossed
boundaries as if t
.3-Way Sin. [+] 3-Way Sin [+].3-Way Sin.9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Her empty stomach rolling on silk,
And she caught his thorns in her skin.
She liked the feeling,
Because it felt like sin.
He picked them out with the most gentle touch,
And whispered the things she was longing to hear.
And he swore,
She was the only one who had heard them
But she saw through.
To the back of his skull,
Where he was kicking himself
For saying the things he just said.
Cause he knew as well as she did,
That he didnt mean a thing by it.
Looking UpEvery person that I pass on the street either looks at me and smiles, or looks down at the passing cracks and scuffed boots that refuse to look back. Not one ever looks up. As a human I feel restrained in this two-way world, and as a stranger I feel helpless.Looking Up6 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
Did you see the man with the tattered work gloves? How he hid his fingers in his sweat-stained blue jeans and held a staring contest with his steel toes? I wish he knew that I walked by, that if he was to pass by me a second time, a that man looks more tired than the last time I saw him thought could run through his mind. He cant even imagine where hes going because he is too busy stuffing his mind with personal guilt. Nobody blames him but himself: for his menial job, his workaday routine, his solitude.
But I am just assuming here. I couldnt pinpoint this mans face in a lineup, or greet him by his predictable nickname. He would tell me (if he could see me), that the brim of his cap simpl
I'll Never Let You GoThe clock keeps ticking faster,I'll Never Let You Go10 years ago in Ballad More Like This
and I'm falling away from you.
The days are fading all our memories,
and there's nothing either of us can do.
You were here 'forever'
and now you are so far gone.
And although I failed to believe it,
I saw this one coming all along.
Except the picture of you left in the back of my mind,
you walked out without a trace.
And just when I think of moving on,
I breathe in and see your face.
I can't get you out of my head
and it's hardest late at night
to stop myself from thinking of you
before I fall asleep after
turning out the light.
I wish on stars
that I could just forget you
but the stars twinkle back
that they're sorry,
but there's nothing they can do.
That's when I decide I'm done with hurting,
and I kiss every memory goodbye,
I lay down to try and fall asleep
but all I can see are you eyes.
For all the pain you've given to me,
I should hate you, and yet I don't.
In my mind I do,
but my heart stubbornly refuses,
for some reason it just won't.
It's as th
Happiness' AllureClose your eyes, turtledove.Happiness' Allure6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Skip into your deepest memories
as swirling hues strip
the baby blue from the sky.
Trust my weathered hands
like when I pushed your swing
in your rosy-red dress and
usual cherub smile.
Cover your ears and rest easy
in my arms as the house yawns;
stretching and cracking floorboards
in attempt to remove
the glassy-crust from its eyes.
Tears plop along my ragged shirt,
and I drift to when we danced
with the melody of raindrops
on pots and pans during storms.
Screams and uprooted trees
blend like the moist soil
on our fingertips when
we prepared our garden
with just enough to survive.
My ears pop into deafness.
I kiss your forehead and with
trembling hands, shield your
dreaming form as the blast
steals us into eternal night.