to build-up smilesi'd like to seduce happinessto build-up smiles7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
buy a new dress for contentedness
slut it up for ecstasy
pull down the sheets on frivolity
melt down the wax around sacrifice
excuse myself for rushing
i'd like to choreograph prayer
the build-up to the artifice
stop smiles from touching
begin the wake before the dawn
the black before the white; a pair
disbanded before a circle shared
one half realising, "i'm just another pawn."
batteries unincludedyou are an hourbatteries unincluded8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sixty minutes of sixty tickings
in this hour is every word
youve ever said
i have an old wrist watch my father gave me
i say old, because five years is a long time when it is a quart of your life.
i use it to count you.
staring at the straight lines and reflecting the tubed light into a dancing circle on the wall
a spotlight for an ant
i imagine a woven straw hat and cane
there was always dancing wasnt there?
there was, but it was never us that were dancing. its just a configuration.
you know, of talk.
something we forgot all about.
perhaps it wasnt forgetfulness but forced ignorance.
you know, being stubborn, like stains you can never get out in the morning.
just likehe said,just like8 years ago in Typographical More Like This
you taste kind of nice
ill give you a try.
its been too long
i know ive forgotten.
its just like riding a bike
i always used to crash
Spiderling"Next!"Spiderling8 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Shuffle, up, shuffle.
"Three teal, seven harlequin, ten spotted mauve… one spiderling."
"Gimme your ration card!"
"I… I… I… I… here…"
Mumble mutterings, "three teal, seven… spotted mauve. There ain't no spiderlings on this here card!" Eyes ablaze and as meat.
"Please, for my… back, the pain."
Slam down hard.
"Everyone gets their fair share. Nothing more. Always less. Nothing more. Next!"
Twenty coloured pills danced down his fingertips and I quickly picked them up as they bounced once, twice. Never let them more that thrice. Or pop! All over the counter. And no more. Always less.
The ration dispenser flicked my card at me. It twanged laminatedly against my forehead and landed on my gloved palm. I tucked it back into my pocket; card and pills packed safely. No one dares traverse the insides of another's pants these days.
They say everything's contagious.
It is the year of our Lord, 2100, June twelfth, eight fifteen post meridian and I am cold. Our lady is but a bloated memory fl
The loss of sanityAnother pillThe loss of sanity8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hidden under my pillow
My face fluorescently lit
Pacing up and down the hall
To maintain the sanity they deny
I'm not crazy
I write again and again
I'm not crazy
I whisper as they turn the lock
ImitationIf I were carbon paperImitation7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I'd lie down to trace your perfect lines
and then I could duplicate your beauty
pretending it was my own
Poetry is my friendWallflower girlPoetry is my friend8 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Trying to blend with the scenery
Wishing for this night to end
And she can return to seclusion
Periods of small talk interrupting
Millennia of loneliness
Once the crowd is gone
She'll be safe once again
Surrounded by the comfort
Of the ones she truly loves
The ones who don't judge
If only books could hug back
You'll never knowYour words blow through me, chilling my heartYou'll never know7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
These sentences stringing together, icicles raining down on me
I can't bear to look at you.
I stare into the trees, feeling as naked as they appear
All I can think is, I wish I hadn't found such a way to keep warm last night
and I know you are hurting, but you hurt me too
You feel miles away, if I could only reach out and touch you
It's so cold, we're so cold,
and I'm afraid your love is blowing away with the leaves.
This stinging in my eyesVivid pictures burst to lifeThis stinging in my eyes7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as the cool air rustles through my hair
Seeing those burgundy tipped yellow petals
and orange falling leaves,
the beauty of this beginning of the end engulfs me.
I pull my jacket just a little tighter as the wind picks up
and my thoughts are carried away
only to be caught up in empty branches
hopelessly tangled like a child's kite string
I know these ideas of you, of our life together
will continue to haunt our secret place
like a sweet dream turned nightmare
and I'm left here wondering when I'll wake
inconsolableit is falling back into eleven year old preset.inconsolable7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
clinking in slithering seatbelts, constricting closer
to avoid falling out the window on impact
believing that i was in a car with a stranger
without even candy allure
it is facing that tree we carved weaponry
when its branches touched the sky and now
not so far above me, not so far above me.
i took your favourite knife and carved death
into supple wood and through my plying i received
pride in a shaken word or two
- apostrophes making it never three.
in a different language it is four.
and there are seven letters in the word
i said, whilst walking out the door.
your eyes are hide and seeking behind
dizzy-makers that i can't see through
even when i try
and your laughter and your embraces
and your horrible terrible jokes
are what i'll miss most
On Women: TexasTexas:On Women: Texas6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
All their clothes hang loose on their frames.
They have starved away their stomachs
they have starved out their breasts.
they have starved out their unborn babies
I suppose they feel beautiful
Projected on a frameYour face is perpendicular to the floor, and it is song and it is soliloquy.Projected on a frame7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
You start dusty beneath my fingers
Follow up like turrets appearing in the fog
And I am the piper
And I am the caster
Winged words float upward from
messy mouth nests and fly high
above our heads so high we cannot
catch them once said.
Chirping incessantly, we mock
ourselves in reverberation.
And we cry in the circling
rings of silence.
And I am the breaker
And I am the chaser
Dreams calm collected
in my arms, overflowing
with want and spill clumsy
into heads unready.
It is deceit that follows
the ring leader into a
guarded forest of
Your face is parallel to the floor, and it is wrong and it is indecency.
do you ?whose person did i become?do you ?7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(i struggle to shut out all the things that i wasnt saying)
i dream incessantly
and stare far too much at the sky
(can you tell me what it says about me?)
I'm quiet when I break. And no, you wouldn't know, I could be smiling, and no, you wouldn't know. I could be laughing at your jokes and your surface weather pleasantries, and I could be breaking, and no, you wouldn't know.
There is stonework I traced, and never memorised completely, cracks I didn't step on and fingers interlaced, conversations I recall pieces of, like pieces of string humming reverberations from a can on the other side
I'm too stubborn for anyone's good. I couldn't relax into a moment... wait, I could; what I mean
On Women: CHer symphony is pills falling on the counter andOn Women: C6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
the muted sound of herbs wilting on the window sill.
When she wakes up, she wonders what she did wrong.
Love-Gun Combustion.Let me tell youLove-Gun Combustion.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
about all the times
I have spontaneously combusted
in my sleep.
I am certain that I know
the fierceness of hell,
and that when we sleep,
our hearts hold hands
and run-off and
by the morning,
we are still
That is how deep our love is.
Its veins run through the solar system,
it pumps & pounds loud
enough to make the stars weep &
It is an understanding beyond
the beauty of bones,
and a joy more immense than the sun.
Here You Are. Here We Were.1995Here You Are. Here We Were.7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
we dig a hole to china in the sandbox
two feet deep.
we name it victory and cry on tuesday when
the janitor comes at night and fills it in
quietly, tamping the sand with his
alice jennings sobs in the bathroom.
i wash my hands five times before
i ask what is wrong.
fuck off bitch, she says.
ok, i say, and dry my hands
later i will draw her a picture of a sun,
fold it into an origami star
and then go home and tear it into
they say he probably didn't
even feel a thing, and i think
about how i don't feel a
we lay naked, listening to the
gentle humming of the fan. you
drum fingertips against my hip.
are you ok? you ask. your hand
speaks a foreign language to my
probably, i say.
Found Poetry: Captured MoonFound Poetry: Captured Moon9 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When that one woman came to the library
I fell for her.
I remember that lovely night
Inspired by a story,
Not of goblins,
But of love.
And if I hid her body in the earth
In a book under a rock,
I have captured the moon.
She was the moon.
On Women: My Grandmother KickAfter grandpa died, I asked if she was lonely.On Women: My Grandmother Kick6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I thought she was being brave when she said 'no'.
but I have seen her eighty-seven year old bones go for walks in the woods
or make sugar-free cookies.
She is a bird without a cage.
She makes solitude look romantic.
Tan LinesI am very pale.Tan Lines6 years ago in General Non-Fiction More Like This
Not the pretty, porcelain kind of pale-
the veiny, see-through kind. In the winter I'm almost purple.
I am very pale.
But still I went.
I almost ran even.
It's July in Texas. People go to the pool, I guess. People do outdoorsy things. I guess. But people do outdoorsy things with a white pop of slathered sunscreen, with a wide brimmed hat, an umbrella.
I remember standing naked in the tub as my mother poured vinegar down my back in the light of some old wife's tale. I was eight and we had been at Virginia Beach. I had spent most of the day collecting little pieces of broken shells, pulling them tediously out of the sand. Squatting on the shore had allowed the tide to fill the crotch of my swim suit with sand and whatever else. The tourist shops, whose store fronts lined the promenade, sold polished, unbroken shells, but they were ugly to me and didn't carry the sound of the ocean.
Later that night must have been one of the first times I wanted to die.
The vinegar fel
On Women: LesbiansThree soft lesbians.On Women: Lesbians6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
They are too beautiful for men too touch.
Calloused hands would mar their gentle indifference.
On Women: My motherNo trauma could silence the swing of her hipsOn Women: My mother6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
or the cock of her head.
Her curves become padded with the most beautiful celulite-
a little more every year.
There is no sight more decadent than
her Jersey Knit dresses pulling upward on her thighs.
She does not need to be told she is lovely.