to my signature, to my ink:I promise, star-dripped dew of my lips,to my signature, to my ink:6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
to never use the space a couch offers to sit away from you,
especially during bible study; not even a little, not even at all.
Song-fire-- my tongue, my dominant trait-- you are the hypothalamus gland of my spirit, you are how I taste existence
with angel feathers between my teeth, I smooth my tongue
over the light you left after kissing me...
You are every color, undiscovered and known; you make refracted light dim, you the prayer and the good cusswords at the back of my throat. You know my whole because you are
You are what it means to look forward.
You are what it means to stop being cold,
in deep places, in the corners
of the soul -
There is none like you, who I find rare seashells in.
There is none like you, who for seventeen years now
I have connected pianos on bea
Ergo SumI was saving this, but you were saving me. I hate umbrellas and cottage cheese. Love is not about repelling rain, love is about swallowing it and tasting each other in every sky--and you are the only person I have ever confessed to that I don't mind the smell of skunks. Bookmark, angel, warm street on bare feet, you inspire me to be so much better than I am. You make me believe in God. When I look at you, I see exactly where I am & all the places I was never going crumble before our chorded fingers. I am covered in love because of you, I am obsessed, I am smiling into every tainted well and when I bring my head up out of the ground sparkling wishes glitter down my hair, falling softly against the parched earth--and every star flower I know the scientific name of sprouts up. Again. You are my silver ore. You are cs lewis when he gives narnia back it's spring heart, you are the listening, you are the ribbon in my hair. You are my 2:04 am. You are unbreakable to the point of yearniErgo Sum6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Goneyou are playing piano,Gone6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
but you are the violin
picking my heart apart
and scaring away the fear.
You are how I pick up a sketchbook and do not break
into what is not God. You are how I hold a paintbrush,
you are how I pull a scarf of words out of my throat
to uncover the magic you spoke there. You
are how I measure time, how I measure beauty,
how I measure meaning; you are my subject and risen summer.
You are how there are no dogs-- only wolves with silk coats,
on my side
instead of attacking my sides -
you are, you are, you are;
and so I am, I am, I am, too.
you are how I can accept mirrors without anger;
because you are in me, and nothing can be ugly.
When you look at me,
I feel every dark chill thing
Your hands cool the fever mine contract
when not in contact with yours;
you bring me through the storm and we are rain together
in the same long answered prayer. You look at me,
you break the ancient monsters just by bei
CENSOR THIS 08880CENSOR THIS 0888012 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I remember when I know why the cage bird sings
was challenged for the "encouragement to take action
in premarital sex, homosexuality, and the use of
I remember when the Bible was banned and/or
challenged for being "pornography and obscene"
in Alaska and Pennsylvania in 1993.
I remember when the The Autobiography of
Malcolm-X was challenged in Flordia in 1994--
because it was "racist against white people"
I remember when Jambo Means Hello: The Swahili
Alphabet was charged with "degrading white
children" although it was a book for white children to
understand the African-American culture much better.
I remember when Daddy's Roomate was removed
by most libraries by most of the United States---for
Where Love Comes FromI just saw this girl on tv, with eyes of cloud, hair like earth;Where Love Comes From6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I saw these drifts of dust surrounding her head,
that she was seeing through, years back. I saw me.
Sitting in a metal chair behind a white building; the sound of people choking, deep inside, hidden from God. I understood nothing then, only the secret feelings smeared across their faces, only the aches dripping from their pockets. Shuffling feet; flirting with their emptiness. Trying to find the courage. To keep. Going. In world.
All this buzzing in my head, the flies of pressing energy, zimming through my thin protection, yet you are the music that reaches me through the crowd. Still. Forever. Even when reaching me is impossible; even when I am sliding down a funeral home bathroom wall to shake the shakes of those shaken - you are reaching me, you are tearing apart the blackening ground to murder the root-heart
You speak; angel's breath that
whips out like a sword to bleed the fog d
More----I remember the day you kissed my bruises; (kneecap, ankle, calve)More----6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
distinct-- not-- because they healed,
but because they came home, softly;
because each dead swan came to life and looked at me again.
You broke the broken years,
in this making -
whole - me
you whisper the word completion to me like a scroll or a butterfly god, and I recieve what it means to be untorn.
because you are speaking
and the ravens shatter
every last one
The Breath of GodI.The Breath of God8 years ago in Other More Like This
My bones have been like cabinets;
the hinges all dust, wood punctured.
Breathe, hope, stamina (the grains wheat enough to take on
absence, sweat, and nausea) were misplaced.
Their dearth rearranged my skeleton in certain places,
and I stuck out heresunk in there.
The nonexistence was pushy
bored with the fractures,
ignorant of setting the bone.
I was ignorant of setting the bone, too.
Mirrors were poor reflections,
wasted glass, unable to diagnose.
I was intact. It appeared
that way. The angles spoke of it
they expressed the wholeness of body. Sure they did.
It spoke of other images, too, the one image, mine
like silverware sticking out of me obnoxiously,
unkempt and gray and sharp, with no regard for
But I was still fleshstill, I had
eleven ribs, eight fingers, two kneecaps.
And my marrow
had air pockets.
findingsfindings6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
i have decided to write you a poem right now that is full of sleepy beginnings,
fraying, closing the way forgiveness opens. the night drags beautifuly,
as dark ink, while my muscles grow heavy and I am succumbing to the hour.
Your voice is seconds away, yet I mourn it; I crave you.
What I would give to roll over, soft kiss the hair
out of your sleeping eyes, knead my hand
against yours; what I would give to love you bodily.
I would give away these words.
I remember walking toward you over a month ago, in a shining gray airport,
with windows on every side... there was a lumbering man,
stooping, though he was walking up a ramp-
he was aging
his bag was plastic and his coat was like rust. I begged God to bring you closer.
Eleven minutes later, I held you again.
I love airports. I hate airports.
I love anything that brings you close;
I hate everything that rushes you away, be it inch, be it five hundred
Alone in the Rain - SilverLighAlone in the Rain - SilverLigh11 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Standing out here alone in the rain
Trying to wash away all of my pain
Drowning the sorrows from past years
Hiding from my nightmares and fears
The rain just gets harder and faster
I miss the good times and the laughter
I hide from it out here in the wet and cold
And I suffer from the things I've been told
The rain follows where tears once went
The rain like the pain shows no repent
I suffer for everything I am deep inside
And I remember the tears I once cried
I look around and see puddles of rain
Getting deeper and deeper like the pain
The puddles that used to be puddles of tears
The feelings and thoughts from all my fears
I can't explain to you the way I feel
And maybe by standing here I'll heal
I'll somehow wash away some of the pain
And I'll just stand here alone in the rain.
more. than. a soundseven days ago I loved youmore. than. a sound6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
less than I do now. you
are the lyrics looping through my head, you -
you just broke the cold air. picking up.
my dragging hands, saying, You are a brilliant star
everything you say is a poem
because I've seen you, your back to evil,
looking at the sky again, finally...
everything you are is concerto.
everything you are is why I can be.
Tea StainTea Stain13 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
"You call this bollage toast, man?
It's nowhere near done fully..
The middle bit's all burned'n'weird,
The outside bit is fluffy."
The toaster's broken inside,
And outside stands a goat..
And I am citing to the moon,
My tea stained suicide note.
"I can't believe I'm eating this."
I do wish he'd shut up..
In fact I'd wish this all away-
This blasted tea stained cup..
So many must have pondered it;
To leave it all and fly..
Fly to the moon ne'er looking back,
And let the morning die..
Yet, this cup's a might addictive,
And shalln't let me forget..
Yet seems my tea stained suicide,
Has not subsided yet..
And so, the middle of me's burning,
And outside's so unclear..
Why the devil there's a goat outside,
Is something rather queer..
The tea grows slowly strong and cold,
Like my unwritten note..
And I shall sip, and wait and wait,
Until the day I'm smote..
Pach, 31st night of Summer, MMII.
BrotherCome, brother. He is slow to answer. He was resting, but there is no time, now, for sleepy thoughts. The moon is sinking, see. The leaves overhead are slick with its death. The moon is sinking and my hatchlings scream for food. My ears bleed. His tail twitches laughter at me. Laughter comes easily to him. He is young yet, and only male. Come, brother. He comes.Brother5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There are not so many of us now. Our sisters left when the rains came, drowning the earth. They have not returned. I believe they are dead. Brother believes nothing. It is how he keeps happy and that is no small thing. The hatchlings prefer his company, but they are mine and I do not need love to know I must feed them. They will understand soon and learn patience. Then his empty-headedness will be a nuisance, but he is my brother; I will always have patience for him. They will learn this too. They will learn many things as they grow quiet too many things. For now though, their chittering will ruin my
- Tainted Lips -- Tainted Lips -10 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
She told me that she loved me
It's just too bad she lied
She kissed me with her tainted lips
And poisoned me inside
She told me we'd always be together
She said we'd never be apart
She promised it would be forever
She swore she'd never break my heart
But she left me here
And it's such a shame
She only stayed
to cause me pain
She watched me cry
She wanted to see
She watched me die
And she laughed at me
She kissed me with her tainted lips
And poisoned me inside
She told me that she loved me
It's just too bad she lied
the meadow angelhe looked warm, like rain can be.the meadow angel6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
he said, with good talking - "there is a wild bird in my hands"
in fact it had taken angels
beneath its wings, in fact we loved it there,
big grass against our feet. We felt storms breaking.
We unbuttoned our silk skins and bared our sleek souls to the sky,
which pulsed stars that were coming-that have- come.
we started slow like a song, with wand sparks that hid in clothesfolds of lies,
and we broke the way dreams break when you let the world - take - them out of you
we broke that way, anyhow. But I feel what it's like to
to close my eyes as God pulls the bedcovers over my body, which was dripping ink
between the ribs, which was staining my algebra notes, which I drank
when I could not drink anything. Because I could not swallow words
that did not
belong to you - when I look at you,
where I belong is looking back.
and all those years ago we broke because we let fear into our cereal.
but there are hearts that would not let us go.
PaybackIt wasn't like Protoman didn't have anything better to do than go looking to fight his brother. He just couldn't think of anything better to do. Heat Man and Needle Man had been summarily scrapped after their failure at rigging Governor Deacon's election, and Proto didn't feel like sticking around to recycle what was left of them. Dark Man he could've hung around with, but he was being repaired, and the other Robot Masters were busy fixing the Skullker. Wily himself was no help, either. Last Proto had checked the Doc was trying to come up with a new scheme to conquer the world after their failure to capture Brain Bot.Payback3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Left to his own devices, the only thing Protoman could think of would be to go after Megaman.
"Trouble is," he muttered, "how? I know where Light's lab is, but it's not like I could just walk in there not after what I did," he added with a slight smirk. Gaining his family's trust and betraying them had been one part of the plan that'd worked perf
Political LimericksThere once was a man named Bush,Political Limericks9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Whose head was stuck up his tush.
"There's weapons!" he cried,
He weaseled and lied,
Because his brain was made out of moosh.
Two men went to get married,
By parliament the two were harried.
"We have the right!"
They put up a fight,
Until Canada's views were varied.
Bush isn't the one who thinks,
Their routine's still working out kinks.
Sometimes they'll show this,
Did you ever notice?
He stops talking when Cheney drinks.
So the surplus could be bigger,
We could market a Chretien action figure!
With a kung-fu grip,
And a crooked lip,
He'd scare the crap out of Tigger.
The Conservative party is mean,
Harper's heart has yet to be seen.
The liberals forced out,
NDP with no clout,
Next time consider voting Green.
introduction.stop, turn;introduction.6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
your masks burns;
no more lies
I kiss the soot off
your shoulders; it is smoking, gone. I see your wings now,
pushing up through the shirt. Maroon. I long to---
I lean instinctively forward, to touch the feathers
peaking out -
You: standing there, holding a new blade- made of light, strong, -
we wear gowns perhaps of sunrise
hues, the lavenders staining our cheeks, the roses
blending on wrist veins; and we reach
toward the glass,
on the way through.
As our fingers lace, God's voice pours over us like rain:
we are soaked, we are listening:
staring softly at our together-hands, "Welcome home"
I'm Holding YouWhen I was seventeen I started realizing that people die. My heart panicked at the thought of it surrounding me, because death is not something anyone, no matter how strong or beautiful or true they are, can escape from. It is inevitability that scares me; walls I cannot climb, loneliness I cannot persuade to slither away again into a corner, not touching me, only watching, only reaching for the hem of other skirts. I am the girl that thinks of nothing but you. I am the one missing you when you reach for your glass of water and have to let go of my hand; I cannot imagine waking up in the middle of the night, crying, your breathing not measuring mine, the perfect symphony of our heat. Stay with me. I kicked in the womb, eager to grow into the name of your soul. Lock us together; I pray to God, lock us together, for you are the healing water I could not bear the grief of losing; my pale tossing body breathing shallowly in the sunken fabric of a couch, you are a spirit passing through theI'm Holding You6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Some HeartsThats the O.Z. I remember.Some Hearts7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
With these simple words, and the suns shining over Central City, it seemed as if happily ever after was on the horizon. The royal family was reunited, the witch melted and all seemed taken care of. People all over were rejoicing the end of the dark days and looking forward to the wonderful ones ahead.
All but one.
Azkadellia had moved away from the group gazing out at the suns return. She didnt deserve to be out there, celebrating when she had been the one to try and doom the city to eternal darkness. She had caused pain to so many, stole so many lives during her reign of terror.
DG on the other hand, was just a yearling compared to Azkadellia. She had been in the O.Z. less than a week and she was thrust into the role of princess. She gained an entire family and wealth of knowledge that for her whole life she thought she had invented in her imagination. Her new friends had helped her more in the past few days then some of her best frie
Fix YouFix YouFix You7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
No! Please, You cant! Please, thats my brain! he heard the words, desperation thick in them being torn from his lips.
Itll be much better if you dont struggle, Ambrose. A cold voice cooed. If you struggle, they may not leave even half your brain.
Princess Azkadellia awoke from her dream with a start, bolting upright from her bed. Her raven hair hung free, and tangled, over her back and shoulders. Her silken nightdress clung tightly to her skin by sweat. The pale Princess sat still and breathing heavy for several moments before realizing she was not alone in her bedroom.
Rise and shine! A cheery voice called and pulled back the heavy curtains to send sunlight pouring into the room. DG stood by her sisters bedside, balancing a tray in one hand and a pitcher of juice in the other. She placed them on her sisters end table, then stood back and waited.
DG? The older princess blinked