A Walk With the Poet- Canto I(Pilot)
Still and standing was I,
at the middle of my journey.
Lost between the right and the wrong.
Forgetful as to the actions that
brought me to such a place as this...
The outskirts of some abandon ruin,
External, the metropolis
from which I had come.
Above me the ruins stood,
looking down upon me...
Upon the desolation in my eyes
which did stare.
What amount of distraught came to me!
I knew no amount of control in this place.
An occurrence so similar to some sort of nightmare.
To what extent is this my current reality?
To what cause is the reason behind,
my presence within these shambles of a past.
At the entrance to my ears,
the blowing dust and ash...
calling me from all directions.
From the shadows did I hear the bellow of some beast...
And from my chest, the beat of my fearful heart...
Beating breath after breath from my dry mouth...
The growling carried on...
past the blowing dust and into my dreading ears,
And emerged the beast from the dust shrouded dark.
Its heads were three,
Salsa, Rice, RhythmThere is something splendid aboutSalsa, Rice, Rhythm in Free Verse More Like This
a Peruvian man leaving the rice to burn
because he is unable to keep himself
when a good Salsa song comes on
there is something exquisite and wild about a woman
paying uncontrollable obeisance to the rhythm
thrilling to the beat
waxing and waning to the sound waves
there is something gorgeous about the
the movements, like an untamed clockwork
the way the line between sound and
limb's poetry blurs
fantasia's demise comes with a soft
followed by a drought of wakefulness
surprised to see walls and ceiling
surprised to be alive in
only three dimensions
lovea writer of poetrylove in Free Verse More Like This
is like a young mother
she has survived the
messy process and
rests happy and
loathe to lay this new one down, even
swaddled in adjectives,
contented or wailing
she will not sleep
she watches the rise and fall,
the slow-breath blinking
wonders if this
piece of beauty
is old enough to love her
Elementary, my dearI am reducedElementary, my dear in Free Verse More Like This
to grade-school levels of
check yes or no
crayon hearts on the wall
no one around to
make me scrub them off
give me a dandelion and
I will write about it
in my diary,
hide the key under my mattress
let's build a blanket fort
let's climb a tree
while they chant the spelling
that makes us blush
let's drink milkshakes
from the same glass,
then make our parents pay for them
when they tell us we're
too young to date
Inkand all of a suddenInk in Free Verse More Like This
I want a tattoo.
The spirit of ink has possessed me
call a priest,
I want it all.
I want stars and wings and leaves
and poems and maps
shy silence is gray and
I want yours
all over my damn
expectedand I always wanted to say somethingexpected in Free Verse More Like This
what I bit back
bloody teeth and Pavlovian
associations are only half of what keeps my
crayons inside the lines
if you rub a cloth in pheromones
a snake will perform a mating ritual
we are assembly lines too,
news anchors obeying the teleprompter
tides taking orders from the moon
polite scripts in Arial Size 12 font have my
italic eyes begging you to
ask me something in Bold
detached pessimismI always catch you looking into the atmospheredetached pessimism in Free Verse More Like This
like clouds are only potential
you don’t have to apologize for yourself
I once dated a man
solely because I thought being broken
would improve my poetry
I understand why people are
turned into objects
for the sake of art or
why the end should sometimes be
acknowledged with a shrug
before the beginning can even
I know why you keep the glass
half empty and yourself
Trendsplastic is the newTrends in Free Verse More Like This
ink. facelifts and
acronyms instead of
Prince Charming mentions you to his work friends
with the same tender violence
a five year old yanks the tail of the cat with
for the first time,
smiles have devolved to nothing but an overabundance of
residueyou know usuallyresidue in Free Verse More Like This
I can forget men,
I can forget them
amnesia, neither snow nor
for every natural disaster that
began with a sunrise
there is a deep calm where I
spidercaught in my headweb
you are either better
than the rest, or far, far
SkepticFunny how the same problem I had when I was three getting yelled at in supermarkets resurfaces. I can’t look without touching. Unlike you, my defects are quite well hidden, rotten strawberries carefully shifted to the bottom of the container. Maybe they would play nice with yours, I don’t know I don’t knowSkeptic in Free Verse More Like This
I don’t know.
I don’t think you know the meaning of demons. You ever find yourself crying on an examination table to a doctor who insists you're only sad because it's winter? I’m sorry. I don’t mean to dismiss your past like my skeletons are so much more violent.
Who are you? Convince me that staying is more cost effective. I have examined you all over and still can’t find the price tag much less the return policy. Convince me to give up every other possible future of better hands and softer highs. Convince me I can handle the sewing mistakes, colors that run in the wash, the less t
The ThingI lay still in my bed,The Thing in Free Verse More Like This
Mr. Ted by my side,
And listen hard for the thing
That crawls around outside.
He'll start with the scratching,
It's always the same,
His claws carving the face
Of the wooden door frame.
Then he'll move onto the blood
Seeping beneath my door,
Dripping from the walls,
Covering the floor.
The wardrobe will squeak,
Those green eyes appear,
Voices will whisper
Dark words in my ear.
Their dead hands will tug
At the edge of my sheets
And insects will crawl
All over my feet.
I lay and wait
For their games to begin.
But tonight will be different,
I whisper with a grin,
Tonight I will show
Those monsters a scare.
They can come back again,
IF they dare.
The Boy Who Wore A MaskThere once was a boy,The Boy Who Wore A Mask in Free Verse More Like This
His parents named him Todd.
In most ways he was normal,
But there was something odd.
Todd liked to wear a mask,
The reason was unknown.
He wore it day and night,
His face was never shown.
One day as Todd was playing
Outside his favourite hole,
A boy came running at him,
He only had one goal.
When the mask was taken,
What remained was quite a shock,
For instead of human features,
There lived but just one rock!
Now this rock was nothing special,
It didn't dance or sing.
Heck it wasn't even living,
It just didn't do a thing!
So the boy did what we all might,
He reached into Todd's face,
Wrapped his hands around the object
And removed it from its place.
He skipped off down the street
To play at the nearby lake.
Skimming rocks was his favourite
And now he couldn't wait!
"So what became of Todd?"
How kind of you to ask.
Poor Todd just lay there lifeless,
Beside his favourite mask.
Recycle BinOh Recycle Bin,Recycle Bin in Free Verse More Like This
How you taunt me so.
Plump from my ideas,
With none for me to show.
Your mouth always open,
Waiting to be fed
The words that roll about
So messy in my head.
Each scrap a banquet,
Each page a tasty treat.
You grin at my failure
And swell from my defeat...
Nothing But A PuppetI am nothing but a puppet,Nothing But A Puppet in Free Verse More Like This
A thing that you control.
A simple wooden toy,
I do not have a soul.
I am nothing but a puppet,
Someone to do your bidding.
Your demands from my body,
I am nothing but a puppet,
Your fingers pull my strings.
They pull in all directions,
I am nothing but a puppet,
My strings down by my sides,
Trailing closely right behind me,
My eternally bounding ties.
The Angel's LamentThe bell tolls its haunting ring,The Angel's Lament in Free Verse More Like This
A tune to which the angels sing.
Their promise of exquisite things
Falls deaf on those without their wings.
The World Is Your Oyster (Collaborative Poem)Delicately, he driftsThe World Is Your Oyster (Collaborative Poem) in Free Verse More Like This
On the blanket of blue.
Like a ship with its crew.
Mummy's BoyDAY 1Mummy's Boy in Free Verse More Like This
Well look, she awakes, from her slumber so sweet.
How are you feeling? How did you sleep?
Oh Mummy, dear Mummy, why do you cry?
Is it because of this knife? This one in your side?
Does it hurt when I twist it? When I move it slow?
How about when I force it as deep as it'll go?
Now, now, be still. Please try not to scream
Or those stitches will tear and your lips will bleed.
Now Mummy, I must go, I have guests on the way.
Don't worry, I'll be back. We have more games to play.
They say I have your eyes, "so deep and so blue;
A vision of beauty, honesty and virtue",
Oh how naive they are, how simple, how vain.
Your eyes of 'innocence' are now eyes of pain.
But why can't they be mine? Why must we share?
Who says these eyes are yours alone to bear?
No matter, I can fix that. All I need are these scissors
and those betraying orbs will no longer be with us.
They say the eyes are the window to the soul,
But Mummy, dear Mummy, where is your soul?
So two days have gone by, yet
SlenderBetter keep moving,Slender in Free Verse More Like This
Evade his deadly grasp.
His long, tendril arms
Inching ever closer.
Nothing will stop him.
Darkness hides him,
Obscured by the vast
Unknown. But he's always...
Comic Book HeroWe met in the Summer, I was single and free,Comic Book Hero in Free Verse More Like This
So fragile and sweet, he took care of me.
He was so much fun, exciting and new,
It was all so amazing, too good to be true.
Like a comic book hero, he swept me away.
He promised me the world, the night and day.
But his heart was untrue, his words were lies.
No comic book hero, but a villain disguised.
Our romance was deep, like Superman and Miss Lane
Iron Man, Miss Potts, Spidey and Mary Jane.
He impressed me with gifts, and words sublime,
Affirmations of how he would always be mine.
Like a comic book hero, he swept me away.
He promised me the world, the night and day.
But his heart was untrue, his words were lies.
No comic book hero, but a villain disguised.
As time went by, his promises were lost.
His stories grew grander and my heart was the cost.
The hero, he ran. Where to? No one knows.
But a path of heart ache will follow where he goes.
Like a comic book hero, he too wore a mask.
Promises broken, our love not to last.
And his heart was
pebblesthe sifters discoverpebbles in Free Verse More Like This
among other flaws
lack of imagery,
absence of flow,
and scatter of adjectives.
deciding my poems
are nothing but pebbles,
paper and pen;
send me packing underwater.
for the moment
i get by
using squid ink,
i might imagine
or that a starfish
sees my work
march 21, 2012
our kisswith precisionour kiss in Free Verse More Like This
we followed the schedule
of rehearsed walks,
and choreographed dances.
were as planned:
your suit and tie,
my gown and veil.
but God - i hope
was not an orchestration,
not some piece
not a photograph taken
to show the world
mine has no need
for an audience
or a future scrapbook.
when we were kissing,
i was somewhere else - celebrating
a marriage of hearts
that did not really care much for weddings.
i could leave the entourage,
skip the reception,
and just go home with you.
february 3, 2012
gyrate for them, gretagyrate for them, greta;gyrate for them, greta in Free Verse More Like This
let men spend for liquor.
the stage won't sizzle
unless you provoke
a drunkard's primal urge
that should pay
© august 23, 2013
canapescanapéscanapes in Free Verse More Like This
undeterred by the grease
and excesses and after the binge,
they stick a toothbrush
down their throats.
note to self:
emotions are just as fattening.
at the rate we are going,
i fear you will tire of me.
so please love me in bite sizes,
in portions to sustain us
through birthdays and christmases
and in servings
where you savour me
the way i savour you.
© november 1, 2013
hickeyshook me up with a star, he sayshickeys in Free Verse More Like This
and makes out with the moon.
smooching the midday sun,
he winds up sleeping with some cloud.
he would marry
he's got his eyes on venus.
he will date her next.
© september 5, 2013
handmade lovewrite me a letter,handmade love in Free Verse More Like This
not emails or tweets.
blue pen scribblings
on sheets of paper crisp.
in five hundred words,
two pages and a half -
tell me you thought of me
on cigarette breaks.
go on foot to a post office,
paste the stamp yourself.
i shall be clouds away
expecting the mail truck.
february 28, 2012
Grow Up KidI feel alone lately,Grow Up Kid in Free Verse More Like This
lost and hurt.
I try to tell my friends,
but they turn it into a contest.
Who's life is worse?
I get it
there are other people out there
who have it worse then me.
Yet venting isn't self centered.
Or I don't think it is.
I want to go back,
to when I was 5.
When I didn't know,
what this kind of hurt is.
When I didn't lay awake in bed,
lost and confused.
But you gotta grow up kid,
two more years,
then you're on your own.
Grow up kid,
because everyone is blaming this on hormones.
QuestionsFor some reason I've been thinking,Questions in Free Verse More Like This
Who would I be
If no one ever influenced me?
Would I still like the music
that i apparently love
if none of my friends told me they like it?
Would I dress the way I do
if I went in an empty store alone?
Not knowing what was "in" and "out"
Would I have picked up writing,
if we weren't told to in class?
Instead would I go and dance?
Would I still love my favorite movie,
if my best friends didn't say it was theirs?
Would I love something totally different?
What would I be like,
if I didn't have people telling me
what they love and hate?
Do I just agree to fit in?
What did I do?Honestly I don't know what to think anymore,What did I do? in Free Verse More Like This
what parts of what I believe is really true.
Everyone is walking out the door,
I don't have a clue.
It makes me wonder,
about all the bad talk that could be going on.
If they bad talk the so called better people,
it makes me wonder all the bad they say about me.
What do they call me?
A bad friend? When I'm always there.
Desperate? When I only like one guy.
A downer? When I hide sadness around everyone.
A big mouth? When I listen to problems and not talk about mine.
These people are what I call "friends",
say they are there when they are not.
Luckily I still have a few friends,
that will help me to the end.
Poems Speak My ThoughtsI've been called pretty,Poems Speak My Thoughts in Free Verse More Like This
but they haven't been for me.
I've been called beautiful,
but sadly it wasn't by you.
Some days I feel,
you are the only one that cares.
Other times I'm a mess,
cause I think you could worry less.
Sometimes I wait to text you,
just to see if you miss talking.
Yet I can't wait that long.
I really like you,
and always have.
Yet when I had a chance,
I ran off with someone that treated me bad.
Probably after you read this,
you'll probably think I'm a crazy fool.
Then I may just have to get over you,
even if it's something I don't want to do.
I just don't want to lose a friend in the end.
The one in my lifeYou are my inspiration.The one in my life in Free Verse More Like This
The one that I think of,
just to become happy again.
I think of that smile,
that makes my heart go 100 miles.
I think of that laugh,
that makes me forget my past.
When you looked up at me,
it made me wonder,
what you could be thinking.
When we met eyes,
I swear I could fly.
That moment you gave me a hug,
I knew that you really do care.
You come around only to see me.
I'm just that lucky to have you in my life,
and to remember that special night.
What it Isn't, What it Ain'tBeauty isn't makeup.What it Isn't, What it Ain't in Free Verse More Like This
Beauty isn't paint.
Beauty isn't purchased.
Beauty isn't; it just ain't.
It's not a thing to be desired.
It comes all on its own.
Even if you have none, don't you worry:
Here is a secret not widely known.
Beauty isn't on the surface.
It's all on the inside.
This kind of pretty can't be faked,
Although many have tried.
It all depends: What's in your soul?
A princess or an ugly troll?
The qualities that you possess
(Like friendship, loyalty, truth, kindness)
Are what make you attractive.
Now go find your ever-after.
Hopea little girl stands on the corner ofHope in Free Verse More Like This
5th and main.
her shoes are tattered and torn
from the burden of service.
it's pouring rain, but she has an umbrella
(also quite a bit beat-up).
she looks up at the sky, raindrops splattering
on her face.
she wonders - as she has for a while - if any help will come.
but no, that's silly.
she's already seen too much
to believe in fairy tales.
the little girl searches the clouds a bit more,
then lets go of the umbrella.
the wind is so strong that immediately it's caught up and
just like a balloon.
she sits down
almost as if
that was her very last one.
Dog-Eared and FlimsyThis notebook has been a friend to me.Dog-Eared and Flimsy in Free Verse More Like This
A good friend.
It is to me what Nick Carraway was to Gatsby:
It is even a companion (of sorts),
One who sits quietly,
Waiting to listen to my many thoughts.
It is simply there for me, whenever I need it,
Asking nothing in return.
It is very precious to me.
It is my pride and joy.
Keep your modernized designer notebooks made of recycled paper -
I have this one.
It's as unique and aged as a mountain, and could never be replaced.
You may not understand our relationship,
But if you're a writer, you will.
Out of the pen spill the things of our soul,
With a little ink thrown in for good measure.
This unimportant little book
Will stay behind once I am gone.
I don't know what will happen to it, but I suppose it won't really matter, then;
Be it discarded, burned, regarded as nothing,
Dissolve into dust and whisper-fade into the past.
For what are the thoughts of just another human being?
WordsmithsTo all those who admire me, admire any authorWordsmiths in Free Verse More Like This
(simply for being a lunatic which in all tongues is called a writer):
There is something you must understand.
These words are not ours.
We did not create them.
They simply sit, waiting quietly in the dusty wings of our brain.
We are the directors of the play, telling the words where they must go, what message they must give to the audience, what they must represent.
The words, so quiet and compliant,
Impact others if we know how to use them skillfully.
For we are just hoping you will enjoy the show.
blue-birdThe only bright soulblue-bird in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Lies within all of our hearts...
It is yellow, soft.
It was crushed by some
When it just wanted to sing
Give it wings to fly~
Jenga Is a Dangerous GameJenga Is a Dangerous Game in Free Verse More Like This
Oh, please don't use words like "forever" and "always".
I get a little dizzy when you say them,
And my careful, precarious stack of hopes could fall down at any minute.
Though I don't and do wish you wouldn't,
You build it up, nourish it, make it grow
Each time you are kind to me.
Add a block for every smile.
Cause my heart to fly, my soul to sing;
Make me want to dance with you until the music ends...
But please, don't use words like "forever".
My tower is too tall, and I can't afford
To let it collapse on me, too.
CensorshipCross out the words that are screaming the mostCensorship in Free Verse More Like This
Everything that you need so badly, you deprive yourself of
Please do (and please don't)
I can't keep all these thoughts inside
(Let it be, you say.)
Sometimes I just want to explode
Flooding the world with these ideas,
these wild dreams
I don't care what you think.
I just need to let somebody know how I feel
You may pick yourself out of the rubble
when it's all said and done,
But as for me, I'll be dusting off my hands
putting them on my hips
Looking unashamed at everything
"Censor that, publishers."
Say Cheese.Hey, you can smile, right?Say Cheese. in Free Verse More Like This
Go ahead. Smile for us.
If you don't, people will complain you're depressed and ask questions.
So, come on. Lift the corners of your mouth (like this, see?) into a curved line. There we go. Nice and sweet. Kind of like those kisses he used to give you.
Next, say you're fine. Add more artificiality if they don't believe you. Hold back tears.
When the worrisome inquirer finally gives up and leaves, hide all feelings that may prove problematic.
The next day, wake up.
What Does 'Asylum' Mean? I wore my fuzzy socks for the same reason I remembered home. It was mostly for moral support.What Does 'Asylum' Mean? in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
They didn't match my outfit at all, striped blue and purple as they were. It looked as if I’d skinned James P. Sullivan himself. But no, I wasn't a killer. Not just yet. I’d have a lot of time to consider it, it seemed. It was really quiet in the new place where I lived. The walls were soft, and nobody came to talk to me anymore.
That is, besides the people in my imagination. Sometimes, I think they’re real, but they’re mostly just in my head. That’s why I never liked 3D movies. You can never tell what’s there and what’s not, and when you try and touch it, you just end up looking stupid. Though that’s no reason to take me away and put me here. I was just trying to figure out what it all meant. Well, I guess I don’t mind it now.
My mom only
First KissI look at you, I'm nervous as hell, hoping against hope that you'd kiss me.First Kiss in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The empty street, the soft porch light, your hazel eyes are all I can see.
You lean down slowly, gently, letting your soft lips brush against mine.
You do it again, again, and again... We completely lose track of the time.
On my toes, your fingers lost in my hair, my body moulding to fit yours perfectly.
You kiss my neck, my heart hammers away, your lips tasting like heaven to me.
I was eighteen and never been kissed, until you came along, weakening my knees.
With you it was perfect, as it should be... Would you kiss me once more, please?
TiredI'm tired. Just tired.Tired in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Tired of always crying myself to sleep
Sick of missing you so much each week.
Exhausted from pretending that I'm okay
Miserable from ignoring you every day.
I don't want to fight with you, no more,
This sorrow exhausts me to my core.
I'm sick of the tears, sick of the pain
I just want to feel normal again.
Pretending we're fine isn't working
I can't hide the fact that I'm hurting.
Please, stop fighting, pick up your phone
You know it's nobody's fault but your own.
She felt as if he had stolen her wordsShe felt as if he had stolen her words -She felt as if he had stolen her words in Free Verse More Like This
stolen them right from her poetic core.
For months she had been unable to write,
since she couldn't find a rhyme any more.
The "big reveal" had left her feeling raw
as she got lost in a labyrinth of memories.
His nonchalance, his inability to repent -
she was broken by this behaviour of his.
He acted like she was irrelevant, so small -
too small to deserve a heartfelt apology.
Anger, disappointment, sadness and pain
all prevented her from creating new poetry.
The proverbial shit had hit the fan,
destroying every obstacle in its way.
Her words were gone, he kidnapped them all;
she couldn't get them back, try as she may.
Her father had her words, words she needed,
but he did not seek to obtain her forgiveness.
She gave him another chance, he squandered it,
her words smothered by this emotional mess.
The words she needed to express her pain were gone:
The words she needed to explain why he was wrong.
Such A Noble ManI long to be able to do justice to you,Such A Noble Man in Free Verse More Like This
but my words fail to arrest your perfect form.
I'm powerless to the supremacy of your eyes so blue,
which smolder and burn deep into my private soul.
Your voice enchants me whenever you speak -
I devour your words with an insatiable hunger.
Your hands - oh, your hands - they make me weak
as they pirouette across the ivory piano keys.
I remain stunned at your immense equanimity
and how you are composed during a tempest quarrel.
You are a passionate lover, you captivate me,
eradicating my self-defense with your gentle touch.
How naïve I am, to think I am worthy to vindicate you;
my words are futile when describing such a being.
You are truly a man of veracity, respect and loyalty too -
the descriptions are incompetent with such a noble man
I don't understand honey...What?I don't understand honey... in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I don't know what you're talking about honey
When you go on and on about all the bad shit you see
Every word you speak is leaking
leaking of sorrow
leaking of pain
I don't see it like that hun'
'Cause all I see is the good times we had
I see your smiling face
'cause you beat me in this game too
I hear your laughter
and teasing words
as I'm being all silly again
I feel your arms around me
as you pull me closer
in a hug to make me feel safe again
'cause you've scared me with that spider-thing again
All I see is smiling faces and sparkle-eyes
All I hear is a laughing couple sharing the secret of love
All I feel is butterflies in the sky and the touch of your hand on mine
So when you speak of this so called "misery"
of all this pain
that you've carried for far too long
It breaks my heart you see
'cause I thought you were happy, too
What if I don't believe this bullshit?Baby...What if I don't believe this bullshit? in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
May I ask you something?
If I told you of my secrets, my worries
wouldn't you listen, wouldn't you help me?
If I hugged you tight and never wanted to let go
would you seriously look at me with disgrace?
If I kissed you
would you r
My secretLet me tell you a secretMy secret in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
So listen carefully...
if you take my hand
but let me lead
If you would just trust me
when I say I'm not like them
If you show me mercy
by wiping the tears of my cheeks when I'm sad
If you let me feel home, safe and protected
just hug me tight and never let go
If you would just have faith in me
Then I promise you one thing
I promise you will never ever have to be alone again
I promise you that love...
Haunted...A girl is walking in the empty corridor, but something is wrong. She walks a little too fast, she's a little too hesitated. It's making her stumble, making her jump away from something you wont see. Almost as if she's haunted.Haunted... in Emotional More Like This
A shadow strikes by. A glance of a stranger she once knew everything about. She closes her eyes, walking faster, trying to escape, trying to get out of here. But it's all in her head you see, it's all just for her, almost as if she's haunted.
Voices, laughter, a secret promise so filled with love, she can hear it all far too well. But it's only a little girl, so defenseless, so scared, in this empty corridor. Alone but still with the presence of something, almost as if she's haunted.
But then the feeling of a hug hits her. It hits her hard, she has to run. Few steps in panic. A few steps before she collapses on the floor, no one is there, no one is near. Only the memory of something which used to bring such joy, such peace. Now it only brings pain, pain 'cause it
What do you see?When you look into my eyesWhat do you see? in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
What do you see?
When you speak my name
When you pull me close
Are you really that broken?
So you no longer feel the love I give
The affection I show
Or the hope my eyes try to be
Come over here now
Tell me your truth
Show me those tears
And I'll tell you my truth
Show you my fears
I'll tell you about a girl
A girl who found hope in the most hopeless boy
Let me wipe the dripping sorrow of your cheeks
as I figure out what you need right now
Let me be the first person ever to be there for you
I'll tell you this story,
I'm sure you will appreciate it
the girl is cute and boy so strong
A happy ending too, just as it should be
Just as it will be
So come over here now
Crawl up into my arms
Let me listen to your heartbeat
so I can hear you be alive and healthy with me
and I'll let you listen to my calming voice
so you can relax and learn how to rely on someone
Then tell me, when you look into my eyes
what do you see?
A freezing mistakeMaybe I really was wrongA freezing mistake in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Maybe I was out in the cold for too long
but baby when you speak like that
When I'm the one thing you look at
When you touch me
as if you want me to see
how you've lost and found and then lost again
but with me there is no pain
I wanted it to be true so badly
It made me forget how to move carefully
So now it's my turn
to feel the burn
Yeah, I might have been wrong
but baby, you were the one out in the cold for too long
Will you fight?Please tell me you'll fight this fight for me?Will you fight? in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I need you to help me
I've realized now
I won't do this on my own
If you fall I'll fall with you
I'm that crazy bridge-jumping girl people should have warned you about
Now it's too late though
I reach out a hand
Asking you for this last favor
Will you help me up?
Will you keep on breathing with me?
Blood on the dancefloor!Bodies movingBlood on the dancefloor! in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
"Sorry I can't hear you darling
The music is too loud"
Soon I wont see you either honey
The silence my phone speak is killing me
piece by piece
Too bad boys
My heart is already taken
A dress tied up too tight
a heart slowly breaking into a million pieces
Someone must save me now
Something is cracking
Something is falling apart
Someone must take me away from here now
come on, take me by the hand
Oh what the hell
skip the sappy talk
just take the lead
and lead me out of this god forsaken house
Save me from myself
Save me from the cracking sound
It makes echos in my head
If you can save me only for that brief moment
Then let so be
let me escape that moment
But baby hurry up now please
I hear the heart breaking
It's scary as hell, can't you hear it?
If you wait now it'll all be too late
I can hear a heart cracking
I think the heart is mine!
Light turned into evilSince when did you become the devil?Light turned into evil in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Since when did light turn evil?
I'm running and running
running of panic
running of fear
nothing make the devil walk out of here
the chaos around me
it's all I can see
it's all I can hear
I need someone
I need someone to tell me
Try to be still
Don't move and I'll mend that broken vein
Just lay still for a little while...
Everythings is just a black hole of pain
What's the point then?
When the light in my life
The man who was supposed to be my savior
My own little angel
When the savior became the source of pain
The devil who haunts me
Is the same
as the one who keeps me alive these days...
You, yes you. I love you. Deal with it ... please?The first boy to take me by the handYou, yes you. I love you. Deal with it ... please? in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The first boy to say "Hey, your hands are too cold!"
The first boy to hear my silence
The first boy to really understand me
The first boy to see my scars, before I even knew it
The first boy to really get worried for me
The first boy to really feel me
Now I hope, with my shaky, cold hands
with all complicated little me
Now I wait, with all my problems
with my loud silence
Now I give you time, without knowing how that works out
without any insurances
Maybe I get my happy ending
At any case
I'll always love you
No, I don't care about your flaws and mistakes
I just love you.
And yes, I blame you and all your wonderfulness for it.
Deal with it.
The Stone MaidenOnce while in the wasteland wood,The Stone Maiden in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I came upon the one who stood
Forever cast in stone was she,
Amongst the trees for none to see.
She stood with chin still tilted high,
Defiance shining in her eye.
But she was trapped by witches' spell
And stuck inside a stony shell.
Love's first kiss could set her free,
And together we would be.
I never knew of who she was
but I could end her ceaseless pause.
So I crept close and caught her hand
Frozen still by cursed command
I held her hip within my grip,
And placed a kiss upon her lips.
The rise and fall of life began;
Across my jaw her fingers ran.
Rosy hue flushed up her cheek
She beamed at me, but didn't speak.
Then suddenly, the marshland swayed
Magic bade for prices paid.
The maiden held me close for fear
Of hidden crones that might be near.
But violent winds had knocked me back
Enchanted thorns and brush attacked.
My maiden screamed and cried for help
But no one heard her frantic yelps.
I found myself upon my feet
Bless the AngelsClouded with the swelling lightBless the Angels in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Of breaking summer dawn,
The sky is barely peeking
Through the early morning yawn.
Gladdened heights of tinted smoke
Lounge above the glade,
Watching idly all the ones
Who hum a hymn today.
The bells of silver and of brass--
They chime a tuneless song.
Reaching to the yielding fields
And calling home the throng.
There they go with books in hand
To slip through mighty doors.
They scurry over cobblestones
Like ev'ry week before.
They kneel and ask a blessing
From the patron of the day.
Then ask to be forgiven
For their callow, wicked way.
The preacher gives the sermon--
Sad and yet sublime.
But through the congregation
A person shyly winds.
A hand tugs on the preacher's robe
A clinch unto his tongue.
He bends and gives attention
To the speaker small and young.
She eyes the crowd of gazers,
And whispers in his ear,
a stretch of doubtful silence
which lingers on for years.
Then she hides behind the preacher,
Their fingers now entwined.
The preacher meets the
A Lonely SpiritA lonely spirit guiding from a far-off lonely cageA Lonely Spirit in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Made of stars and dreams and words,
Alive with endless age.
Waits the rising sun for fate upon divine decree
All depends upon His act
And what He wills to see.
Fear and Uncertainty"Abel."Fear and Uncertainty in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Deep brown eyes flicked to her as he twisted his neck, chin balanced on his shoulder to look at her. His eyes were startled at first, then confused, but they eventually settled into a calm brightness. He turned his body slowly to face her, hands moving lightly to hold the table he stood before.
She stood in the doorway, eyes hooded, regarding him with a practiced nothingness to them. Her own fingers wrapped around her arms, rubbing back and forth across her overlarge jacket.
"Cam," Abel said. "You didn't say you were coming." his eyes flicked back to the ground, as if he were ashamed to have said what he said. She watched him in the long, stretching quiet; she saw his throat bob as he swallowed.
"Didn't know I would be here," she explained. She took a slow step, shoes clipping hard against the floor as she got closer to the man standing so stiffly across the room. He didn't move except to clear his throat and duck his head, and she came to stop directly in front of him, hands s
Run Like Little MenApril showers bring May flowers;Run Like Little Men in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Summer brings delight.
Somber singing Winter brings,
of marchers to the fight.
Wander through the snow and frost,
and find the Dead Man's trail.
For to you, the Spring is lost
when coffin meets the nail.
You will never see the dawn
of blinking Summer sun.
Dead you'll be upon the lawn
unless you turn and run.
Run like little mice you are!
Run like little men!
Lest dead eyes stare at the stars
and battles rage again!
Listen Little Man for truth;
Tis best for you to flee.
For before there was a you,
ran ratty little me.
Strike the ChordSoothe the wicked soul inside.Strike the Chord in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Strike the chord; your son has lied.
Born of laughter, dying blind.
Play the chord, your son has lied.
Learn to live and play the note.
Colors bright and shredded coat.
Turn around and let them see
watch them bow to King of Dreams.
Son of Jesse save your babe,
Dead upon the seventh day.
Sadly wait and play your chord--
Sons are taken by the sword.
Counting stars above your head,
As much as ev'ry grain of sand
Evr'y single one is yours,
Except the one, so play the chord.
Weak in body, strong in soul,
Witnessed passing of the old.
Brought by fire to the lord,
Playing knowingly the chord.
Jedidiah, Loved by Lord,
Once you also played the chord.
Wise you were, but never well
Falling when the Temple fell.
Blest you've been with many gifts--
Wonders, miracles, and bliss
Never any hymns afford.
Please strike up and play the chord.
Though it is a lonely sound,
With bitterness and grief is crowned;
Deep within is something sweet
The Grave to the WindAging Draught who drifts across the westThe Grave to the Wind in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like a child warm against a mother’s rising breast,
Dips himself to wander with the weeds
And listen to the rattle deep beneath.
“We are roots,” a cry from deep within,
That reaches out to tangle with the wind.
He presses close within the earth to know
Who moans so deeply and so emptily below.
“We are roots –“ the barren rue of dust,
“rusting under buildings built to rust.
Where royals rest, there listen for the lull,
For they lie to say a cry was never cried at all.
BoxcutterWe areBoxcutter in Free Verse More Like This
in her hardwood apartment,
that we bought
because of the neighbors
and the windows
that light up
the dust on the floor.
She is kneeling
in front of
sliding the knife
down the sides
with a paper sound.
And I am staring
into the empty rooms.
If she pushed
into my lungs
the air would rush out
When you look at me
and bite your lip,
I see brown hair
and darker eyes.
And I would let her too
if it didn't
make such a mess
for the dust
and the neighbors
and the hardwood floor.
Glossi.Gloss in Free Verse More Like This
This is a poem
for lip gloss
and the pre-teen
who wears it
and the old woman
This is for
sparkle and stick.
For bodies like
For all the boys and girls
who would breath in
when the wick turned black.
Before their hair
turned grey with ash,
and their eyes fogged over
from the naked heat.
Before young love dies
and is buried in a shoebox,
with a little pile of rocks
to mark where it was.
This is for
the scared little boy
who spent all his time
While pretty girls
lay on autumn hills,
and even the crickets play
in major key.
With their noses
face down in the soil.
With their discarded jackets
on the grass, limp-
and making angels.
ImpatientIf you talk to anyone who waits at red lights or cares about fashion or owns a gun, they'll know a thing or twoImpatient in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
about all of us; all of humanity. We are all flowers, we are all little universes, we are all the underdog future.
And maybe this is completely true, and maybe some girl pierced her ear in the 8th grade bathroom, and maybe you
have sand in your shoes from that visit to the beach last week. What does it matter, is this an absolute?
We are all pieces of God, we are all forgetting about Heaven, we are all waiting politely for death to break in
through the bathroom window. You can ask the stains on the sidewalk, the birds who refuse to build nests, the
faded black hair on the barbershop floor. They will tell you that this all does matter, and if you care about your
children, it's an absolute, too. Sometimes I run through traffic lights, wear half-unbuttoned flannel and scoff
at the glory of firearms, but you can talk to me whenever you grab my shoulder and take a moment to stop s
Second SphereI found part of me by accidentSecond Sphere in Free Verse More Like This
in a Parisian cardboard box
with satin rags; purple ink
depicting people and clouds.
Tungsten from the wires
of lightbulb husks.
He kicked my hand when I pulled him out,
my fingers caught up in the blonde.
Here there are boys who count
the golden rings of Saturn,
and retinas that lick up the sunset.
Pictures of Japanese lanterns on the sea-crest
and swarms of orange fireflies.
Girls who do not dot
their I's with hearts,
and wait for iodine skies
with slow, dripping
An Infinite MomentThere is so much writingAn Infinite Moment in Free Verse More Like This
and music on our
death, our inescapable
we are fighting
and we deserve this.
It is not something
to dwell on,
or mourn ourselves
with cracked speech.
We are here for
each other, as
together we will
pray for rain.
He Tripped Out The Front DoorWrite a happy storyHe Tripped Out The Front Door in Free Verse More Like This
for once. She tells me.
he tripped out the
front door of his
for the last time.
That isn't happy,
But it certainly
So what could it
There was red on the trees
in early winter,
and you could hear laughter
if you thought it was there.
She tells me.
I could taste it
in my throat.
AgingWhen I walk on the curbsAging in Free Verse More Like This
of downtown, I can turn my head
and see my reflection
in the glass.
In the windows that stand guard
against the smoke
and the rain
and the winds.
I can see myself,
flickering between panes
as I move down the streets.
I can see myself,
waiting to grow old
and learning how to remember.
Drink DeepWe are not yetDrink Deep in Free Verse More Like This
dead, but the
have you believe
that we are dying.
We have rehearsed
the methods of our
We make muses
from nature and
from each other.
We assume, like the
canyon's high-water mark,
that the floods
will not come.
Who am I
to say that
this is false,
that we have
that hold us apart-
(we are ever so slightly
levitating off the ground
and from each other.)
And the streets protest
by rehearsing the methods
of our end.
When our blood
turns to alcohol
and the first thing
they see of us
is the white
of our bones.
(nothing)Sitting on this bus,(nothing) in Free Verse More Like This
I know that I am distinctly
I am the absence of this bus,
and the other passengers
There is some sort
of truth to this;
some sort of credence
that I can't
place my hands on.
(I am not the paper, only the folds
made by my fingers.
I am not the blankets,
only the indent left behind.
I am not the rain,
only the dry spots
marking the pavement.)
Even when I'm standing still,
I am not the air.
(I can only hold it in.)
Only NaturalSome would call this evil, but I find it entirely human to discover yourself alone with a stranger in theOnly Natural in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
supermarket isle and ponder how easy it would be to grab that glass jar of peanut butter with the blue
twist-off lid two shelves above you and mash their brains into jelly; only a psychopath would consider scraping up the resulting slurry with a saltine cracker as a souvenir.
An interesting case for the criminal justice department and the more visceral section
of the sociology department. Is it human to have such a fascination for the live feed snuff films that you seek
them out, that you search for their producers so you can interview and hold them? Is it human for couples to
play out roleplays, to wait for the kids to fall asleep, to tie her to the bed, to give him a knife? Is it evil
to search for violence, for war; or is this just all an aspect of humanity? Are you proud that she said she was 18,
are you proud that he left his country to rot, are you proud to be human? I am. Ev
obituary"He died, peacefully,obituary in Free Verse More Like This
in his sleep."
Tell me, how
can you possibly know that?
You don't know
what death is any more
than I do. How do you
know he wasn't
wide awake; thrashing and gasping
in the dark?
Hoping and praying - pleading
with fate - for just
a little while longer.
one more year so
that he can walk
his daughter down the aisle
and watch his son
one more year so
he and his wife - his childhood
sweetheart - can celebrate
forty years of marriage.
one more year so
he can escape the terror
that is death. But,
what do I know?
Someone else will be lying
upon me tomorrow - upon
the last resting place
of a dying man - and he,
the patient of yesteryear,
will be nothing
but a false memory
to soothe the loved ones
of those taken,
from my care.
SheThere is one aspect of human culture which has always surprised me to the point of amusement: you believe wholeheartedly, or so your many representations and adaptations of me would suggest, that Death is a man. Each time I collect a soul I cannot help but chuckle as they stare dumbfounded at the swell of a bosom beneath my robe.She in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
(A robe, I feel I should add, that is white and not black. My job can be miserable enough; I have no need to drape myself in such a drab shade.)
Fear not, reader. I am not about to bore you with a hearty feminist rant, it does not bother me never has and never will that my job has been assumed as a male role. After all, everything you think you know about me is wrong, so how can I take offence at something which is so far from me?
I must admit, I cackled most when I learned of the scythe I supposedly carry everywhere. Do you know how many people die within an hour? I would be worn out if I had to carry such a ghastly, heavy thing ar
The Devil's HourThere was an empty space in the blankets beside her and she shivered; cold and alone in the dark. Hand fumbling through the pile of food wrappers beside her pillow, she managed to find Damon's phone. 3:03am according to the screen, though she had to squint through her smudged eyeliner to read the digits; the brightness made her eyes water.The Devil's Hour in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She gently tossed the phone aside with a groan, hearing it rustle its way through the pile of rubbish, and dropped her face against her pillow. It was too late or early for this. Where had he gone this time?
Still half asleep, she stumbled from their makeshift bedroom, the bridge of her nose creasing against the smell of damp, and cursed when she stubbed her big toe on a protruding nail.
Next time they decided to squat somewhere, she was going to choose the place.
It was only a small house, and she soon found him in the little room