Archives for posts with tag: poem

It’s Tuesday on Friday

black birds fall from the sky

rain drops the size of dinner plates too

I’d rescue you if you needed

I tried to climb a boulder once

it took three summers

I made it up

I made it up

should’ve learned then that victory highs are quick

While my shadow stays

dark slow endless

because how you say ‘yes’

and what you don’t say

is as important as the looks

you threw at me

every single day

I spiral

I spiral

the biggest mistake we all make

is believing that things will stay the same

I grow older

and more invisible each day

with more stories to tell

and fewer people who will listen

I can’t hear when your eyes hurt

Do they hurt?

The tigers need life vests

they are more scared than you’d imagined

(fuck off

leave me alone)

 

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It’s the end of season

walking outside of the hospital

I feel the lost ghosts

buzzing under trees

her cat died

so crow friends gather

I don’t have a key

I don’t even know what it looks like

but you’ve got a place to put me

where you know

you’re better

and prettier

and smarter

that way

you’ll know where to find me

where to cut me

the gifts you give drop in my lap

drop from your mouth

like vomit from last nights whisky

only the glasses you’ve stolen

have heard your lies and believe them

wading through mud has made our capes filthy

the last light is red

signaling

all the bird eggs inside of me

have rotted

in the heat of my blood

 

Lamb

Left eye invisible

Right eye grew a little plant

crusted over in the night

green and white

She took his fragile lamb when he came to her

Someone had to take care of him

No bra under her white tank top

confident and embarrassed at the same time

At the bottom of the stairs

line of men waiting for more to drink

All the gentle moments

She hid away

dinner with friends

wondering how to show up

She drifts

and dreams of Nina Simone’s knees

Bees

She turned to face the doorway

filled with bees

on the other side

people that don’t stop at signs

She’s the one who’d free the moth from the curtain

He’s the kind that would trap it

She asked all the broken girls to come along

She wouldn’t leave them behind

She likes fountains of music

knows it’s time to let go of blame and neglect

She’s spicy and has a spine that you envy

She wants the curve of your heart

the edge of your wings

the smoke in your eyes

the plume of your hair

to speak from the bear

be in love like wolves

lie under blueberry bushes

Later you’ll find her

walking in the middle of streets

seeing everything with meaning

again

for the first time

beneath talkative rain

Curse 

Standing on death

cutest curse

she ever felt

was in a sleep

under a planet

gifting souls

who mate

by fate

no frills

no tickets

little people

blocking

making her wait

twists of dough

sweetened cake

warm her insides

not her heart

pulsing wit

handstands in sand

everything lands

under an unkept tattoo

Poem D

Four merging quickly woke me urging me to get this down

Tap tap tap in the night

I heard John Lennon singing with a fading Beatles background and the song went,  “Thought I saw a thought pass but I didn’t stop to catch it because I thought that it would last”

Whispers of I don’t have time to see you, I won’t be seeing  you

But I missed you before I knew you were here

and

I’ll miss you while you’re here and continue missing you when you’ve gone

Small robots took over her mouth and talking tounge so we all set out on boats to offer our support

Sometimes

Beachy polaroids flipping in my fingers

Did you see I took photos as I kissed the sand and next I kicked it in your direction?

Room

Left a delicate

room

without saying goodbye

one of her least favorite things

Mother,

show your love

but only with an audience

sunsuits at sundown

a tiny girl

bleeding barnacle skin

ignored

learns to ignore

parts of her heart

nested herself in

her own arms

to believe

her own eyes

away from the cliff’s edge

and hungry honey colored lions

“Everyone goes away,”

she repeated to herself

the birth

the milk

the life

had the wrong number of doors.