I write him in my sentences,
I write him in my diary.

I print him on pages,
I print him on stories.

I carve him on stones,
I carve him in designs.

I sketch him in my moans,
I sketch him in my mind.

I etch him in tattoo,
I etch him on woods.

I sculpt him in statues,
I sculpt him into the man he stood.

I inscribe him on ripples,
I inscribe him on the swirl of my wine.

I draw him in circles,
I just can draw the line.

i wish that i could.
Sarina
Sarina
Aug 13, 2013

I have watched mothers lose
their children, and children lose their mothers. I am tied
by my toes to a loop
which can be seen in cafes and morgues -
the breast-feeding, the burying, the everything is all
on a string. I have heard about
women and children thinking they are unlimited,
I am unlimited, too, if
the two ends of a circle never meet.
My lover once closed his heart off from everyone, and I
never understood until now
that you do not
have to open up in order to be full inside. I still can
water his flowers, even the weeds
and he never has to open his eyes to see and
he never has to open his heart
to feel. I understand that sometimes it is better to just be.

Circumference thou Bride of Awe
Emily Dickinson

1620

Circumference thou Bride of Awe
Possessing thou shalt be
Possessed by every hallowed Knight
That dares to covet thee

A poet set upon pushing the limits of poetry
is condemned to push the limits of some people's patience.
Fuck 'em.

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When Cogs—stop—that’s Circumference
Emily Dickinson

633

When Bells stop ringing—Church—begins
The Positive—of Bells—
When Cogs—stop—that’s Circumference—
The Ultimate—of Wheels.

The circumference
Spelz
Spelz
Nov 19, 2013

The Dimensions
     of her heart.

The circumference
       of her soul...

Circumference
Emily Dickinson

883

The Poets light but Lamps—
Themselves—go out—
The Wicks they stimulate—
If vital Light

Inhere as do the Suns—
Each Age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference—

Circumference hemmed in
Jagush
Jagush
Nov 9

Foreboding in the Green

Wet cobbled cobwebs
Circumference hemmed in
All-out hampering threads
And stones that missed Mary Magdalene

Oh, and so luscious and lush is the green
Dewy petals weeping they can’t caress my skin
Wrapped up in rushing hopes, buoyant buds exploding
Fluffy breezes prance, ignorant of the foreboding

Sticky sharp spiders’ snare
Circumference hemmed in
A cut-out smile shrouding the glare
Icicles that missed Mary Magdalene

womanity surpressed
The minute Circumference
Emily Dickinson

967

Pain—expands the Time—
Ages coil within
The minute Circumference
Of a single Brain—

Pain contracts—the Time—
Occupied with Shot
Gamuts of Eternities
Are as they were not—

 
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