Ivory - Hello Poetry

It has nothing to do with them, it is the birth of love which has no direction, no body in which to be contained Once the source has smeared its face. You are overwhelmed with love and you are alone. You are overwhelmed with a love you must restrict and compel to shrink back into your stomach. This is a crucifixion. This process is excruciating.

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Apr 15, 2021

Apr 15, 2021 at 8:16 PM UTC

Untitled

It has nothing to do with them, it is the birth of love which has no direction, no body in which to be contained Once the source has smeared its face. You are overwhelmed with love and you are alone. You are overwhelmed with a love you must restrict and compel to shrink back into your stomach. This is a crucifixion. This process is excruciating.

6

sometimes I wish that I could get out of here, away from the dead thud of your approach. You remanifest with a mouth full of flat line, nothing’s changed. A man with the same nature about him, the same engorged rhetoric toward life I wished to bury in my garden long before. A wound in the backyard, untraceable and unremarkable. Not of my heart but of Her Red Sea in which you reside now Only as blood. Buried along with my naked, along with my softness and my victim. When all this is over, don’t look at me and expect to see the same person.

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Apr 10, 2018

Apr 10, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC

Her Red Sea

sometimes I wish that I could get out of here, away from the dead thud of your approach. You remanifest with a mouth full of flat line, nothing’s changed. A man with the same nature about him, the same engorged rhetoric toward life I wished to bury in my garden long before. A wound in the backyard, untraceable and unremarkable. Not of my heart but of Her Red Sea in which you reside now Only as blood. Buried along with my naked, along with my softness and my victim. When all this is over, don’t look at me and expect to see the same person.

12

Heart soaked and singed in lilac overtones A tall tale; a castle cloaked in white diamond An illusion deep enough to move its marble body, He reaches out to me But it’s not enough. It’s too much. Your red cherry cheek pressed on myth, On vitality, a story throbbing, falling, fleeting. Legs wide, breast open. I lie naked on blue sheets And you are here And you are present But still I roam for you. Still sit in boats daylight going further out And even more Until I’m lost.

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Jan 15, 2018

Jan 15, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC

Untitled

Heart soaked and singed in lilac overtones A tall tale; a castle cloaked in white diamond An illusion deep enough to move its marble body, He reaches out to me But it’s not enough. It’s too much. Your red cherry cheek pressed on myth, On vitality, a story throbbing, falling, fleeting. Legs wide, breast open. I lie naked on blue sheets And you are here And you are present But still I roam for you. Still sit in boats daylight going further out And even more Until I’m lost.

17

When faced with rotting extremities, Twist, snap and scream of agony, When locked into to your anxiety, Stomach full on deepest fear. Remember, my darling, That you are strong, That you are brave, And always have been.

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Jan 10, 2018

Jan 10, 2018 at 4:58 AM UTC

Untitled

When faced with rotting extremities, Twist, snap and scream of agony, When locked into to your anxiety, Stomach full on deepest fear. Remember, my darling, That you are strong, That you are brave, And always have been.

8

Narcissists are the anomaly, The inexplicable sixth kind - The bend and snap of neurology, The frequency turns horizontal, And pulsates to vent, it stops - And somewhere in the wound (bend) Something cannot heal (snap!)

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Jan 6, 2018

Jan 6, 2018 at 5:41 AM UTC

The Continuum

Narcissists are the anomaly, The inexplicable sixth kind - The bend and snap of neurology, The frequency turns horizontal, And pulsates to vent, it stops - And somewhere in the wound (bend) Something cannot heal (snap!)

7

The dragon and I swoon Beneath the evening glow, And find critters on which Our love bestow - We kiss the tarot And tilt the wine - And from his flame The dragon sings, *"Love is choosing, And we've made our choice. We break our own hearts, And liberate ourselves.*"

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Nov 12, 2017

Nov 12, 2017 at 10:03 AM UTC

Me & The Dragon

The dragon and I swoon Beneath the evening glow, And find critters on which Our love bestow - We kiss the tarot And tilt the wine - And from his flame The dragon sings, *"Love is choosing, And we've made our choice. We break our own hearts, And liberate ourselves.*"

12

I wonder if fire can burn so hot it turns white, And your heart begins transmutation, An involuntary, unauthorized transition, From something familiar, to something alien, And you are all together mystified. *You rely too much on the kindness Of those known to be unkind*.

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Nov 7, 2017

Nov 7, 2017 at 2:22 AM UTC

Involuntary

I wonder if fire can burn so hot it turns white, And your heart begins transmutation, An involuntary, unauthorized transition, From something familiar, to something alien, And you are all together mystified. *You rely too much on the kindness Of those known to be unkind*.

7

Once it started opening up, Like a wound, the pearl sheen of skin deepening into a red As rare as the perfect rose And just as treasured. Bones dense around my heart And lock themselves in place. Stifling the voice - two beats - The third one silent. The fourth, The fifth, The third. You are my arms outreached but selfish, Hands open but stiff, Palms red.

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Oct 31, 2017

Oct 31, 2017 at 3:12 PM UTC

Red Palms

Once it started opening up, Like a wound, the pearl sheen of skin deepening into a red As rare as the perfect rose And just as treasured. Bones dense around my heart And lock themselves in place. Stifling the voice - two beats - The third one silent. The fourth, The fifth, The third. You are my arms outreached but selfish, Hands open but stiff, Palms red.

15

Savvy boy bite that tongue in half, Are you at a loss for words? Do you ever regret it, being a coward? I could never write a love letter, I’m too cynical – too sadistic, I could be your darling, sweetheart Get dressed up for you every Friday night, I could trap myself in a telephone root, Get ****** and try not to think about it. But I could never be a coward.

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Aug 22, 2017

Aug 22, 2017 at 4:50 PM UTC

Untitled

Savvy boy bite that tongue in half, Are you at a loss for words? Do you ever regret it, being a coward? I could never write a love letter, I’m too cynical – too sadistic, I could be your darling, sweetheart Get dressed up for you every Friday night, I could trap myself in a telephone root, Get ****** and try not to think about it. But I could never be a coward.

9

His movements are subtle, A sweet illustration, A still from a classic film She could never quite forget, Although she never spoke about it. "How does it feel?" He asks. "It feels **** and all you can do is wait it out. I've always thought about it like returning to myself, as if she's sitting somewhere in a garden, waiting for me. A vibrant figure amongst forgotten orchards, light blue hands immersed in the greenery, humming a tune once familiar to me, But somehow distant now. One that existed before I began to think of myself in multiplicity, before she manifested as separate from me." There is glitch in the scene and for a second he dissolves, and then reappears. He touches her cheek, and smiles. "Then what are you doing here with me? With this illusion? I manifest time and again as the same man, to exhaust your skin, to grab you with both hands and then discard you, and yet you always return to me, and not her." I pick up my things and walk away, I hear him humming as I walk, a tune I could recite off by heart.

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Aug 18, 2017

Aug 18, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC

Light blue hands

His movements are subtle, A sweet illustration, A still from a classic film She could never quite forget, Although she never spoke about it. "How does it feel?" He asks. "It feels **** and all you can do is wait it out. I've always thought about it like returning to myself, as if she's sitting somewhere in a garden, waiting for me. A vibrant figure amongst forgotten orchards, light blue hands immersed in the greenery, humming a tune once familiar to me, But somehow distant now. One that existed before I began to think of myself in multiplicity, before she manifested as separate from me." There is glitch in the scene and for a second he dissolves, and then reappears. He touches her cheek, and smiles. "Then what are you doing here with me? With this illusion? I manifest time and again as the same man, to exhaust your skin, to grab you with both hands and then discard you, and yet you always return to me, and not her." I pick up my things and walk away, I hear him humming as I walk, a tune I could recite off by heart.

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