Stubborn rays --
the sunlight stays
on the bridge of your nose,
and the apples of your cheeks.
I could count them for days
but I’d rather stay, in the morning, lay
beside you and look up at them
like they’re constellations.
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC
Man
Started as a baby who watched killing on TV.
Whose childhood was Uncle Sam and the ROTC.
Took turns being cowboy and Indian, finger guns
Hunting with dad, rifles and handguns
But nothing could prepare him for the way that blood runs
From the lips of a friend
He left at 18
Couldn’t seem to grow a beard.
Didn’t matter when he was covered in jungle mud from ear to ear.
Kool Aid and biscuits
It sounded like a dream
Living indoors.
Working on machines.
But what the cargo brought back
Demanded to be seen
Bags upon bags hoisted on backs
Swung around like jump ropes
Among the soldier’s jumping jacks
Every beating moment a guilt-filled flashback
The blood from the lips of an enemy or friend
Reddening the mud, trickled to no end
A gun on his side
Who was fighting who?
The roles were unclear
Muddied and hazy, orange and dark blue
No need for TV. The war’s in his mind.
Engraved in his eyelids.
Pace, panic, grind
Is he a man? Can he ever grow old?
If his life is just one story that keeps getting told
Child.
Man.
Nam.
- Vietnam
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 5:55 PM UTC
self-love
How can I love mine
The curves, the lines,
The rolls, the wrinkles,
When she and her and them
Can never love theirs?
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
fill your pockets with warmth
and take a deep breath of air
I’ll be waiting with my nose pressed ‘gainst the window
trying to feel all I can through the thick glass.
Wiping the smudges with my frayed, worn sleeve
And thinking myself outside
When you come home, I’ll open the lock from the inside
and jump up and down, up and down
Embracing you to feel the sunshine
And feeling wind as you kiss my cheek.
- outside
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 5:52 PM UTC
I wish I could say your words bounced right off
My back as I walked past
That the fear and humiliation
Barely even lasts
I wish I could say I wasn’t fazed at all.
And that my own pride made me tall
But alas, I was small
When you whistled, I froze.
When you threatened to grab me,
My heart raced
My stride did not deepen
My steps were fast-paced
I pulled my jacket across my chest
Ducked into a store and hoped for the best
And when I got home I could not rest.
Because your words did not bounce back
They sunk into my skin
They filled my ears and blurred my sight
And made my whole world spin
I didn’t say anything.
But not because I felt strong.
I didn’t say anything
Because I was scared of you being strong
Grabbing me like you said.
Becoming Hurt, Traumatized, Dead.
And I may not have bruises but I feel it in my head
A lingering sense of dread
Keeping me awake in bed
I feel it when I dress in the morning
And am careful about what I wear
Where I go
Wearing me down slowly
Your words are not the first.
But they hit me the worst.
I could feel your eyes ********** me
As you leaned against the wall
Sexualizing a little girl
Who was barely 5 feet tall
Your words mean nothing to them
and everything to me.
Dec 24, 2018
Dec 24, 2018 at 5:50 PM UTC
Giggles. Does this count?
Slide, mix, arrange each neatly
Double-letter word.
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 9:20 PM UTC
light rain on these shaking hands,
shower the earth below,
ease the darkness of our heartland
repose—if only to forgo.
Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 7:38 PM UTC