cjs - Hello Poetry

The hell to come… Lucille Harrow drowned herself and they forgot… She would’ve been the mother he needs… Evening tides lick at docked boats, silhouettes in the night working softly, wet wood, time is lost and they’re paid in ***** I cover my face, the sound of strangers filtering by hushed and hurried… “The streets stay empty most of the day”… A woman out at sea, heavy with care, she’ll sink to the bottom of the ocean… “My air is my own I don’t want you ******* breathing it”… I’m alone. Aspirations and motivation sinking to the bottom of a bottle. The moon is too tired to rise and so am I… They pinned you down with rope and words and you bore those marks forever… The boat rocking a lullaby, thoughts aimed at the interstellar, the darkness thick so I inhale… Still masts litter the shoreline, still bodies fill the mind… The boss pays in ***** and the deck hands drink in solitude, in defiance homeopathic… A woman with a heart too full… “She would have been the mother he needs”…

0

Dec 28, 2015

Dec 28, 2015 at 2:52 AM UTC

cjs

Low Light, Moonlight

The hell to come… Lucille Harrow drowned herself and they forgot… She would’ve been the mother he needs… Evening tides lick at docked boats, silhouettes in the night working softly, wet wood, time is lost and they’re paid in ***** I cover my face, the sound of strangers filtering by hushed and hurried… “The streets stay empty most of the day”… A woman out at sea, heavy with care, she’ll sink to the bottom of the ocean… “My air is my own I don’t want you ******* breathing it”… I’m alone. Aspirations and motivation sinking to the bottom of a bottle. The moon is too tired to rise and so am I… They pinned you down with rope and words and you bore those marks forever… The boat rocking a lullaby, thoughts aimed at the interstellar, the darkness thick so I inhale… Still masts litter the shoreline, still bodies fill the mind… The boss pays in ***** and the deck hands drink in solitude, in defiance homeopathic… A woman with a heart too full… “She would have been the mother he needs”…

1

I run my fingers along your spine as you lay Curled — weeping. That house is no longer home and my heart has no vacancies. She needs put down like an aged canine whose poor health and deterioration constantly remind that love dies with age And we move on.

0

Aug 10, 2014

Aug 10, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC

cjs

—

I run my fingers along your spine as you lay Curled — weeping. That house is no longer home and my heart has no vacancies. She needs put down like an aged canine whose poor health and deterioration constantly remind that love dies with age And we move on.

10

Flats $10 Red, sweet, lemon $1.60 City lights are far away As my lungs fill with soil and seeds

0

Aug 10, 2014

Aug 10, 2014 at 5:48 PM UTC

cjs

;

Flats $10 Red, sweet, lemon $1.60 City lights are far away As my lungs fill with soil and seeds

4

A locomotive Floating down the tracks singing in falsetto Flashes of skin against skin erratic breathing Blinding calcification of desire The sound of eggshells cracking, of bare feet on tile flooring Laughter Not mine Frequent idealizing, projecting The soft whirr of a washing machine and her lips pressed against my own The click of a disposable camera and shoes scraping against gravel Embrace intertwine enveloped by her being intimacy that puts the world in stasis A locomotive Floating down the tracks Singing in falsetto

0

May 26, 2014

May 26, 2014 at 10:23 PM UTC

cjs

//

A locomotive Floating down the tracks singing in falsetto Flashes of skin against skin erratic breathing Blinding calcification of desire The sound of eggshells cracking, of bare feet on tile flooring Laughter Not mine Frequent idealizing, projecting The soft whirr of a washing machine and her lips pressed against my own The click of a disposable camera and shoes scraping against gravel Embrace intertwine enveloped by her being intimacy that puts the world in stasis A locomotive Floating down the tracks Singing in falsetto

20

synapses firing sleep, so smooth, is lost carpet stained, walls talk voices cleave, claw, claim a love has been found infer: ephemeral, impermanent believe: indelible, predestined bruised knuckles knock, knock, knock and one rock, rock, rocks back and forth "the moon," he calls her the moon; he claims her a world lies between The sea is deep but he can swim.

0

Feb 5, 2014

Feb 5, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC

cjs

~

synapses firing sleep, so smooth, is lost carpet stained, walls talk voices cleave, claw, claim a love has been found infer: ephemeral, impermanent believe: indelible, predestined bruised knuckles knock, knock, knock and one rock, rock, rocks back and forth "the moon," he calls her the moon; he claims her a world lies between The sea is deep but he can swim.

14