domthecurlyful - Hello Poetry

I dreamt of smashed fairylights. Trying to weave through the shards sparkling piercing, it was night but light outside. The sheets tangled my limbs, hot mind, in little bits Scrape it up. Scrape me up.

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Aug 20, 2014

Aug 20, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC

Untitled

I dreamt of smashed fairylights. Trying to weave through the shards sparkling piercing, it was night but light outside. The sheets tangled my limbs, hot mind, in little bits Scrape it up. Scrape me up.

11

You slept and I crept into that new room And curled into the sleeping bag Because it was crisp outside. It wasn’t light yet. And the ghosts on the bridge didn’t know that I could see them.

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Jan 10, 2014

Jan 10, 2014 at 6:12 PM UTC

27 Wellington Quay

You slept and I crept into that new room And curled into the sleeping bag Because it was crisp outside. It wasn’t light yet. And the ghosts on the bridge didn’t know that I could see them.

8

The raining brings rememberings of different beds in different rooms of hard floors and soft arms of cold nights but warm hands The pattering against the swish of tents and slanted, slated roofs and slipping down windows and tips of noses The feeling of raining of Warm and of Safe The raining brings rememberings and coldness and pain It will never be the same again.

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Nov 8, 2012

Nov 8, 2012 at 7:19 PM UTC

The Pains of Rain

The raining brings rememberings of different beds in different rooms of hard floors and soft arms of cold nights but warm hands The pattering against the swish of tents and slanted, slated roofs and slipping down windows and tips of noses The feeling of raining of Warm and of Safe The raining brings rememberings and coldness and pain It will never be the same again.

13

Wrapped in your wool with that will in your eye She's firm but she's gentle she loves you it hurts breakfast eight sharp then lunch at half-twelve you come down for your tea and the Angelus bells We ran in bare feet over stones and the thorns that was cross-country running in County Clare I look at them now sandaled and layered your walking-frame smiling in the glare I can't understand your need for the news news is at eight, nine, ten and eleven lunchtime news and more at seven News at nine before you sleep a paper a day and the radio beep I know, we grow and you can't remember if it's me or I'm her or we're seventeen You know that's it's raining and there's war over there so you hold on to that but how much do you care? It's not your fault. your papery hands clasped in your little lap It's too fast and it spins and it spins and we are spinning away I'm trying to hold on to hold you I help you up I sit you down I can't help with this I'm sorry gran.

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Sep 11, 2012

Sep 11, 2012 at 5:25 AM UTC

Una

Wrapped in your wool with that will in your eye She's firm but she's gentle she loves you it hurts breakfast eight sharp then lunch at half-twelve you come down for your tea and the Angelus bells We ran in bare feet over stones and the thorns that was cross-country running in County Clare I look at them now sandaled and layered your walking-frame smiling in the glare I can't understand your need for the news news is at eight, nine, ten and eleven lunchtime news and more at seven News at nine before you sleep a paper a day and the radio beep I know, we grow and you can't remember if it's me or I'm her or we're seventeen You know that's it's raining and there's war over there so you hold on to that but how much do you care? It's not your fault. your papery hands clasped in your little lap It's too fast and it spins and it spins and we are spinning away I'm trying to hold on to hold you I help you up I sit you down I can't help with this I'm sorry gran.

45

The boxes are piling against the door, my clothes are strewn across the floor, each fold holds the shadow of a time with you every thread the touch of your skin you smiled when I wore this dress It lies balled up in a bag, tight crumples, violently creased the creases, and crumbles and crying I am wringing the tears from my heart I am crying my love and it won't leave me I am twisting it and it still will not tear it sits in that bag tightly crumpled.

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Aug 26, 2012

Aug 26, 2012 at 1:30 PM UTC

All these empty days

The boxes are piling against the door, my clothes are strewn across the floor, each fold holds the shadow of a time with you every thread the touch of your skin you smiled when I wore this dress It lies balled up in a bag, tight crumples, violently creased the creases, and crumbles and crying I am wringing the tears from my heart I am crying my love and it won't leave me I am twisting it and it still will not tear it sits in that bag tightly crumpled.

16

My brain! Oh my brain. It's the words, the words I don't know, it's my fingers that won't help. I can't express, like a mother's milk from her breast, these words sour inside me, because I don't know them and I need them My feelings will make me insane, I will rip out my heart and my brain and this throat with a ******* lump so I can't even speak Speak! And even if I speak I can't connect the speak with the think and the feelings slink in and slide all over my brains my brains It's red and red and blue and grey grey.

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Aug 17, 2012

Aug 17, 2012 at 7:18 PM UTC

Wordless

My brain! Oh my brain. It's the words, the words I don't know, it's my fingers that won't help. I can't express, like a mother's milk from her breast, these words sour inside me, because I don't know them and I need them My feelings will make me insane, I will rip out my heart and my brain and this throat with a ******* lump so I can't even speak Speak! And even if I speak I can't connect the speak with the think and the feelings slink in and slide all over my brains my brains It's red and red and blue and grey grey.

23

Here I lie where we once lay, My thoughts my own, and me alone. You once curled around my back almost twice curled I was so small in your arms Your head against the curve of my neck And me safe as safe, soft, with you, the protective shell. I sit here alone. My body clenched, coiled, with all this pain All of you around me And none of you truly there. I press my hands against my arms, trying to make my own shell, but it just reminds me of how yours used to feel.

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Aug 17, 2012

Aug 17, 2012 at 7:12 PM UTC

The Remembering

Here I lie where we once lay, My thoughts my own, and me alone. You once curled around my back almost twice curled I was so small in your arms Your head against the curve of my neck And me safe as safe, soft, with you, the protective shell. I sit here alone. My body clenched, coiled, with all this pain All of you around me And none of you truly there. I press my hands against my arms, trying to make my own shell, but it just reminds me of how yours used to feel.

19

You wanted to ask would he promise not to leave you too, and add, that is was okay, you understood, even though it wasn't, and you didn't. But you stop yourself, this is progress, you think. This is what is means to be healthy, and not to be sick, your words like spores, taking root in the minds of your friends, in his mind, and then he cuts you off, like mould on bread. So you keep swallowing, and your throat is tight, and the crease between your eyes, and above your nose is giving you a headache. This is progress. This is moving on. This is what it means to be happy with yourself. I am happy with just me, you say, and your smile like a **** across your face.

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Aug 11, 2012

Aug 11, 2012 at 6:07 PM UTC

Pressing

You wanted to ask would he promise not to leave you too, and add, that is was okay, you understood, even though it wasn't, and you didn't. But you stop yourself, this is progress, you think. This is what is means to be healthy, and not to be sick, your words like spores, taking root in the minds of your friends, in his mind, and then he cuts you off, like mould on bread. So you keep swallowing, and your throat is tight, and the crease between your eyes, and above your nose is giving you a headache. This is progress. This is moving on. This is what it means to be happy with yourself. I am happy with just me, you say, and your smile like a **** across your face.

23

The fears that keep me awake at night made me nightmare through that day up up Little bubbles clustering up in my brain 'til they spilled as tears from my eyes. But my brain was still full so I looked at you and you knew You put the pain in my throat twice that day, once when you looked away. We spoke and we spoke and we spoke and my voice was dead. I said what are words? Words. What are words? and you cried. I thought I was wiping my tears from your cheeks, I thought they were mine. And then I knew you were scared. So I held you. You put the pain in my throat twice that day, twice when you gave way Our cheeks that our cleansed by our tears of today will rub against eachother tomorrow because you cried.

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Apr 13, 2012

Apr 13, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC

because you Cried.

The fears that keep me awake at night made me nightmare through that day up up Little bubbles clustering up in my brain 'til they spilled as tears from my eyes. But my brain was still full so I looked at you and you knew You put the pain in my throat twice that day, once when you looked away. We spoke and we spoke and we spoke and my voice was dead. I said what are words? Words. What are words? and you cried. I thought I was wiping my tears from your cheeks, I thought they were mine. And then I knew you were scared. So I held you. You put the pain in my throat twice that day, twice when you gave way Our cheeks that our cleansed by our tears of today will rub against eachother tomorrow because you cried.

25

There is nothing in my head. There is fluff in my stomach and heavy on my heart. My eyes are full of wet and my lips are falling down. I am not what I want to be. I am disappointed in me. I cleaned the house and I ate my lunch and everything is still empty. But at least it is clean. I am trying not to turn on the tv, it will rot my brain. It will rot your brain and make it empty and you will never get away and you will be stuck there forever. I think it is too late. It is too late for everything, because the oven is clean but I don’t plan on baking and the shower is clean but I don’t feel like washing. And I don’t have any money but I keep on shopping. Oh Shakespeare, you’re boring me. If I just finish this scene than I can paint my nails. Reading and rereading, I did not take that in, I do not know who you are or what you are saying because you are speaking backwards. If I just go outside than there will be loud. My ears will be full; I will concentrate on my face and not on words. Then it will be time to make dinner and I will make dinner in the clean oven and then I can watch tv because it will be night. Soon I will have to go back. They will be there, with all their productivity and glowing and talent. You will think I am shy but it is that I have nothing in my head. There is nothing in my head. It is all in my heart. I will go to sleep and wish it were the opposite.

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Nov 7, 2011

Nov 7, 2011 at 12:46 PM UTC

Untitled

There is nothing in my head. There is fluff in my stomach and heavy on my heart. My eyes are full of wet and my lips are falling down. I am not what I want to be. I am disappointed in me. I cleaned the house and I ate my lunch and everything is still empty. But at least it is clean. I am trying not to turn on the tv, it will rot my brain. It will rot your brain and make it empty and you will never get away and you will be stuck there forever. I think it is too late. It is too late for everything, because the oven is clean but I don’t plan on baking and the shower is clean but I don’t feel like washing. And I don’t have any money but I keep on shopping. Oh Shakespeare, you’re boring me. If I just finish this scene than I can paint my nails. Reading and rereading, I did not take that in, I do not know who you are or what you are saying because you are speaking backwards. If I just go outside than there will be loud. My ears will be full; I will concentrate on my face and not on words. Then it will be time to make dinner and I will make dinner in the clean oven and then I can watch tv because it will be night. Soon I will have to go back. They will be there, with all their productivity and glowing and talent. You will think I am shy but it is that I have nothing in my head. There is nothing in my head. It is all in my heart. I will go to sleep and wish it were the opposite.

14