ga_be - Hello Poetry

once, there was a bird inside my house blue tailed and yellow bellied not big enough to be much of anything at all i had to hold it in my hands to let it out it was so light i couldn’t feel anything but its taloned feet digging softly into my palms and perhaps the sharpest parts of ourselves make the only impression that lasts.

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Jul 6, 2020

Jul 6, 2020 at 12:54 PM UTC

ga_be

where can i put it down?

once, there was a bird inside my house blue tailed and yellow bellied not big enough to be much of anything at all i had to hold it in my hands to let it out it was so light i couldn’t feel anything but its taloned feet digging softly into my palms and perhaps the sharpest parts of ourselves make the only impression that lasts.

8

I read somewhere, a girl saying she couldn’t die with a messy room. My bin is full My socks aren’t paired There’s cups on my desk leaving rings There’s probably something in the wall Eating crumbs I leave in crevices What will happen to it, once I’m gone? Who’s going to stay awake listening to it scratching if I’m not there? Who’s going to balance the cups precariously down the stairs Who’s going to line my shoes against the ottoman Tuck the sheets in Who will empty my bin? How embarrassing, how embarrassing I cannot die with a messy room There’s books half-read and stories half-told And t-shirts I have yet to fold There’s things in the fridge I’ve yet to eat And papers that aren’t lined up neat And there’s things I haven’t thrown away And things that I have yet to say And emails I have yet to write And candles I have yet to light So death must wait another night, another night, another night I cannot die with a messy room No matter how peaceful my little tomb I have things to do, things to do, things to do I cannot die with a messy room.

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Jun 9, 2020

Jun 9, 2020 at 11:16 AM UTC

ga_be

Can you distort my voice when I say this?

I read somewhere, a girl saying she couldn’t die with a messy room. My bin is full My socks aren’t paired There’s cups on my desk leaving rings There’s probably something in the wall Eating crumbs I leave in crevices What will happen to it, once I’m gone? Who’s going to stay awake listening to it scratching if I’m not there? Who’s going to balance the cups precariously down the stairs Who’s going to line my shoes against the ottoman Tuck the sheets in Who will empty my bin? How embarrassing, how embarrassing I cannot die with a messy room There’s books half-read and stories half-told And t-shirts I have yet to fold There’s things in the fridge I’ve yet to eat And papers that aren’t lined up neat And there’s things I haven’t thrown away And things that I have yet to say And emails I have yet to write And candles I have yet to light So death must wait another night, another night, another night I cannot die with a messy room No matter how peaceful my little tomb I have things to do, things to do, things to do I cannot die with a messy room.

27

i have a box full of apples and i give them without looking i never look down the apples seem endless the box unravels forever in my mind and then my hand scrapes the bottom nails on gritty wood, clawing up dust finally i look and the emptiness looks back years pass like this and i carry my body around like an appleless crate and people ask me for fruit and i give them splinters i break off panels from the box its all i have to give i grip the last sliver of wood, it digs in i walk forever, but i know one day i will collapse in an orchard one day i will look up at the open sky and my stomach will be full.

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Apr 18, 2020

Apr 18, 2020 at 7:09 AM UTC

ga_be

crate

i have a box full of apples and i give them without looking i never look down the apples seem endless the box unravels forever in my mind and then my hand scrapes the bottom nails on gritty wood, clawing up dust finally i look and the emptiness looks back years pass like this and i carry my body around like an appleless crate and people ask me for fruit and i give them splinters i break off panels from the box its all i have to give i grip the last sliver of wood, it digs in i walk forever, but i know one day i will collapse in an orchard one day i will look up at the open sky and my stomach will be full.

19

there was a gate with a lock and a nice metal fence and a wall made of brick and a tower made of stone there was fire underneath barbed wire underneath this was my home with a sign underneath ‘trespassers will be shot’ ‘survivors will be shot again’ but there was a pick in the lock and a hole in the fence a ladder at the wall made of brick there was a tiny wooden door at the base of the tower and the fires had burned it up quick the footprints were ****** all up the stairs a cloying smell of smoke, and ruddy burnt hair and i knew you were coming, i knew you were coming i could hear you crossing the floor and nothing had stopped you before and how could i turn you away? when nothing had lead you astray when everything, everything, everything had only ever caused you to stay and i suppose i could run and build it again start with my gate and my lock but i knew you would follow with a pick and a ladder and a smile like an adder and i knew this time you wouldn’t knock.

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Apr 16, 2020

Apr 16, 2020 at 1:09 PM UTC

ga_be

fortitude

there was a gate with a lock and a nice metal fence and a wall made of brick and a tower made of stone there was fire underneath barbed wire underneath this was my home with a sign underneath ‘trespassers will be shot’ ‘survivors will be shot again’ but there was a pick in the lock and a hole in the fence a ladder at the wall made of brick there was a tiny wooden door at the base of the tower and the fires had burned it up quick the footprints were ****** all up the stairs a cloying smell of smoke, and ruddy burnt hair and i knew you were coming, i knew you were coming i could hear you crossing the floor and nothing had stopped you before and how could i turn you away? when nothing had lead you astray when everything, everything, everything had only ever caused you to stay and i suppose i could run and build it again start with my gate and my lock but i knew you would follow with a pick and a ladder and a smile like an adder and i knew this time you wouldn’t knock.

31

they say time convalesces though, i have doubt i don’t think time can fix this not the infinite, not the eternal not the unending black ribbon of it all the clocks will all stop before this feeling leaves me the mountains will turn to rocks the oceans will turn to deserts the earth will freeze over a thousand times the sun will melt everything, the sun will burn it all away the great tides of time will drown me before this feeling leaves me and it will be the last thing to leave me when my eyes close and my heart stops and my mind fires its last when my skin is gone from me, when my insides are gone from me when my bones erode like a sweet in a warm mouth this feeling will leave me only then when there is nothing left when my body collapses in on itself like the sun i hope you are given more mercy i hope you lose this feeling like people lose pencil sharpenings i hope you forget me like people forget cups of tea i hope this feeling washes off of you in the shower i hope you close your eyes and it dissipates like a bad dream i hope you can hold me on your eyelashes, i hope i am weightless i hope you can blink without noticing, i hope i don’t make you tired i hope you can carry the memory of me without remembering me at all, i hope you can talk about me without recalling my name i hope you can walk through this world without reminders of me without the shadow of me over everything without my colours tinting anything i hope i haven’t stained you the way you stained my mouth red, haven’t darkened you the way you darkened me i hope you flourish, i hope you grow, i hope all of my ill wishes of you in the past perish i hope this darkness leaves me first i wish you only the light.

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Jan 30, 2020

Jan 30, 2020 at 8:18 AM UTC

ga_be

i want to tell you this story without having to be in it

they say time convalesces though, i have doubt i don’t think time can fix this not the infinite, not the eternal not the unending black ribbon of it all the clocks will all stop before this feeling leaves me the mountains will turn to rocks the oceans will turn to deserts the earth will freeze over a thousand times the sun will melt everything, the sun will burn it all away the great tides of time will drown me before this feeling leaves me and it will be the last thing to leave me when my eyes close and my heart stops and my mind fires its last when my skin is gone from me, when my insides are gone from me when my bones erode like a sweet in a warm mouth this feeling will leave me only then when there is nothing left when my body collapses in on itself like the sun i hope you are given more mercy i hope you lose this feeling like people lose pencil sharpenings i hope you forget me like people forget cups of tea i hope this feeling washes off of you in the shower i hope you close your eyes and it dissipates like a bad dream i hope you can hold me on your eyelashes, i hope i am weightless i hope you can blink without noticing, i hope i don’t make you tired i hope you can carry the memory of me without remembering me at all, i hope you can talk about me without recalling my name i hope you can walk through this world without reminders of me without the shadow of me over everything without my colours tinting anything i hope i haven’t stained you the way you stained my mouth red, haven’t darkened you the way you darkened me i hope you flourish, i hope you grow, i hope all of my ill wishes of you in the past perish i hope this darkness leaves me first i wish you only the light.

35

I get déjà vu like I’ve lived another life Like I’m in slumber and someone is calling I wake from sleep Dragging figures through with me from the dreamscape They stand in my room They reach for my face I walk into rooms and forget why I’m there I forget what I’m saying while I’m speaking it By the time I find a pen to write it down, the thought is gone I lose words like people lose pencils, lose paperclips The ghost of reality eludes me My mind warps my time here Everything solid turns into smoke I jump at nothing I scare easily My heart races with nothing to cause it No love, no predator, no ounce of a thrill It runs for no reason, cries wolf While I stand in empty fields and see nothing Have a bought this with me, too? Have I dragged this through the veil from another existence? Have I wondered through the gates with my past lives rattling behind me Like cans strung to matrimony What was done to me, there, in the lineal stream behind me? What enticed this fear? What chased me in the past? What hunted me then that haunts me now?

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Dec 27, 2019

Dec 27, 2019 at 9:35 AM UTC

ga_be

Advigilo

I get déjà vu like I’ve lived another life Like I’m in slumber and someone is calling I wake from sleep Dragging figures through with me from the dreamscape They stand in my room They reach for my face I walk into rooms and forget why I’m there I forget what I’m saying while I’m speaking it By the time I find a pen to write it down, the thought is gone I lose words like people lose pencils, lose paperclips The ghost of reality eludes me My mind warps my time here Everything solid turns into smoke I jump at nothing I scare easily My heart races with nothing to cause it No love, no predator, no ounce of a thrill It runs for no reason, cries wolf While I stand in empty fields and see nothing Have a bought this with me, too? Have I dragged this through the veil from another existence? Have I wondered through the gates with my past lives rattling behind me Like cans strung to matrimony What was done to me, there, in the lineal stream behind me? What enticed this fear? What chased me in the past? What hunted me then that haunts me now?

27

21 they say it in different incredulous tones /twenty-one/ i don’t feel it i feel the inverse the mirror opposite i feel twice as old, i feel twice as young i am exhausted, i’ve barely begun i feel sage-weathered and child-naive jaded-bitter and hopeful-eyed i shift between the extremes like a planet with no true north like a compass in gravitational flux like a weathervane in a storm i feel as though i should be uneasy like an anxious figure is due a visit as though i am too settled who gave this calm to me? is this what the years bring with it? is this the reward for living this long? this bone-tired weariness - knowing you’ve gone through hardship, knowing you will again knowing what is to come can’t possibly be worse than what has come before but knowing it will try it’s damnedest anyway? i am no longer surprised when things are difficult that is now the default, will nothing be easy ever again? is the standard set, the bar raised, the difficulty set to highest? will it be exponential? will i unravel further? do i have anything left to give? with everything the years have taken from me - is it never enough? how much further? how much longer? when can i finally rest?

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Nov 27, 2019

Nov 27, 2019 at 11:10 AM UTC

ga_be

XXI

21 they say it in different incredulous tones /twenty-one/ i don’t feel it i feel the inverse the mirror opposite i feel twice as old, i feel twice as young i am exhausted, i’ve barely begun i feel sage-weathered and child-naive jaded-bitter and hopeful-eyed i shift between the extremes like a planet with no true north like a compass in gravitational flux like a weathervane in a storm i feel as though i should be uneasy like an anxious figure is due a visit as though i am too settled who gave this calm to me? is this what the years bring with it? is this the reward for living this long? this bone-tired weariness - knowing you’ve gone through hardship, knowing you will again knowing what is to come can’t possibly be worse than what has come before but knowing it will try it’s damnedest anyway? i am no longer surprised when things are difficult that is now the default, will nothing be easy ever again? is the standard set, the bar raised, the difficulty set to highest? will it be exponential? will i unravel further? do i have anything left to give? with everything the years have taken from me - is it never enough? how much further? how much longer? when can i finally rest?

32

my hips are wide-set healthy, life-bearing, soft enough to set a child upon to check drawers shut in the kitchenette my lips are a full, ruddy pink perfect to keep pursed in a thoughtless silent pout to be kissed when opened my ******* shape me into an hourglass a treble clef in a red dress my hair is now long enough to draw back from my face long enough for a mans work roughened hands to run through too bad i will crop it short again the second i see the sharp gleam of scissors too bad the only hands that will ever touch me will only ever be as soft as my own too bad i wrap my chest in gauze until my shirts lie flat too bad i will not be silent, will draw blood if you come close enough to my teeth too bad i will never miss a moon of blood until my body no longer has any more blood to give too bad i will not be consumed by the mouths of the underserving, and the only life my body will serve shall be my own.

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Sep 4, 2019

Sep 4, 2019 at 7:23 AM UTC

ga_be

m-i-n-e, mine

my hips are wide-set healthy, life-bearing, soft enough to set a child upon to check drawers shut in the kitchenette my lips are a full, ruddy pink perfect to keep pursed in a thoughtless silent pout to be kissed when opened my ******* shape me into an hourglass a treble clef in a red dress my hair is now long enough to draw back from my face long enough for a mans work roughened hands to run through too bad i will crop it short again the second i see the sharp gleam of scissors too bad the only hands that will ever touch me will only ever be as soft as my own too bad i wrap my chest in gauze until my shirts lie flat too bad i will not be silent, will draw blood if you come close enough to my teeth too bad i will never miss a moon of blood until my body no longer has any more blood to give too bad i will not be consumed by the mouths of the underserving, and the only life my body will serve shall be my own.

17

like crows flock old farm houses we belong crookedly you belong crookedly to me like broken bottles lined up on the ruins of a wall like pennies at the base of fountains like abandoned buildings underwater like old churches reclaimed by the forests i wrap my ivy around your bricks and drag you into the earth i flood the malls and old pool houses and the glass ceiling caves in i rust the surface of you until no one else can read your worth i line you up and aim true in great plumes of black feathered ****** i stand in the fields and wait for you.

0

Mar 10, 2019

Mar 10, 2019 at 3:53 PM UTC

ga_be

effigy

like crows flock old farm houses we belong crookedly you belong crookedly to me like broken bottles lined up on the ruins of a wall like pennies at the base of fountains like abandoned buildings underwater like old churches reclaimed by the forests i wrap my ivy around your bricks and drag you into the earth i flood the malls and old pool houses and the glass ceiling caves in i rust the surface of you until no one else can read your worth i line you up and aim true in great plumes of black feathered ****** i stand in the fields and wait for you.

14

a feeling haunts me like a shadow of love, the bare traces of it like some poor imitation, a figure in a mirror like crumbs left in a trail into the woods and if i follow, the trees will darken round me my bare feet will pad across the forest floor the moonlight hounds me and if i find your cottage in the woods somewhere know i will try not to come in know i will sit out in the rain for as long as i can know your fireplace will call to me know your singing in the kitchen will draw me know i will press my knees into the sodden earth and beg myself not to go in know that i will, anyway, when i can no longer bare it know that i will hate myself, ardently, for weakness know that i will love you, hopelessly, forever.

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Aug 15, 2018

Aug 15, 2018 at 4:22 PM UTC

ga_be

i found something in the woods somewhere

a feeling haunts me like a shadow of love, the bare traces of it like some poor imitation, a figure in a mirror like crumbs left in a trail into the woods and if i follow, the trees will darken round me my bare feet will pad across the forest floor the moonlight hounds me and if i find your cottage in the woods somewhere know i will try not to come in know i will sit out in the rain for as long as i can know your fireplace will call to me know your singing in the kitchen will draw me know i will press my knees into the sodden earth and beg myself not to go in know that i will, anyway, when i can no longer bare it know that i will hate myself, ardently, for weakness know that i will love you, hopelessly, forever.

17