hollobee - Hello Poetry

In this dance I don't care If you think you lead or follow. Like your simultaneous presences in my Head Bed & Heart, My two feet encounter both Split between realms My arms embrace their own weight in various currencies It's tallied in my brain How each piece of clothing peels, falls, or floats away Dexterously And how the floor does not discriminate From your cream adorned with curls And your café con leche But I never hear the fall Like leaves shedding in an anti-gravity zone Preventing finality Just so we can slip back into our skins effortlessly With four eyes shielded, Blindly clutching creeds through winter So as I purposelessly push last night's leftovers aside for tomorrow's, I am satisfied that my shelf stays full And my floor unstained.

0

Jan 20, 2016

Jan 20, 2016 at 4:19 AM UTC

Six Feet

In this dance I don't care If you think you lead or follow. Like your simultaneous presences in my Head Bed & Heart, My two feet encounter both Split between realms My arms embrace their own weight in various currencies It's tallied in my brain How each piece of clothing peels, falls, or floats away Dexterously And how the floor does not discriminate From your cream adorned with curls And your café con leche But I never hear the fall Like leaves shedding in an anti-gravity zone Preventing finality Just so we can slip back into our skins effortlessly With four eyes shielded, Blindly clutching creeds through winter So as I purposelessly push last night's leftovers aside for tomorrow's, I am satisfied that my shelf stays full And my floor unstained.

25

You are the boy-hood That my girl-hood desires. We are a true-love story that may very well never transpire. For years, under my nose I know you've always been. But when I discover your moss growing under my stone You turn right back over again. Oh how I long to press my cheek to your velvet curling sweet, dark and cold, while fingers pine for mutual warmth; An attempt at what the future could hold. Still soundlessly honey drips, sticks between your silent speaking eyes and my dry lips. The perfect spaces where forbidden fruit grows inevitably decays--look, darling -- Our branches have welcomed the caws of the crow.

0

Sep 14, 2014

Sep 14, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC

--In the end

You are the boy-hood That my girl-hood desires. We are a true-love story that may very well never transpire. For years, under my nose I know you've always been. But when I discover your moss growing under my stone You turn right back over again. Oh how I long to press my cheek to your velvet curling sweet, dark and cold, while fingers pine for mutual warmth; An attempt at what the future could hold. Still soundlessly honey drips, sticks between your silent speaking eyes and my dry lips. The perfect spaces where forbidden fruit grows inevitably decays--look, darling -- Our branches have welcomed the caws of the crow.

18

Isn't it funny? Not the "HA-ha" hilarity, But still. Isn't it funny? How we don't laugh anymore, how when I hear your little snicker it turns my heart to cold blood, how your echoing emptiness chills my already numb flesh to my strongest bones? Isn't it funny? How the hollowness possesses you, hurls all the light right out to dissipate the warm smile greeting you, so all that remains are little shards of teeth in my gaping black hole of a mouth? Kiss me. Isn't that funny?

0

Sep 14, 2014

Sep 14, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC

Isn't it Funny?

Isn't it funny? Not the "HA-ha" hilarity, But still. Isn't it funny? How we don't laugh anymore, how when I hear your little snicker it turns my heart to cold blood, how your echoing emptiness chills my already numb flesh to my strongest bones? Isn't it funny? How the hollowness possesses you, hurls all the light right out to dissipate the warm smile greeting you, so all that remains are little shards of teeth in my gaping black hole of a mouth? Kiss me. Isn't that funny?

17

Scarlet hot river emanation Dried itself up Ultraviolet white hot is Even still an understatement of the ringing in my aching cotton stuffed ear canals, echoing overrated nostalgia pathetically recounting the first **** and only of my youth. (If you don’t count those apathetic fishes) You are the clumsy, left hand shot That somehow occurred at the right place And wrong time A grotesque tear through an unlucky beating vessel of space so soundlessly Bursting through A time where blush derived from shame But now completely overwhelming adulterated glances intent on sending every bit of sincere air Hurling out of your lungs so that a poisonous pining may refill those Antlers with tokens of times first And flowers on the grave Of the color pink.

0

Sep 14, 2014

Sep 14, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC

The Color Pink

Scarlet hot river emanation Dried itself up Ultraviolet white hot is Even still an understatement of the ringing in my aching cotton stuffed ear canals, echoing overrated nostalgia pathetically recounting the first **** and only of my youth. (If you don’t count those apathetic fishes) You are the clumsy, left hand shot That somehow occurred at the right place And wrong time A grotesque tear through an unlucky beating vessel of space so soundlessly Bursting through A time where blush derived from shame But now completely overwhelming adulterated glances intent on sending every bit of sincere air Hurling out of your lungs so that a poisonous pining may refill those Antlers with tokens of times first And flowers on the grave Of the color pink.

19

Thick silence invades ears that ache for fulfillment as I unwrap your skin draped with unspoken words ran thin. My fingertips tremble with expressionless angst while Identical intensities unravel astrological blue ribbons Cooing sweet dividends, divine in a simple letter Two chambers apiece for each, For my heart has unwillingly become a fetter

0

Sep 14, 2014

Sep 14, 2014 at 3:34 PM UTC

"Letters"

Thick silence invades ears that ache for fulfillment as I unwrap your skin draped with unspoken words ran thin. My fingertips tremble with expressionless angst while Identical intensities unravel astrological blue ribbons Cooing sweet dividends, divine in a simple letter Two chambers apiece for each, For my heart has unwillingly become a fetter

8

I tried to make pasta salad for dinner but my "healthy" pasta was spoiled. The only little critters known to man that are able to microscopically sneak in to prepackaged wheat have won again. So I settled. I figured I'd make up for my starchy negativity by using "veganaise", but, of course, it tumbled out of the fridge that day in my absence And shattered. ....So I settled. Cleaning the kitchen behind my half-satisfying yet I- ate-too-much-of it anyway meal shattered my glass across the tile, Persistent tiny shards just jutting from the grout like my bruised confidence after trying to clean my soul of the filth that holds me hostage. As of today I've gone without car insurance for a month I've been absent from school because my attendance is hard-wired to my lack of a functioning.....wallet. I got caught in the rain this evening wondering how long I've got before defeat catches me by more than a single strand hair, drowning me in a thunderstorm of uncontrollable emotion, pattering and piercing my consciousness so hard that when I finally got indoors, I approached my filth with open arms of surrender-- soaked, sitting, And settled.

0

Jul 15, 2014

Jul 15, 2014 at 9:52 PM UTC

The Most Uninteresting Story of Defeat

I tried to make pasta salad for dinner but my "healthy" pasta was spoiled. The only little critters known to man that are able to microscopically sneak in to prepackaged wheat have won again. So I settled. I figured I'd make up for my starchy negativity by using "veganaise", but, of course, it tumbled out of the fridge that day in my absence And shattered. ....So I settled. Cleaning the kitchen behind my half-satisfying yet I- ate-too-much-of it anyway meal shattered my glass across the tile, Persistent tiny shards just jutting from the grout like my bruised confidence after trying to clean my soul of the filth that holds me hostage. As of today I've gone without car insurance for a month I've been absent from school because my attendance is hard-wired to my lack of a functioning.....wallet. I got caught in the rain this evening wondering how long I've got before defeat catches me by more than a single strand hair, drowning me in a thunderstorm of uncontrollable emotion, pattering and piercing my consciousness so hard that when I finally got indoors, I approached my filth with open arms of surrender-- soaked, sitting, And settled.

34