Largeness
It’s a mighty fine word
Until today, that is
That is, today as in society (nowadays)
We are
“encouraged”
To be small.
Small waist
Small nose
Small arms
Tiny brain
They can’t handle this muchness
This lushness
They’re afraid of our size
The history of our hills
And mountains of skin
Lofty mountains
A landscape to make an artist sing.
But as they shove us into our
Small shirts
Skinny jeans
Tiny shoes
They forget that this size, this extra-largeness
Cannot be contained.
We’re busting out of here.
We’re claiming our space with our
Large feet
Large *******
Huge hips
Our love handles and our lard
Fear our stature
Our sweetness
Our ****** wiles
Our swagger
We are deep people
Large women.
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 12:01 PM UTC
It hurts to love
To draw deep from the well
Of another’s spirit
To mix your own sweat with their
Sweetness
And taste
Something no one imagined
Together
Entwined
My hand still enthralled with yours
Even here
Even now
On this sickbed
I am nauseous with this viris:
The thought of losing you.
Soon I will be nothing but
bruises and holes
…
I ............. I...............I
am.......... am.......... am
sick......... sick......... sick
of.............with
fear......... fear
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:59 AM UTC
We have always had small smiles to give each other
Small smiles which betray nothing
Nothing but our hearts.
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:58 AM UTC
do you remember me?
I Am your cancer cell
malignant
malicious
buried
gorging
i am
your own poison
toxic to you
Alone
(“drink me,” it whispers)
peruse galleries of obscurity
nothing is right
i am
a kiss from your villain
a door with a crack
(letting darkness in)
a hesitant glance
a viscera-viewing mirror
and
remorse
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:58 AM UTC
I’ve Realized
Friends are
Complex things
or
Transparent things
A dragonfly wing
One layer with which
One shows you
One facet of
One face
Can you hear me if I don’t exist?
hhmmmmmmmmmmm
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:57 AM UTC
In that moment, just before despair
Words form their own unique cadence of light
That moment before literature and belief
(the literature of belief)
Where the light dawns
Even if just a spark
These things that change
An influx of influence
Fragments of thoughts and memories
(smell of the sea
Shining gold-spun tresses)
That fickle muse
A vessel of feathers
Expectations of things to come
How do you capture it?
How do you keep it?
How do you hold
Inspiration?
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:56 AM UTC
She sits in a red dress
That shows more of herself than she’d like.
She’s happily, newly married, but only for a while
Once the week is done she’ll hang up her dress
And sigh.
She waited for the unicorn
And has seen many ***** pass by.
She has seen the *** inside herself.
I linger, as in the night, as
Ghosts of arms surround me, as
they sigh and scream,
*In the clearing, the moon wanes soft as it greets the grass salted with tears
I reached out my hand, and -
I almost touched it. *
“Hold on, hold on, wait for him
He is coming.”
I’ll stay no longer in this star-scarce company.
The roots of celestials have buried themselves in my heart
And galaxies have formed in my mind.
I find myself shooting amid suns.
*The unicorn turned into an ***
Before I could pull my hand away.
I am burned. *
I am left waiting.
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:55 AM UTC
Greyblue overwhelms my eyes
as fog and cloud covers the sand
Stretching beside me
I step forth, leaving family behind
Lost in wonder.
Salt intoxicates, tempts my nostrils
Enticing my feet forward
The coarse sand grows soft
As it greets the water,
Melting at its touch
- my toes relish the taste-
Natural
Water rushing around me
Below me
Through me
Rising as I willingly sink in
The endless ocean hypnotizing me
Like the sirens it holds, singing to
The voyager within
A voice, now not so sweet
Stern, concerned, worried,
-motherly-
Calling me back, forming
Crossroads to my young mind
Amphibious
A tadpole
Drawn between reality and - safety?
Pulled back
The sand chafes my skin
As I walk back to the world I know so well,
And the future that remains a stranger.
Jul 9, 2011
Jul 9, 2011 at 11:54 AM UTC
“I touch their cardboard faces”
That voice, a heavy voice
(a mother-sister voice)
Telling me to find meaning in faces
I cannot see
I cannot experience.
Yet, imagination runs wild
In circumstances thus.
I see memories of faces
That once I knew,
Once I experienced,
But that now have become motionless, processed,
Stills of a memory
That will never be real.
Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 4:38 PM UTC
Eyes dripping blue
What loaded words!
Tears forming pools in which
Hard-handed men examine their own
Namelessness.
Their place in this world
Is drowning amid the waters
Of a well-wrung soul.
That name, that identifier
Will never capture her.
Eyes, lipid pools of starlight
Mixed with the blue grey of a dolphin’s back
Swimming in the storm of her irises
Those flowers that bloom
In the milky white of tainted purity
which hold a black hole in their round chests
Swallowing soul and spirit indistinguishable
Apr 28, 2011
Apr 28, 2011 at 4:35 PM UTC