mary-elizabeth - Hello Poetry

I looked for you again today, Although you’ve disappeared. I swear that’s where I left you, But I can’t find you there. Someday, I might find you. In a place I didn’t know. But you must have gone away To the place where lost things go.

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Jun 18, 2024

Jun 18, 2024 at 11:43 AM UTC

mary-elizabeth

Where The Lost Things Go

I looked for you again today, Although you’ve disappeared. I swear that’s where I left you, But I can’t find you there. Someday, I might find you. In a place I didn’t know. But you must have gone away To the place where lost things go.

8

I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it---- A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a **** lampshade, My right foot A paperweight, My face a featureless, fine Jew linen. Peel off the napkin 0 my enemy. Do I terrify?---- The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath Will vanish in a day. Soon, soon the flesh The grave cave ate will be At home on me And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die. This is Number Three. What a trash To annihilate each decade. What a million filaments. The peanut-crunching crowd Shoves in to see Them unwrap me hand and foot The big strip tease. Gentlemen, ladies These are my hands My knees. I may be skin and bone, Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman. The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident. The second time I meant To last it out and not come back at all. I rocked shut As a seashell. They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls. Dying Is an art, like everything else, I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call. It's easy enough to do it in a cell. It's easy enough to do it and stay put. It's the theatrical Comeback in broad day To the same place, the same face, the same brute Amused shout: 'A miracle!' That knocks me out. There is a charge For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart---- It really goes. And there is a charge, a very large charge For a word or a touch Or a bit of blood Or a piece of my hair or my clothes. So, so, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy. I am your opus, I am your valuable, The pure gold baby That melts to a shriek. I turn and burn. Do not think I underestimate your great concern. Ash, ash --- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there---- A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.

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mary-elizabeth

Jun 2, 2021

Jun 2, 2021 at 2:53 PM UTC

Sylvia Plath

Lady Lazarus

I have done it again. One year in every ten I manage it---- A sort of walking miracle, my skin Bright as a **** lampshade, My right foot A paperweight, My face a featureless, fine Jew linen. Peel off the napkin 0 my enemy. Do I terrify?---- The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth? The sour breath Will vanish in a day. Soon, soon the flesh The grave cave ate will be At home on me And I a smiling woman. I am only thirty. And like the cat I have nine times to die. This is Number Three. What a trash To annihilate each decade. What a million filaments. The peanut-crunching crowd Shoves in to see Them unwrap me hand and foot The big strip tease. Gentlemen, ladies These are my hands My knees. I may be skin and bone, Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman. The first time it happened I was ten. It was an accident. The second time I meant To last it out and not come back at all. I rocked shut As a seashell. They had to call and call And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls. Dying Is an art, like everything else, I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call. It's easy enough to do it in a cell. It's easy enough to do it and stay put. It's the theatrical Comeback in broad day To the same place, the same face, the same brute Amused shout: 'A miracle!' That knocks me out. There is a charge For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart---- It really goes. And there is a charge, a very large charge For a word or a touch Or a bit of blood Or a piece of my hair or my clothes. So, so, Herr Doktor. So, Herr Enemy. I am your opus, I am your valuable, The pure gold baby That melts to a shriek. I turn and burn. Do not think I underestimate your great concern. Ash, ash --- You poke and stir. Flesh, bone, there is nothing there---- A cake of soap, A wedding ring, A gold filling. Herr God, Herr Lucifer Beware Beware. Out of the ash I rise with my red hair And I eat men like air.

84

I told myself I would be better tomorrow Wake up Achieve Told myself I would be more human Less shadow Live I told myself I was worth it To succeed Rejoice Told myself I could do it Still lost hollow

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Apr 16, 2020

Apr 16, 2020 at 12:55 AM UTC

mary-elizabeth

Self Motivation

I told myself I would be better tomorrow Wake up Achieve Told myself I would be more human Less shadow Live I told myself I was worth it To succeed Rejoice Told myself I could do it Still lost hollow

12

The forest rains on me While I gently stroll filling my lungs painting me yellow The forest rains on me Green ornaments on silky threads Cascading fans from the tree tops Shedding pollen threads on my head

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Apr 16, 2020

Apr 16, 2020 at 12:50 AM UTC

mary-elizabeth

The Forest Rains on Me

The forest rains on me While I gently stroll filling my lungs painting me yellow The forest rains on me Green ornaments on silky threads Cascading fans from the tree tops Shedding pollen threads on my head

8

I am what you love Only when I’m what you want. Losing me For you.

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Feb 29, 2020

Feb 29, 2020 at 10:15 PM UTC

mary-elizabeth

What I Am

I am what you love Only when I’m what you want. Losing me For you.

4

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on that sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

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mary-elizabeth

Jun 22, 2017

Jun 22, 2017 at 1:16 PM UTC

Dylan Thomas

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on that sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

19

I've borrowed your tears. Stolen from your word, your fears. To fill this hole, Deep in my soul. My brain tells me to feel, But is any of this real.

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Jun 22, 2017

Jun 22, 2017 at 1:15 PM UTC

mary-elizabeth

borrowed words

I've borrowed your tears. Stolen from your word, your fears. To fill this hole, Deep in my soul. My brain tells me to feel, But is any of this real.

6

I loved you. Once upon a time. I would like to think You loved me too. It's over now. As are we. No tears are shed 'Cause we had fun. I loved you. Once upon a time. And I would like to think You loved me too.

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Jun 8, 2017

Jun 8, 2017 at 2:03 AM UTC

mary-elizabeth

Upon a time

I loved you. Once upon a time. I would like to think You loved me too. It's over now. As are we. No tears are shed 'Cause we had fun. I loved you. Once upon a time. And I would like to think You loved me too.

12