I’m in love with your
interrupted thoughts,
trails lost and forgotten.
I walk with you to their ends—
When you blow off the gathered dust,
the sunlight catches it
gently in trembling hands;
glistening listless moments, suspended,
lingering in your breath
like I first did at your door.
The western sky spells your name,
but nomad memories pick up tents,
faces turn to sand.
You haven’t changed at all...
My fingers walk the deepening trails
in your sunset hands.
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
i will hide with you in the dark
basement corner, shivering arms
when the ceiling is closing in
when the sounds, the sounds come i will
search for them, carefully
i cannot hear them, but i know
i know the kitchen utensils
will find their way through your skin
i will cook breakfast for you
Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
i followed your words to the edge
floating, fluttering, they dance easy
and butterfly shy on the wind
they comfort me
on my way down.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
i've broken out
i've fallen away
i felt lighter before but i
feel heavier these days.
i can live without the sun, it seems
but only my darker parts survive—
my duller parts—
i set fire to my intellect
just to keep warm.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 7:11 PM UTC
True love is a broken cane, duct-taped
a Barbie, head twisted back
It is silence in a crowd
clothes snagged on branches
a blindfolded walk in rush hour
the sweet taste of antifreeze
Love is the worst poetry
Love is nothing, everything
probably the only thing
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 6:17 PM UTC
waking up on a Wednesday—
a Day stranger to live than spell
iced tea doesn't make enough sense.
blue shoes glued with Shoe Goo
makes old shoes more new
but not much more or less than Crap.
i've got Things to-day to do—
paint the walls, save the World,
and dream of Alan Rickman.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
i spit metaphors
and stumble to my knees,
i wipe similes from my lips
like blood and teeth.
i am pummeled with irony fists
as i stagger and crash
across barstools in anapest reels,
with splinters of broken
clauses enjambed in my flesh
and choppy flashbacks
blinding me, pounding my head.
i slip in spilled spirits,
scrabbling and scrambling
to steady my psyche.
i flail, i falter, i fall,
again and again in alliterative agony.
this is not a beating.
this is catharsis.
Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 5:45 PM UTC
he's made it to the leaping-off place
it was a beautiful stroll up
and the wind
makes hair feel free.
he's made it to the leaping-off place
the sky tides the wispy white dreams
of faraway things
but the ponderous rote
of the dirt
binds him and bids him delay.
and he writes—
*life looks so good in green, friend
a feet-light frenzy in polychromatic feelings
white white fingers on a lite-brite brain
pull out the pegs—time to feel insane
to let it all out.
sunshine rain from your cucumber eyes
if only the littlest drop
will make me whole
i'll make my soul an impluvium.*
the faraway below, and the folded wings
the sun, the moon, and the unimaginable pinpoints
of what wishes are
everything in the sky and earth
is in his head
and his hands are empty.
he's made it to the leaping-off place
and grass stains his jeans as he stares
lost in thought
wondering, pondering in a storm of
lethargy
the implications of leaving the ground.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
beautiful beast,
i can't let you free;
I have to keep you
leashed to my brain.
it's not a good idea
for you to be running loose.
you would be perceived
as dangerous.
"hide your children. hide!"
don't struggle
against the choke collar.
you won't starve.
you won't starve.
you won't starve.
everything i want to say gets l ost in the fray.
don't struggle
against the choke c ollar.
because it's choking me.
stay clos e by, keep me company.
there Is plenty of food out there.
there is plenty of fo od.
there is plenty of fooD somewhere.
i t hi nk
you're too scary to catch your quarry.
i have to ke ep you here. leashed.
all you want is out of reach anyway, mutt.
in the trees, in the clou ds
on the map, in my hea d
in bits of pap er, in bites of met alloids.
don't struggle you keep me alive.
against th e choke co llar.
y ou won't st arve.
just feed on me.
j ust feed on m
e ju st
fE edo nme. b ea
uti f u l b ea
be st.
a
u
ti
ful
be
a
****
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
sorry, but she's taken.
taken by the dreams she chases every
waking moment.
her best friend is the cold edge
and silver line between taking the moment
or letting it slip to roam her past
like a silhouette predator
with an appetite for reality.
memories dreamed and children grown
no one told her this house wasn't home.
she fell asleep on her death bed...
missed it all.
took a while to sort through the ashes
and most of what they found never existed.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC