rwinters - Hello Poetry

grey mud made blue for our play, and our faces we've trudged in it many a color marched over it, dried in the yard Many a sunflower-day sight spent on weeds though her heart is encased in my soil, she could tread no lighter that I be overjoyed, with the footprint of her favor it is forever a favorite stamp on my chest, a faucet that runs over my arms, soaking our garden, play with me again?

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Sep 2, 2020

Sep 2, 2020 at 12:25 AM UTC

Blue Mud

grey mud made blue for our play, and our faces we've trudged in it many a color marched over it, dried in the yard Many a sunflower-day sight spent on weeds though her heart is encased in my soil, she could tread no lighter that I be overjoyed, with the footprint of her favor it is forever a favorite stamp on my chest, a faucet that runs over my arms, soaking our garden, play with me again?

13

if ceiling gave way books to fall down their plot missed, a story never scribbled into the margins hopefully no lamp in the east kept up, burning. And only walls to scale, sky to grab, mountains to sip water-proof sunscreen, mud that doesn't stick to the bottoms of shoes, eyes wide at the sun. Under the moon, the lamp in the west still up, burning.

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Feb 23, 2019

Feb 23, 2019 at 1:47 AM UTC

Lamps

if ceiling gave way books to fall down their plot missed, a story never scribbled into the margins hopefully no lamp in the east kept up, burning. And only walls to scale, sky to grab, mountains to sip water-proof sunscreen, mud that doesn't stick to the bottoms of shoes, eyes wide at the sun. Under the moon, the lamp in the west still up, burning.

8

Time as the sea that parts us I've carried my dresser drawers up so many flights of fresh paint by now, glossy eyes cafes, You sitting to watch a drip when I started drinking smoothies instead Could touch-and-go waves hold out for us many more seashell lives? touched by so many and pulled out of sand so known, to perish justly in cold waters? How does one electrify the soul again over Moses's swells? How can the red sea part when I know not where you stand?

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Jan 15, 2019

Jan 15, 2019 at 12:26 AM UTC

Ignorance and Ocean

Time as the sea that parts us I've carried my dresser drawers up so many flights of fresh paint by now, glossy eyes cafes, You sitting to watch a drip when I started drinking smoothies instead Could touch-and-go waves hold out for us many more seashell lives? touched by so many and pulled out of sand so known, to perish justly in cold waters? How does one electrify the soul again over Moses's swells? How can the red sea part when I know not where you stand?

11

picture us, lawn chairs and faces black, like kettles left out go our hands and dark palms For now we, the migrants our knuckles on city doors not ours humbled to our toes this star-less cold dining room dreams, now on fire, mercy our new coat neighborly faces take hands washing them over buckets though nothing there was no wall

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Jan 5, 2019

Jan 5, 2019 at 3:42 PM UTC

Picture Us

picture us, lawn chairs and faces black, like kettles left out go our hands and dark palms For now we, the migrants our knuckles on city doors not ours humbled to our toes this star-less cold dining room dreams, now on fire, mercy our new coat neighborly faces take hands washing them over buckets though nothing there was no wall

10

2018 is a crazy over-pour of blessings and joy and love and cheap art and fur babies and hugs and eating Mcdonald's with our mouths open and poems and Shakespeare and roommate pizza nights and honey'd down tea and planting flowers and trips to the 99 cent store and so many good pens that are everywhere and don't seem to get lost and this purple-blue feeling that I could get away with it all - gold that tethers to me like Christmas lights, am I too bright? Will this silver crinkly valley let me sip much more?

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Nov 19, 2018

Nov 19, 2018 at 2:14 AM UTC

Untitled

2018 is a crazy over-pour of blessings and joy and love and cheap art and fur babies and hugs and eating Mcdonald's with our mouths open and poems and Shakespeare and roommate pizza nights and honey'd down tea and planting flowers and trips to the 99 cent store and so many good pens that are everywhere and don't seem to get lost and this purple-blue feeling that I could get away with it all - gold that tethers to me like Christmas lights, am I too bright? Will this silver crinkly valley let me sip much more?

4

Locked in I was and grey spatter I spit under fear I crept for satan's name, used so, at my dawn and at my wake my own voice, soft like flowers who tremble under trees so steadfast then upon not one, but many a sunrise, my voice grew up to be wind ~my love out-loud in the living room prayers and fears to sentence my mouth not one more day Freedom knew me my pen knew what it wanted at 11 picking it up at 27 never so brilliantly has ink bubbled

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Nov 10, 2018

Nov 10, 2018 at 1:36 PM UTC

Locked in

Locked in I was and grey spatter I spit under fear I crept for satan's name, used so, at my dawn and at my wake my own voice, soft like flowers who tremble under trees so steadfast then upon not one, but many a sunrise, my voice grew up to be wind ~my love out-loud in the living room prayers and fears to sentence my mouth not one more day Freedom knew me my pen knew what it wanted at 11 picking it up at 27 never so brilliantly has ink bubbled

16

What good is tall grass? Your blue eyes cupped in my hands, already I've asked the saints to dunk me under in all undue riches save me from my Only One Ocean shores love knees to touch craving almost as much our love long whispers heads bowed Our toes realizing chorus and green and tame it no longer, tumbling so fully-it shocks us to the tips of our hair splits not even sandy yet Offering my jewels to Pharaoh maybe he could take this price off my head, my wheels off, nights pink tongue from my window Over the beds of yellow and orange prayers, still blooming I step beside the ****** to ask, but not forgetting, blue ball caps that scream over the tops of curly heads and where am I but always with you at the beach?

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Nov 5, 2018

Nov 5, 2018 at 12:47 AM UTC

Gods & The Beach

What good is tall grass? Your blue eyes cupped in my hands, already I've asked the saints to dunk me under in all undue riches save me from my Only One Ocean shores love knees to touch craving almost as much our love long whispers heads bowed Our toes realizing chorus and green and tame it no longer, tumbling so fully-it shocks us to the tips of our hair splits not even sandy yet Offering my jewels to Pharaoh maybe he could take this price off my head, my wheels off, nights pink tongue from my window Over the beds of yellow and orange prayers, still blooming I step beside the ****** to ask, but not forgetting, blue ball caps that scream over the tops of curly heads and where am I but always with you at the beach?

21

and in the graveyard of my lovers i take care not to step loudly that they might not wake and see, how cold it is. that i might not smash their corpses still i put an arrow in my own heart to wrench it out with might and little will it bleed, if at all i finally dug myself a spot so i too can wait for footsteps overhead warm in thick soil only asking to be wrangled from the dirt, here and there, to see the cold. stooping heartily into my hole i whistle merrily

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Nov 2, 2018

Nov 2, 2018 at 12:28 AM UTC

Halloween Bad-Love Poem

and in the graveyard of my lovers i take care not to step loudly that they might not wake and see, how cold it is. that i might not smash their corpses still i put an arrow in my own heart to wrench it out with might and little will it bleed, if at all i finally dug myself a spot so i too can wait for footsteps overhead warm in thick soil only asking to be wrangled from the dirt, here and there, to see the cold. stooping heartily into my hole i whistle merrily

16

Fog-covered in the rainforest new dark moss, and our heavy swamp breaths Heads that sparkled in the city two hands sway with saxophone songs warm however, even at cold beer licking over limbs Unruly night cast wide it's net, and we found lips of our lovers, on islands, opposite

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Oct 27, 2018

Oct 27, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC

Loose ground

Fog-covered in the rainforest new dark moss, and our heavy swamp breaths Heads that sparkled in the city two hands sway with saxophone songs warm however, even at cold beer licking over limbs Unruly night cast wide it's net, and we found lips of our lovers, on islands, opposite

12

I fill them up, too full in my flask the lid falls off, on the dance floor no less I take it with me still, the morning after while the mimosas are out I let it drive me, the windows rolled down unbothered by the way the sun stares that February night wasn't cold at all i spilled in the kitchen and that July in red hallways it stained the carpet but you place it back in my threadbare hands and don't scold me on the train you say "sip up" and remember, that's whiskey.

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Oct 14, 2018

Oct 14, 2018 at 8:20 PM UTC

Thanks for Loaning Me Your Friends....

I fill them up, too full in my flask the lid falls off, on the dance floor no less I take it with me still, the morning after while the mimosas are out I let it drive me, the windows rolled down unbothered by the way the sun stares that February night wasn't cold at all i spilled in the kitchen and that July in red hallways it stained the carpet but you place it back in my threadbare hands and don't scold me on the train you say "sip up" and remember, that's whiskey.

19