veronica-baron
(1989-present) I've been writing poetry since probably early high school (who hasn't written a poem in high school though haha). I've been off and on writing for the last few years but within the past month have really fired up again. I know I've probably improved since high school but who knows if I'm any good? "eye of the beholder" I guess. But I don't write to be good necessarily. I write to express and be my own beholder. / In others poetry I really appreciate good rhythm, things that sound like they're meant to be read out loud, and with perfect pauses and different inflection. I like poetry that I can't always understand but makes me feel something or have a physical response. I love poetry that takes common things in life and turns them, holds them in a new way that you may not have expected, poetry that helps one grow (for both the writer and reader).
Here lies a woman. That is all the granite stone reads. These are its only words. The only thing left to illustrate the being that was. What kind of woman? Mother? Lover? Great orator, writer, singer, dancer? Maybe all of these. What potential is there in a woman? Was it fulfilled? Wasted? Nourished and encouraged to grow? Was the wisdom of a woman passed down? Has the future benefited from a woman? Here lies a woman. What a sad inscription. What a hopeful and inspiring inscription. Here lies a woman. That is all there is now. Only a body beneath the earth. Only a woman. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 12:21 AM UTC
I am a woman.
I am a woman who is lost. in a sea. of bodies.
Muscles and flesh stretch over my mind,
obscuring what I thought I knew,
what I thought I was.
I am only the sum of my parts.
I am not separate from any section of viscera.
I am eyes.
I am lungs.
I am heart.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 11:52 PM UTC
I like to open my eyes to the crushing darkness.
Hot drops caress my skin.
Never hot enough it seems.
I want my flesh to sear,
My bones to burn.
All other sensations will drown in the steamy abyss.
I am body alone.
I am touch alone.
I am cut off from the world and it is liberating
and heavy.
Oct 26, 2012
Oct 26, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
I love your wallet on my desk,
your shoes on my floor.
Little reminders that you're real,
You actually exist,
You aren't just a dream.
I love your Levi's
that you leave behind when you go.
Each piece like a little love note,
Telling me not to worry.
"I'll be back soon," they say.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 1:38 PM UTC
Lying in bed without you
My hands are cold
I don't like the way they feel on my skin.
My body lacks the fire that you inspire.
I have become frigid.
Body absent of longing.
Mind apathetic.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 1:31 PM UTC
My mind is active.
It's not okay.
But I sense moments of expansion.
Mostly, I am comatose.
But sometimes, more frequently, it seems,
I feel a brief intensity.
Like sunshine though tree leaves,
Like closing my eyes and looking directly at the sun.
Fleeting moments of peace.
Fleeting moments of hope that I'm not dead inside.
Maybe the cold is stimulating.
Or maybe it's the solitude.
Or maybe I've hit that low point that brings wicked clarity.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 8:28 PM UTC
What was that in your eyes?
I must be going blind,
For I could not have seen
What I thought I had.
A memory.
Those hands on my thighs.
It must be over now.
That bud that never blossumed
Is now someone else's flower.
Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 9:28 PM UTC
I love the way
the -OH
gets my blood rushing.
And I love the way
your Oh!
gets it rushing too.
Each similarly opening me up:
veins, mind, legs.
Gotta get more, honey.
Gotta get drunk
on you.
Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 4:56 PM UTC
Quiero estar en tu casa,
en tu dormitorio,
en tu piso,
en tus brazos.
Sin luz.
Sin luz, a excepción de la luna,
y tu propia luz.
Quiero oír la lluvia en el techo.
Quiero estar contigo en la noche,
todas las noches.
Nov 28, 2010
Nov 28, 2010 at 4:24 PM UTC
I look up at the silver drops coming straight for me.
I don't have enough sense to come out of the rain.
Entranced by the rhythm from the sky like a heartbeat.
Loving every second of it.
Washing away stress and concerns.
The drops glistening off my skin.
The soft muddy ground beneath my bare feet.
The wet blades between my toes.
The cold drops sending shivers down my spine,
but I don't care.
I have enough sense to not come out of the rain.
Mar 29, 2010
Mar 29, 2010 at 11:00 PM UTC