Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Alice Jun 2015
This is what happens everyday:
I sit, not knowing what to do with myself.
Immobile in my grey chair, as storm clouds
swirl and rain splatters and thunder shatters
the silence. My nails keep curling out of my
fingertips while the hair sprouts from my head—
longer and longer like ropes being pulled from
the mass of a ship; golden; heavy and endless.
Trees swaying and rocking, so clear against
the white shimmer of unseeing eyes, as
the thousands of unborn spiders crawl within
the milky white swinging precariously across
the black abyss which stares out through my lashes.
A heart beat a million times.
My body is stiff, molded to the curve of my
forever-restless squat.
Alice May 2015
Sometimes I feel my heart is swollen with love.
Other times I feel it is chipper but narrow as a bird:
singing out praise while breathing so little air.
Alice May 2015
A long time ago, in this land, before people forgot my name.
I do not understand why they forgot, or what was forgotten.
It is only a thousand miles separating us
and the unity of space travels through the jolts of electric currents.
I am not alone—
neither are you, we are both buried deep inside ourselves
hidden behind the masks of personalities we have
taped over around our faces
two deep beings, burrowed beneath the thumping
jumbles of our thoughts, meditating in the core
and whispering quietly like wheat upon the land.
Alice Apr 2015
A long time ago,
I was a lone sparrow
who flew like the present
upon yesterday’s wind.
When I picked up
pine needles,
they were tomorrow
and I knew that yesterday
would never come again.
Alice Apr 2015
Sail away, small bird.
Over distant oceans
Tip down your beak
Let it touch the sea.

Sail away, small bird.
Don't let the crashing
waves touch you. Don't
let them spray your wings.

Sail away, small bird.
Drown out the roar
Of the current with the
gentle hum of the breeze.

Sail away, small bird.
Away from everything.
Away from home.
Away from me.
Alice Apr 2015
Oh, soft lavender fields
                                     dancing
             over the hills
                                                  to you.
Olives; wine in your glass
                                       deep purple
              over the hills
                                         splashing
Over the hills
                          pouring down
                                                    into the sky
chasing away
                       orange minnows.
On soft lavender
                          dancing
                 over
                          to you.
Alice Apr 2015
It makes me angry
That all these years
I have sat,
longingly searching
for the green light.

Yet, when I reached out my arms
to embrace destiny,
I found myself hugging smoke;
My Daisy, nothing more than
a forgotten dream reflected
in the dark waves of the lake,
like scattered puzzle pieces
under the moonlight.
Next page