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Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2018
I can't say I missed you,
but I'm glad you're back half of the time.
In those moments when your lips tense
in focus on a new ****** mystery novel,
you're convinced you know the killer
and I'm convinced you'll **** me in the night,
so we lie awake, side by side.
A shared cold so we're sniffling
I was sick but we couldn't help kissing
I'm beyond infatuated,
have always been emotional,
but with you I really lose my mind.
Mar 2018 · 709
baking in the mojave
Phoenix Bekkedal Mar 2018
baking in the mojave
no rivers here like in the tangles back east
crows—and perhaps other animals can on occasion
be heard in a tussle
squeamish feelings settle in the crater of a
stomach half-empty
Last night I woke up aware
of the snakes that bite and scorpions that pinch
but not how truly they exist
I’ve never felt the sun sear my skin so
I hope to fry and lock in all my juices
like my brother’s rich cooking
oh how I dream of a brother by my side
and the more dreary and sweaty I become
the more I begin to see one
a dark, hulking man, as sullen as I
sulking as I do; beneath a new sun
My history said something about the Mojave desert and it got me thinking.
Nov 2017 · 565
Tomorrow
Phoenix Bekkedal Nov 2017
Sometimes my chest lies dormant
And the wind whistles for me
Sometimes when I wake up
I can't move my toes
I'm paralyzed but still breathing
The breeze living in my corpse
I know I'm attracted to colors
Those bright vivid oranges
I've got the clouds stolen
I stole them; they're between my teeth
My goosebumps kick me down pennies
I scrape them off the sidewalk
Begging for a change
To change what I mean
Into what you see
When you see me
And my shadow lagging behind
Dragging its prickly feet
Praying for the love
To pick me up off the cliff's edge
And drop me
And when I'm falling
I'll finally say
I like your glasses
And your freckles remind me of the stars
And your eyes are just like the moon
And maybe I could fly if I could just
Forget that we're gonna die
Tomorrow
Aug 2017 · 520
The elk
Phoenix Bekkedal Aug 2017
The elk are uneasy
It's time to cross the lake
You can see it in their faces
The way their noses
Are just so still
The lake is a river
Running
Polar bears are caught
Coughing, paddling for the shore
To no avail
The elk stand tall
Take one step
Then none
global warming and deer!!!!!!
Aug 2017 · 369
Mortality poem
Phoenix Bekkedal Aug 2017
We're not dead yet.
I try and look at it that way.
Try not to imagine my momma's mourning face
Torn when she would do anything
Just to switch our places
Be in the coffin instead of me
She keeps coughing from the cigarettes
Replaying regrets regrets
Praying if there's ever been a restart in history
For it to belong right now to me
This is my mortality poem
Let they sing it above my grave
While my mom tries to teach the dirt
How to coo my name
So I can sleep just right
How she wishes she could scratch my head
The way she would do when I was a baby
To get me to sleep
All night
Just right
Phoenix Bekkedal Aug 2017
Found the quarters for the laundry
Counted them by loads

We have enough for eight

You picked me up and counted me by mistakes
I weighed a ton but we carried it together after we exchanged numbers

I did the laundry
And week after week
Again and again until we had enough quarters for one last load
And I washed the bed sheets
Figured we could take all our ***** clothes off and lie in the clean there
Because it's nice to have a clean house

We have a clean house
When I can't sleep I scrub the tiles
Until they're bright like the rising sun reminding me
I should have been sleeping
It's okay though
You're asleep and can't tell you're alone
I ask myself while making coffee
If you know
I've got bags underneath my eyes
And the floor is cleaner and cleaner every passing night
And the smell of bleach resonates off the square white tiles
You continue to wake and just smile
Smile
Just smile
Look at me
And smile
Like the world is smooth
And runs on smiles
My insides mock fire
"Are you tired?"
"No I'm just wired,
drank too much coffee
I'm not tired."
You know
And I know you know
I guess you're happy with the clean floors and extra space in the bed
so you don't have to worry about rolling over at night or kicking me
I write good poems about laundry.
This is an older one.
Jul 2017 · 340
The American Haiku
Phoenix Bekkedal Jul 2017
I climbed an old oak
I fell, and
Bones broke and I croaked

Phoenix Bekkedal Jul 2017
The start (of) /
a braid or a rope /
is nothing (at the beginning of this) /
it is only the idea stemming /
from a sapling or a seed to become /
a tree /
reality /
what we touch, see, and wish to be /
Ancient beings can feel how they are not free /
I notice this is my mother’s face /
as I lead her to the restroom /
so near, too far for her /
the years count with her /
the (counted) years count the steps to the toilet /
and consider just holding it /
because the pain of walking so clearly outweighs /
the pain of holding your *** after birthing 3 children /
one of them dead /
okay, birthing two children /
I was cut from my mother /
Regardless, /
maybe if you cut out the lungs /
things would cease to be /
chaotic like the outreach /
reaching out a hand /
praying she’ll find me /
because I’ve gone too far and can’t rewind //////

maybe if you remove my lungs…. /
I could stop focusing on my breathing /
give you all of my love /
show you I am not worthy /
of that admiration leaking from your ears //////

don’t be jealous of me
Jealous of me?
She couldn't be.
How could she be?
Lying beside me--
Wishing to have my something
Jun 2017 · 372
TP
Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2017
TP
I thank God
For the toilet paper in public restrooms
For when there is
Toilet paper in a public restroom

Thank God for that toilet paper
Seriously
Jun 2017 · 439
God; Part 2
Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2017
i'm not god but I aim to make some choices
affect your life pull your shoe laces
teach you to handle things in phases
take it slow and embrace it
I'm not god but I've got power
I can say any word and make the crowd bow
I can show my body and share my spirit through my skin
we'll begin with *******
then comes the lesson and jaw-dropping stretching
I am a woman and I can make life like God
I can raise a plant like god
although what I create has strings
the puppeteer faults god in my skin
**** poem that means I don't know, I wrote it a while ago
I have work today
Jun 2017 · 438
The Sacrifice
Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2017
Blood soared from the sacrifice
When I took the plunge
I follow through and remove
A ****** heart from the flesh
God loves me for this,
God loves me for this,
God loves me for this.
I earn a place in heaven
When I steal the organs
Of a woman who should know
Not to walk home alone
I got the idea for this poem from this track on Soundcloud that came into my feet. Gorey, yeah I know. The track was electronic with these screams in the background. I would leave a link to the song but I cannot find it now, even though I only heard it yesterday.
Jun 2017 · 349
Stockholm
Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2017
I realize things aren't getting better
We aren't getting better and freeze
Glaciers wrestling the rocks
Believing that somehow we can make this work
Even when you don't even want to
Even when you want to die
Even though we all want to give up all the luggage we carry
And give our tight shoulders a rest
And give in to the feelings of insecurities in our chest
We want to rot
But the truth is
Every day on the calendar isn't a number, it's your name
And I'm living for you

I'm sweating bullets at the sound of your gun
Maybe this wasn't love maybe it was all fun
But it's not funny anymore looking down your Barrel
Wondering if I'll ever know how to feel
And if my feelings were real
And if you'll be missing me while you hide my corpse
Yeaaaahhhhh
Jun 2017 · 634
Grey sweats and food stamps
Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2017
I'm happy with what you have to give me
Except on these days where the hormones in my head
Riot like they forgot about tomorrow
Then my organs sink
And not only my brain can think of you
My skin spells your name in goosebumps
And the curls in my head signify the S that starts your name
The word that's always on my tongue
That made up word
That made up name
That belongs to you and will always mean
This love that devastates me always
This fever that makes me sweat out all the questions
When my immune system can't [/catch up and make up/]give the answers
as fast as it all unravels and so a lie for comfort may slip out
From between my lips
from my wallowing throat
from my nauseous stomach
where the Crohn's says I have cancer



When the dehydration strangles me,
I will be less human than you ever were
Each grain, a connection, the sand leaves me an emptier sandbag
Just one in the wall of flood prevention
Protecting a city of quivering seamonkeys
Seia!
Jun 2017 · 691
[birds cawing, screeching]
Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2017
[birds cawing, screeching]
“Mommy dearest I'm bleeding
Through birth I’m feeling”
[trees are leaving]
Grown feet and with large strides
“They leave me here and go elsewhere”
To live, birth, and strive
“Now I’ve got nowhere but the cells in my veins to hide
Where I weep to sleep because pain has sent me
Staggering into a sunset invisible to me”
[not meaning to make it about she,
but conclusions arise that we can’t defeat]
[background chatter stimulates the flight of bees]
[buzzing fills the air, men feel suffocated
and can’t see their free seeping
through their fingers like the sand on the shore
where they’ve left their boats]
[They leave these boats with no mind
even though their fathers planted the trees
who gave their all
to be built into a ship
strong enough to carry the sun]
Jun 2017 · 556
Albino Moth
Phoenix Bekkedal Jun 2017
An albino moth wanders into my apartment
And I wonder how's it's stayed alive so far
And if it will fly low enough
for my dog to ****** out of the sky
And end a dynasty
I saw a white bug on the ground and that made me think of moths and yup
May 2017 · 298
baggage
Phoenix Bekkedal May 2017
Pardon me if I said it too quickly
Until now you’ve been able to keep up with me
Here it is under the sun
The truth and nothing more
I’ll keep my baggage out of this
I won’t let it get in the way

Not this time


Or did it just happen again?
baggage
May 2017 · 692
Never Before Now
Phoenix Bekkedal May 2017
I'd never heard a gunshot until I had.
I had never been an orphan till I lost my dad.
I am a broken lot.
I find sadness when I'm alone.
I am annoying.
My mouth skips records--
I interrupt you when I talk.
I talk a lot.
A friend called me annoying, obnoxious, loud, and overly dramatic.
One of my best friends,
how could he expect me to be anything less than me?
Phoenix Bekkedal May 2017
I kissed the Ocean and she said she was the Sea
During the season of allergies I sneeze with no intention of apologizing
I don't put things behind me
the construction workers outside don't care if I'm sleeping
they keep cutting down trees and I keep weeping because
I. Can't. Sleep.
Big Oil like that doesn't like me
says the green in my blood is a lie
I say I keep my ties and preserve
unlike you monkeys getting what you don't deserve

I know I'm not winning but I know I have the cause and effect of sea breeze
You don't notice me but I'm there I am so there
And when I pick up and show you my hurricane you're scared
but I promise you I'm just letting you know I'm there
Asking you to tell me you care
I woke up very poetic this morning. This is kinda how it works for me.
May 2017 · 322
School and work
Phoenix Bekkedal May 2017
I woke up thinking it was a school day
But remembering it wasn't wasn't fun either
The days I am not in school I work and do the work that was meant for home
Man-made clouds do not part
and I will never see the sun
I woke up on Saturday thinking it was Friday, and I was surprised at my lack of excitement because I still had work. I work everyday. School, work, or school followed me home: homework.
May 2017 · 262
Untitled
Phoenix Bekkedal May 2017
Don’t ever die
Apr 2017 · 519
Stutter
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Re-peat-peat-peat-ing
This…
Is trying for me
Stuttering up the tall trunk
Of a tree impossible to climb
Whoop
Apr 2017 · 649
The tree in me
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
The tree
By my birth
Stood strong
To compensate
For my weakness

The tree
Afterward
Stood stronger
For I was the tallest
In my class and my head

The tree
I loved never
Never fell nor waned
At the sight of the moon
Nor lightning streaming down

This tree
Stems out my
Hefty brooding lungs
Stems out my
Every ambition
Grows from my
Red blood and
How I hum with
Unbelievable strength
Out your window
Beckoning you to listen to
The tree in me
The tree in me is an old oak with scars on its branches of young lovers carving their ambitions into my skin.
Apr 2017 · 549
Lucky
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Every beat
Every breath
A miracle
Another beat
Another breath
A miracle
A drop from the sky
Again and again
Miracles
I’m lucky
I’m lucky to have a heart flowing so well with blood
I’m lucky to have these lungs that grow with every breath
I’m so lucky
I wish I was named Lucky so you could know I see this
And I appreciate
Every beat
Every breath
Hella lucky
I should be named Lucky
I'm so lucky
Apr 2017 · 350
Hands (10w)
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
I have to wash these hands
These hands are *****
I'ma try and write a lot of these.
Apr 2017 · 459
*Very untitled*
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
I want to celebrate every poem I want to celebrate all my knowledge I want to celebrate the connections I want to be closer to you
oh boy
Apr 2017 · 763
My name is Lonely
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
I am Lonely
My game I play is darts in an empty bar
I play this game until there are purple marks
Dents beneath my sullen eyes
I'm a freak between the sheets and the mattress
Here, I cry harder than the sky can
Also when I am in my every-place
I am lonely.
whoop
Apr 2017 · 1.2k
bleach
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
bleach
the pink splotches on my not white clothing are because of you

dilute it and you have soap
drink it and you've got death

hum and click your fingernails if they're long enough to reach the table

rub it into your skin and forget your parents' identity
clean the counter with it

bleach
bleach bleach is for cleaning
Apr 2017 · 379
Quickwrite: God
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Utter control
I call myself God
Flint and stone my ******* and thumb
The wood that is consequence
Come alive by the flame from my fingers and my nod
I call myself God
******* around
Apr 2017 · 735
Losing a poem;
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Losing a poem;
It’s a taste of dementia
The loss of a part of you
Coming apart
Lost more than paper and pen
Lost important thoughts birthed on a deeper level
Million dollar ideas only because they’re sentimental
Your only success in life
The only one that matters to you
The one that matters to you the most
It hurts so much when I lose a poem, especially a really really good one.
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
The static in the tv
Crawls out to me
A significant black widow
Painted alive by the darkness
Black in my room
I’ve lost myself but find it again
Slump my head and watch the alarm clock glow
And count lazily way passed 4 a.m.
It’s been too long since I’ve met the dawn happily
Attempting the smile, I feel
Alike a lying man
Sounds awesome listening to Google Translate say it. You've gotta put a period at each line though otherwise it doesn't pause correctly.

Happy Friday.
Apr 2017 · 473
Climbing Mtn Everest
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Frigid
Slow beginnings
Sped up by a beginner's luck
Damage to the joints
Exhausted ligaments
Ice chip knee caps
Protecting you from a poisonous prayer bed, blinding white
Snow
Blue lips bluer beside pale skin
Pale fingertips; becoming one with the blizzard
We should go
But no,
Up! Heave-**!
The snow is seeping through my coat
The restlessness of an ugly fate seems to tighten around our numb ankles
I feel like you say it through the roaring
sheets of ice burying us
"We won't be making it back down"
Apr 2017 · 626
The Woods
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Sometime one day I'll bury a hefty hatchet
Feel the weight slip off my shoulders
Right before I collapse
Into the grave I dug for myself
In the woods where quarrels end
Where anyone can lose their beginning
Whoopwhoop.
Apr 2017 · 318
Impress you
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
One day I will impress you
Just watch
Check out what I can do with my hands
Give me a flashlight I can make an eagle on the wall
I can only make an eagle though
Oh guess what else I can do
I can intertwine my fingers to make a face
Oh, oh!  
I’m pretty literate too
Any word, any word you want,
I can write it down.

If you're not impressed yet,
you're not human
or lower your expectations.
Apr 2017 · 400
boat, me
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
I'm not good at being grateful.
I'm a boat
I can float
and I'm mindless
I am a boat
Apr 2017 · 826
this is not a sexist poem
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Men are
Blind like bats
They dont know
But they troubleshoot
With their docile guns
And stinking breath
The reek of alcohol
Tends to shrink
My ego
Like the salt of the sea
Upon the shipwrecked sailor
Shipwrecked skin
My arms
Are like bobby pins
I can hold
Small pieces of you
And I’ll be there
When you lock yourself
Out of the house
Or the doorknob
To the bathroom door
Falls off onto the hardwood floor
Of your cheap downtown flat
Apr 2017 · 780
Your blind mother
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Do you see me?
Or are you blind like your mother?


I'll ask again.
Do you see me?
Or are you blind like your mother?
Don't tell me your deaf either.
That's not the answer I'm looking for.
I would have never burnt the bridge if you had never fallen off it.
Yet you still say you have the honor to sit so happily upon a throne that was not crafted in your name.
Are you blind like your mother?
Can you not see me?
Because if you can not see me, then I have no choice but to talk.
And I'm losing faith in dancing.
Because I'm almost sure you can not see me.

Maybe you’re both.
Deaf and blind,
because I have not heard any such news from you of an inability to see.
Or maybe you’re just inconsiderate.
Maybe you’re just mean.
Maybe you’re just dead.

Maybe I’m just lost.

Now that I think about it, I’m the blind one.
I’m the one whose face is smushed into the pillows, correct?
Isn’t that how it’s always been?
The realization, dawned sun, is crushing.
I’ma wait for the set though.
Soon the moon will be there in replacement.
Just to match my blue heart and blue eyes.

And when the sun arrives once again,
to complement my red blood splattered on the tile,
I will have my wish.
To meet and beat your blind mother.
Apr 2017 · 1.1k
Bad
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Bad
Answer me this:
Do good people do bad things?
What makes a good person?
What makes a bad one?

Shush.

Don't say a word.

I wasn't really asking.
Let me tell you.

A good person is characterized by irrefutable morals
And in the case that you have the same morals
Then a good person is characterized by their ability to follow their morals as well
Why they do bad things?
Well I suppose it would just be a mistake
Their ability to follow their morals…
Let's say this good person isn't so… skilled at being good
I feel as though
You're not a good person
It’s obvious you can't follow your morals

If you have them

So what if you’re a bad person
What makes a person bad?
What makes a bad person?
Having no sense of right or wrong
Or ignoring their sense of criminal
Well then
Yeah yeah I'm sure
**You’re a bad person
A sequel.
Apr 2017 · 304
Untitled
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
an angel in the dust...

I could have sworn I didn't kick up much
Apr 2017 · 227
Untitled
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
I felt distant and today was nice with you.
I feel safer.
I've been a mess these
past couple of days.
But
I don't know--this--

I've been writing
My nose is stuffy but I don't mind
It's just miserable sniffing in class
Because I imagine everyone thinking I'm gross
But i'm not gross I've just got the cold

You're the most beautiful anything
I sit here and absorb everything every beautiful thing
everything you share with me
everything I'm lucky to see
I stare every moment of every moment
stare like I'll be losing you too soon
Baby, you're close
And beautiful
Baby,
it's just you and me today
Except it's not we're tangled up in cobwebs pulling us away
Pulling you away

Until I'm alone and I forget the day
Want to curl up and cry but I've got nothing left to say
Want to scream and cry but I've got no way to cope with the change
of not having you by my side
My arms not around your soft waist

My head not resting on your lap
My eyes not watching you do something mundane but thinking you're still an angel in every way
Apr 2017 · 692
Untitled
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
I'm young but you're a child
Apr 2017 · 443
Unrecognizable
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Unrecognizable
I'll never see her the same way again
Instead -
I'll loathe her from my side of the bed
And it builds more each day I have to bear
Her crimes on my back
It's my shame too
Cheating and stealing like she was never really human
But she must have been human once
Otherwise
Why would I have fallen for her?
Why do I still see truth in her lying eyes?
Why do I still hold on tight?
Like she'll ever appreciate my time
My effort like the ****** rivers in my veins
Run for her.
Now from her.
We run from her now
Here in this hard head.
I'll never feel the same again.
I'll never love you again.
It's been a rough weekend.
Apr 2017 · 3.9k
Pencil poem
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
I never got to thank you
Mister electronic pencil sharpener
I never got to thank you
Mister mechanical pencil
I never got to thank you
Mister dull pencil, because your eraser still works
And mister pencil without an eraser, because you’re still sharp
This doesn't really fit the prompt but...
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
“You don't understand it's different from last time”
“How?”
“Well you see last time I wanted to hurt myself.”
“Well?”
“Well ya see it's different then?”
“How? It sounds like you're better now.”
“How? When this is what we're talking about!”  
“I guess I don't understand then.”
“Seem so.”
Apr 2017 · 310
penny
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
I feel gone like if I lick my lips I'm not really there and if I pinch my skin (which I won't cause I promised I wouldn't hurt myself this time) I wouldn't feel it not even a little I feel like the forgotten penny in the couch cushions and one day someone'll find me but no one'll be too excited
Apr 2017 · 1.7k
a dog
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
Add a little pressure
To the edges of my vision
And watch how I keep onto the sharp images even if they become awry
I've got a story in my heart and today I'm leaving for the weekend
Going on a roadtrip except it's in my head and I can't drive even though I could if I wanted to
And tomorrow I’ll be so socially and emotionally intelligent you’ll be so impressed
My mother will smile again
So slightly will her lips part and their edges face toward the sun
Face toward her son
A little boy with no place to choose
I’ll show you all
I’m not alone and I’m not afraid to lose
I’m a dog and a bandit
I miss you in the sandbox
I miss the bucket you would bring because I never had my own
But also
I miss you
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
sleep blessed sleep oh blessed sleep dripping from rainclouds that are so heavy on the eyelids that you can’t help but sit there like sitting in the shower basin with the hot water just trampling over you like a stampede of majestic animals like ghosts they're nice
it's nice to get some sleep lie alone for hours on end just flashing by when i close my eyes some days it's harder to get there but then i just cry like the rainclouds and then i feel the peace of a gentle sleep whistling in the air like ocean breeze shushing me to sleep
it’s easy to compete with the birds that can only tweet and i can be a beauty and a beast and a dancer and a creep
it’s a little sip of utter bliss that is more blissful than any sip of coffee or other synthetic energy
I got an email about how sleep is important so I wrote this
Apr 2017 · 246
lie
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
lie
i'm not ******* i didn't mean to
it was just easier to not say anything just go along just nod my head and i know this way i have lied the way my father and mother may and that i am not successful nor true to what i want or may want or definitely want
i didn't mean to lie why did i
Apr 2017 · 310
Calm down
Phoenix Bekkedal Apr 2017
there's no hurry
time will hold your hand, anxious child
there's nowhere to run
so why feel like running
your corpse will take over you soon enough don't let that be now
the more life you exhale the closer you are to losing your inhale but i promise you you're the basic windmill
You’re literally a caterpillar you’re every table in the world you’re me if i was a girl you’re a piano buried beneath the lighthouse
Calm the **** down
We're all timebombs; we're all ticking
we're all counting moments down and thinking
imagining when we could be speaking
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