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Bows N' Arrows Feb 2017
The wave that crashed
my soul
The seashells bedecked in gold
The mess I couldn't erase
with every trace of constellations
pulsated a face
And the day gone black
under a bedsheet
Wine spilled on a cuffling
The longing for drizzle
and rain
The levitation from the
Earth like tripping windowpane
A watchtower showing you home
You are the well I'm crawling
down
( To float in the clearlight )
The alchemy and sigils in stone
A voice that mumbles
in my sound ears when I'm alone.
I blame Lord Byron for my romanticism, he often wrote on laudanum.
Bows N' Arrows Jan 2017
***
The indescretion everyone
can be capable of  
The transgression of
misconstruing love
Spins by my peripherals
I can't recollect
Flesh, omnipresent
Foreign to each other
It's much easier to cease
the silence through touching
Clasped lips,
hands,  miscellaneous
It's supposed to be fun
sensation without depth of
feeling
Then it's also supposed to
matter with one person only
The constellation of freckles
bespeckled dots on your back
Time spent alone with other
people that aren't you...
Feigning smiles
Laughing like friends
that I will never see again
What does casual even mean
"Casual" seems to mean fleeting
Pulses,  caught in eachothers
breaths
Keeping love notes
Intertwining sweats because I
can't sleep alone I guess
Misshapen puzzle pieces
that can't connect through
any medium except ***
Shadow faced individuals
Ideals of romance
courtship rituals
fragmented by the dashboard
light
Why is there pleasure in
self destruction
ripping our clothes for a
Semblance of passion
Asking to be left alone
feeling like you
compromised someone
with every face you
can't replace the dyad of the one.
Society has declared that the "****** is the glass slipper" of the Millennial generation. This poem is about forgoing atypical and traditional dating rituals and some of the self loathing that accompanies more of the negative aspects of "hook-up culture."
Bows N' Arrows Dec 2016
Tripping through the night
Street lamps glitter on snow-ladden
streets
Miscellaneous voices
Button up jackets and
candy cane stripes
Hold me tight then take
a bite of me
Swooning endlessly by frostbitten
trees
Whistling through the leaves
cruchy under my feet
Bows N' Arrows Dec 2016
I chased them away
all the would-be lovers
of mine
Jack's, Luke's, Dean's and David's
I'm left alone to read
by myself
but I can't focus on the words
re-reading sentences
I tear apart mirrors
and sit on bathtub floors
I wind up with a few more
bruises on my legs to count
bruises shaped like hearts
Weeks go by, It all rolls off
the bruises heal up
Then I let another amputate my
heart and the cycle repeats
itself
Running in the dark
I curse all their words
and hope I don't meet
some innocent with the same
name's
Jack's, Luke's, Dean's and Davids
I've chocked myself up
And dined alone
sitting in my black room
Making a semblance of peace
within stormy moods of gloom
I'm not floating but
I still have hope
Bows N' Arrows Dec 2016
My back was cold on the bathtub
and the candles licked the walls
There was a different pianist
every night
In the bumblebee rooms
These buildings I'm told
are over 100 years old
From Larimer where Kerouac
roamed
He sat by the heater and listened
to Billy Holiday's " Lover Man"
Jazz and blues
Walking the streets hoping
I would meet someone on the
December noon
Electric, wandering
Warming his hands in
the night
Fountain of water under
two trees
frozen in the December eve
Smoky cigarette lamps under
cloudy Moon's
And I'm still thinking of you
This poem is an inside tale,  personal, private.  But I chose to share it anyway. It's where you find yourself in a scenario that really accentuates your more romantic view of life and to try and stay realistic, grounded and practical.
Bows N' Arrows Sep 2016
We're all gunna die someday
Better find the one while
we still have time
No more noons gaining high
off wine
Or indulging in pipe dreams
love of mine
Unconscious heart
Persperated in the tinge of desire
Pulled in from the fallout
All the quaking and debris
and rumbling of the inner city
Shapeshifting through the
dregs of karma
You're the muse stealing the
gods' fire
This poem, for me, is really about a sense of being without structure and feeling disconnected to the source of life itself and trying to find a sense of spirituality in forms. It points to trying to find structure through relationships. It also speaks about a sort of apocalyptic state of mind via being in an environment that is sort of like life lived when Adam and Eve were kicked out of the garden of Eden and into a scary, chaotic world
Bows N' Arrows Sep 2016
I wished you before
under a cracked star
     under a nightscape
My eyes.      Closed
Shut tight.  Locked windows
I wished us together
Phantom lover
I wished us driving
to places alone under
cycles of Moon
playing and dancing like birds
Cradle my wayword bony curve
in your safe space
If you were sour
I'd excuse because
like mommy always said
" If he's mean, that means he likes
you."
But a heart-shaped bruise
is still a bruise
And I'll always be little spoon
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