Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Through the half-opened door, I watched you dissolved yourself in the thousand places and hundred years in your book. The sun hadn’t gone out today, like yesterday. As you flipped the pages and contain love between your fingers, the cat beside you remained uninterested to the benign indifference of the world.

Your coffee had gone cold, cream flared indiscreetly like those letters I have written and never sent, torn to pieces, all bits screaming your name. I can hear the sound of your tongue licking your lips – you always do that, before you form your words. After I disappear with you.

The sound of my footfalls echoed and I watched it wrapped the wall, covered the hinges of the door, up on the roof, and then dripped on its edges, fell like rain, kissed the pavement madly, then broke irrevocably like hearts. In our sheer vulnerability, this is how we encompassed the world.

I moved closer and you disappeared in your secret self, again. Roughness seethed my palm as I invade the space you have fenced. I wonder if this curtain had ever questioned how long has it been since you last summoned infinity, with me.

In this dungeon.
That night.
When the stars were disarrayed.
When immortality was defied.
When heat was lingering on the wall, in the atmosphere.
When I dismembered the universe just to melt with you while the entire space is screaming at me to run.

You must have heard my plea, my open mouth just above your ear. You should have heard me, to never stop your lips from measuring the length of my neck, to never chain your hands set wild between my legs, to let me bury your hair strands between my fingers, to always encompass me in your scorching breath.

And then eventually,
To burn me away.
*Lacus Crystalthorn , 2013
The Grizzly Bear is huge and wild
It has devoured the little child.
The little child is unaware
It has been eaten by the bear.
 Mar 2013 Claire Ellen
Samuel
You used to laugh (and
    pretend my spiny sweet-gum
       words would cringe at the very
  brush of a lifetime), but
                     our seasons are changing
                (everything is all at once an
                  unwavering green), adopting
                      breadth of iceberg proportions
  
    (we dance around forever.)
 Mar 2013 Claire Ellen
Tim Knight
He shot himself in June
and his blood fell like
early-summer’s rain
against a background
of tortured skies filled
with precipitation pain.

She drowned under a
veil of water in a ceremony
of let’s-end-my-life-today,
not a marriage, nor commitment
or a party of Dutch courage.

They kissed each other before
they went their separate ways;
into to the summer
or into the bathroom, for her;
‘cos those are the places that are locked away.
Like for poetry to your feed >> facebook.com/timknightpoetry
nononononononononononononono IF nononononononononononononononono
nonononononononono I’D nonononononononononononononononononononono
nonononononononononono­nonono KNOWN nononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononononononono­nono IF nononononononononono
nononononononononononononono  I’D nononononononononononononononono
nonononononono THOUGHT nononononononononononononononononononono
nononononononononononono­nono BUT nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­ THE nonononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono WORD nononononononononononononono
nonononono SHOULD nononononononononononononononononononononono
nononononononononono­nononono HAVE nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nono BEEN nononononononononono
nononononononononononononono ENOUGH nonononononononononononono
nonono WHERE nonononononononononononononononononononononononono
nonononononono­nonononononono DID  nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononon­onononononononononono I nononononono
nononononononononononononono GO? nonononononononononononononono
nononononononononono EVERY nononononononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono­ TIME?  nononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononon­ononononononononononononono THERE
nononononononononononononono IS nononononononononononononononono
nononono NEVER nononononononononononononononononononononononono
nononononononono­nononononono A nonononononononononononononononon
nononononononononononononononon­ononono SCENARIO nononononononono
nononononononononononononono WHERE nononononononononononononono
nononononononononono THIS nonononononononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononono­no WOULD nononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononononononono­no BE nonononononononononono
nononononononononononononono OKAY.  nononononononononononononono
nono I nonononononononononononononononononononononononononononono
nonono­nonononononononononono DIDN’T nononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononononononono­nononono ASK nonononononono
nononononononononononononono FOR nonononononononononononononono
nonononononono IT nonononononononononononononononononononononono
nonononononononono­nonononono THE nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nono CLOTHES nononononononono
nononononononononononononono AREN’T nononononononononononononono
nonononono AN nonononononononono nononononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono INVITATION nononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono nonononononononono POWER.  nononono
nononononononononononononono DOES  nononononononononononononono
no IT nonononononononononononononononononononononononononononono
nonono­nonononononononononono FEEL nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nononono GOOD? nonononononono
nononononononononononononono ALL nonononononononononononononono
nononononono THAT nonononononononononononononononononononononono
nonononononononono­nonononono POWER? nonononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononononono­nononononono GUILT nonono
nononononononononononononono FOR nonononononononononononononono
nononon ME onononononononononononononononononononononononononono
nononononon­onononononononono BLAME nononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono nonononononono FAULT nonononononono
nononononononononononononono WHOSE nononononononononononononono
nonononononono FAULT? nonononononononononononononononononononono
nonononononononononono­nonono MUST  nononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononono­nonononono BE nononononononononono
nononononononononononononono MINE.  nononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono ­ THIS nonononononononononononononono
nonononono WILL nononononononononononononononononononononononono
nononononononono­nononononono NOW nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nonononononononono BE nononono
nononononononononononononono A nononononononononononononononono
no PART nononononononononononononononononononononononononononono
nononono­nononononononononono OF nononononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononononono­nononononono ME. nonononononono
nononononononononononononono FOREVER. nonononononononononononono
nononononononononono THE nonononononononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononono­no GHOST nononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononononononono­nononononononono THAT nonono
nononononononononononononono BREATHES nononononononononononono
nonononono THE nononononononononononononononononononononononono
nononononononono­nononononono SURGEON nonononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononononono­nonono THAT nonononononono
nononononononononononononono FORCES nononononononononononononono
nononononononono THE nononononononononononononononononononononono
nononononononononono­nononono ****** nononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononononononono­nono PULP nonononononononono
nononononononononononononono OF nononononononononononononononono
SHAME nononononononononononononononononononononononononononono
nononono­nononononononononono INTO nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nonononononononononononono ME
nononononononononononononono OVER nonononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono AND nonononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono OVER nonononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono AND nonononononononononononnononono
nononononononononononononono OVER nonononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono AND. Nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nonononononononononononononono
nonononononononononononononononono­nonononononononononononononono
nononononononononononononono FOREVER. nonononononononononononono
I'd been thinking about writing this poem for a while, and when the media was so concerned over the rapists' future and not the victim (Steubenville), I decided I should stop jotting down random thoughts and actually write it. We keep hearing the term "**** culture." Here's a victim's viewpoint...and remember that this victim could be your mother, your sister, your grandmother, your best friend, your girlfriend, your wife, your child.

I'm pleased with it, but am frustrated that I couldn't get all the NOs to be perfectly aligned! Ah, well.

P.S. The subject is hidden (not too well) in the title.
And a woman who held a babe against her ***** said, "Speak to us of
Children."

And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit,
not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you
with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that
is stable.
 Mar 2013 Claire Ellen
Lizabeth
I want to fall into the room with you,
pulling at our jeans and tee shirts
until we’re in nothing but our
white cotton underwear.

I want to forget about light switches,
cell phones, and my breathing.


I want you to have trouble with my bra,
fingers clumsy with the clasp.
You’ll mutter Jesus Christ,
and I’ll smile against your lips.

I want you to tangle your hands, in my curls
and I’ll spread my palms across your back,
mapping from your shoulders to your ***.

I want to run my hands down your
chest and see if your stomach tenses
when my fingers meet your boxer band.

I want to know the noises you’d make,
and see your face, when we fall together
into your twin bed, in nothing.
 Mar 2013 Claire Ellen
Tim Knight
And we carried that mattress
as if it was coffin;
high above our heads
so the stench of cat ****
would travel down to another
Sunday-night northern family,
probably watching some ****.

Don't think there's a lot of this
going on regularly,
but when your cat has bladder problems
it's best to get on with it.
facebook.com/timknightpoetry >> Cambridge, UK
Next page