gmb: Favorites

Mar 2018 gmb

touka

a blip
on a blight
on a mote
on a microbe
a sea of stardust
black silk
and white rope

hung
above her head
passing, people start to pour in
and limbs hang like they're dead
tingle with their poor sin

a bead
on a brow
on a cry
quiet mystery
a blip
on a blight
on a brick
in the wall

phase
the night, the numbs a haze
the sounds, the stars that scattered
how far she'd had the ache
how slight, the rings of saturn

a haste
on a heart
to calm it down
a push, a pull
to soak it in
the art around

so small, then
regret sets in
the song in the room
and the ghost let in
long that one would leave it soon

a pulse,
a parse
and a hubric hope
tense,
tingling, the sinking *****
sinks into
the stars around

"it's all a blur, happened way too fast
but I'm glad that it's what we had"

#stars #space #anxiety #idk

Mar 2018 gmb

special

Mar 2018 gmb

Gem

special

i don't want to overlook what you've showed me
the colors bleed over your smooth disposition
the sweet melody flows across the ridges i've built

only you can pacify my thoughts
only you can rewrite the damning words already cemented
only you can protect and preserve while
unlocking the hidden meaning
behind my eyes

i never knew what i could see
you taught me how to
breathe in cosmic air
breathe out cosmic fire

i taught myself to follow you
inhale your spectacular visions
if you live in a mystical world,
then maybe i can too?

#admiration #love

Mar 2018 gmb

apush

Mar 2018 gmb

milo

apush

the hallway is too bright for six fourty five am words
(you still end up looking soft in it)
morning bites at my cheeks smiling nothings with you on our way to sleepy history class

i want to fill liminal spaces with you
i want to be bright and undeniable
and write your burning words in the stars
we’ll walk endless 0 period hallways
under permanently purple skies
and it’ll replace her last words, spoken in cold morning air
with your name over and over

Mar 2018 gmb

à huis clos

Mar 2018 gmb

touka

à huis clos

I am prone

kicking the door
banging, beating on the hollow wood

the nerve, I need

it hits heavy, it hits hard
like my hand hits the abused oak

but not enough alone

maybe angry, desperate fist
no answer cares to call to me

clawing til I crawl to sleep

prone, and cold

forget that shame is mine to own
forget that knobs ******* under me

push the luck I've so far escaped
push myself against the frame

prone
wipe the rain that drips from my brow
prone to cold
raise a storm to blow it down

still knocking, still knocking.

#rain

Mar 2018 gmb

small keys

Mar 2018 gmb

touka

small keys

I find myself

in improvised dances
to songs that scratch at the shadows
of songs before them

I find myself

in blue light that flickers
wavers by the bedside
sends out a sharp, musical sound
just when I feel it's gotten too quiet

I find myself

in colors, complementary
proud on the screen
flashing expertly in the heart of a scene

and I find myself

in the stories of people who are lost
who cannot find themselves
who jut out from their imposed pages
drenched, pouring the thick ink
that makes up the prose
of their pain and passion

so, I find myself

in silly, stealing, fleeting things
in things that time will wear, eat and tear
in pages, in notes, in shared thoughts and vibrant colors
but in each new finite, fictional summer
I find myself there
in its sugar-coated, sweetened care

how I'd love to tie my life up with
bareness, raw knuckles and fists
in a brawl that teases its brevity
and once it's won, maybe a true love kiss
tie it into a neatly knotted bow
and sign the end page with an authors flourish

#fiction #books #literature #animation #art #music

Mar 2018 gmb

lucy in the sky with diamonds

Mar 2018 gmb

remington carter

lucy in the sky with diamonds

lying facedown on the train tracks;
home is where the heart is.
i sharpen my alibi on my mother’s bones
blink blink blink
the rays of the sun gouge my eyes out and
i blink, feeding on her conscience
through roots in the dirt.
regret metastasizes inside of me
like the very consumption that killed her

i found a way out, what now?
the daylight picked out my ribs one by one
the moon died and i buried her in the flowerbeds.
brave molly, come save me, the train's at the station

maybe today
i can talk to myself
out loud on the way there.
primal scream therapy.

(in between bittersweet fragments of memory
i can say your name without—
gangrene makes a home within my brittle skull.
cyanotic lips preach to me the
everlasting weight of my sin)

today
i’ll talk to myself out loud
on the way there
and maybe the echo won't
sound so **** scared

it's taken me one grueling year to be able to write again. logging back into HP and seeing everyone's beautiful writing again has made me so happy. i really did miss you guys

#eighteen #birthday #trauma #love #heartbreak

Mar 2018 gmb

sweet and low

Mar 2018 gmb

mira

sweet and low

red checkerboards collect dust and fade but brown eyes are steadfast

unravel strings of my soul
static newscasters float through the floor like pennsylvania snow into the soil
it is easy to say your soul will rest there but to do so is to forget.
as surely as coffee came with every meal i can say that a soul with roots so deep and leaves so broad never rests
as wisely as a principal gives his life for a child's i know that such a soul's essence does not dissipate beneath the force of mourning
as purely as minted coins glistened in your young palms i can feel that a soul like yours never ceases to grow.
you have forgotten more than i will ever learn. you have given more than i will live to take.
for now solace comes in a full man's full life
shine on me until we meet again

poem for my grandpas funeral

Feb 2018 gmb

winston-salem

Feb 2018 gmb

touka

winston-salem

ice collects around the window

I collect myself, collect my things

pick at the threads hanging from my clothing

on the way back through these heavy-eyed roads

batting my lashes at its sopitive sounds

patiently thrumming strings

waiting for patience to part with me

again

I possess myself

hang from the height of this parting breeze

no doubt that if it's picked me up, it will set me down

and someone from the passenger seat

exchanges a pithy parting glance

again

I possess myself

maybe somewhere unknown

I collect myself, collect strewn things

possess myself to collect dust

and feel it like small bugs stalking up my spine

as the bustle and buckle of the beltway

buzzes and rattles where my back touches the seat

breath fights me for its own space

again

I possess myself, remind myself

it rains somewhere, it's a different time somewhere –
someone, somewhere
pops the top off of their wine,
resigned to the sticky spill of its cherry scent,
drinks it alone and sinks into their dulled senses
possesses themselves to make it their last bottle,
patient for their parting sigh

someone, somewhere else,
pops the top off of their wine
giddy at the squeak and snap,
heart fluttering at the cherry scent
as it bubbles over the lip of the bottle
they present it to their lover
in two carefully poured glasses
patient in their honeymoon sigh

someone, I'm sure
stakes the highway line
somewhere,
maybe not too far from this home of mine
collects their dust in a similar fashion
prone, picked up on a gust of passion
possesses the last small comfort yet to be robbed
in imagining the same system of cogs
that turn under the same cover of sky
and pulls from it a patient sigh

comfort in compathy