Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 May 2015 Kira Ferguson
em
x
 May 2015 Kira Ferguson
em
x
you are my fuzzy vision when I stand up too quickly.
you are the sweetness at the bottom of my hot chocolate.
you are peaches and plums and black berries.
you are my sixth grade secret and my tenth grade regret.
you are bitten nails and shaking hands and warm hugs and soft skin.

when you are next to me I try to breathe you in.
and when you are far away I try to find you in these words.
I try to find you in your photos.

I can always find you in the song we listened to while you told me you were falling apart.
I see you in the picture of you smiling I took of you the day you told me you weren't sure that you would be alright.
When I look at a clock I can hear you whispering that you want to die into my ear as I tried to hold all your pieces together. tight. tight. tight.
Princess of the Tiny Snails
breaks bread with the Lotus and the Shrub.
It is said by some
that she entered the world as a Tigerlilly
and was, by force of will alone, made flesh;
others say she plucks diamonds from raindrops
and places them like dew to leaf at sunrise
such that the earth itself shimmers at her passing.

Princess of the Tigerlilly skin
breathes the thunder from nimbus
her whisper a rolling blur
and shouts are as nova
like the old Gods defied
Draft: to be edited
Copyright ©2010-2014 Sean Winslow All Rights Reserved

This best characterized in the silencing of a crickets song
or the ripples of the despot cosmic

Princess of the Silenced Song
.....
 Sep 2014 Kira Ferguson
Nomad
Alone again,
in this hall of brotherhood,
I reflect upon my life,
on which I so shakily stood.
Admittedly with my fair share of victories and defeats,
my humble losses, and triumphant applause, at the very least.

Alone again,
I stare at these pictures, on which I knew the very faces
of old ones past, well past into the dawn,
now I look in the book of faces and wonder,
my friend, my dear, dear friend...how far have you gone?

How far have you gone, that you've wandered in vain,
looking for perfection, attention, you name to be mentioned,
go through all that trouble, just for yourself, all that pain.

You went through,
some times alone,
some times not,
didn't you know friend?

At times, you were all I got?

That was then, the days of timidness is over,
long gone is the shy princesses, and come the wild rover.

Now these photos of you, me, and the rest of them,
are all faded over,
aye, along now with you old friend,
along with you, you wild rover.

I can no longer participate in your childish game,
for the Lord has told me, You are a man now, now put the childish way away all the same!

He hath commanded, and so I obey.

Gone are the years of childhood, where we could play.
Perhaps in another time, much farther from now,
we could've gotten so much closer,
if you got past your bubble,
if only you knew how.

My friend, of many years past,
it's been good, good indeed, but unfortunately, it did not last.

Now we must go our separate ways,
I wish you nothing but good fortune, and good health,
for all, and all of your life-long days.



Yes, my friend, I'll miss what we once shared,
for our friendship could not be compared,
but alas, you have strayed so far, from whence I last saw you,
you've gone past the point, where I didn't know what to do.

I'll miss you, and the others as well,
but your antics and all,
should not cost me a place,
a placed as deserving as Hell.

I'm sorry lad,
but this is for the best,
you can always come back to visit,
after you've had your rest.

My door is always open, my ears, even more so,
but please my friend seek help for yourself,
if you stayed clean for once, who knows ** far you could go!

My friend, I hope, I pray,
that this is not our departing goodbyes.
But should it be, then I suppose it is,
and I bid you farewell, adieu, until next time,
with a blasted tear,
trickling down my eye.

I'll miss you. My old friend.


I'll keep the photos of all of us,
no matter how faded they may be,
for old times sake, for you...
and for me.

I'm sorry.
and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it
 Aug 2014 Kira Ferguson
SG Holter
There once was a town in the world.
In this little town, lived a girl.
She barely could write,
But sat up all night.
Carefully carving each word.

The poem she wrote was a dream.
A thought that had grown, it'd seem.
The frailest of strands;
Words woven by hands.
Like droplets of diamond
Downstream.

The morning sun shone on the stairs.
He sat there, his face holding tears.
Her father, and all
That little girl called
Her family, burdened with fears.

She sat down beside the poor man.
Put paper inside his strong hand.
She left him to read,
As if sowing a seed.
And so, the whole healing began.

Her words had a life of their own.
Of wisdom beyond any known.
They spoke of a place
That was floating in space,
Yet it's beings were far from alone.

Why cry when there's laughter?  
Why fight when there's dance?
Why hate when there's family,
Fun and romance?


Her words were so simple, so clean.
Yet painted in colours unseen  
Through verses and lines,
And symbols and signs...
To adults, elders, infants and teens.

It took not religion, it seems.
No army, no guns or machines.
To shape this old world
To the words of a girl
With paper, a pen... and a dream.
I sit, procrastinate and wonder
How my country became sundered.
I'm referring in this to my country Sudan which used to be one country until July 9th 2011 when both the North and South separated and each became an independent country cause of civil wars of political and peace conflicts which were going on for 30 years. It just saddens me to see how divided and messed up we are.
 Aug 2014 Kira Ferguson
Unknown
Memories crumble to dust
Bricks of remembrance
Thrown angrily from the windows of my eyes
Shattering the glass seven floors up

At the bottom
The feet of those on the first floor
Had to walk on shards of regret
A treacherous, ****** movement
And in the end got no where
But back to the stained carpets
Screaming inside the walls
Of a house
Not a home

The second floor
Tenants fell to their knees
Begging for the first floor
To relax
The commotion was just
Too much too handle
Rattling the weakened, buckled walls

The third floor
They were frightened from the up rise of chaos
Got sick to the stomach
And doubled over in pained retrospect
Because they left their windows open
And swallowed air
Instead of pride

The fourth floor
Was broken beyond repair
Cracked right down the middle
Blood seeped from it's fissured walls
Like an arrow wound to the heart
Those inside sprawled in puddles of conflict

The fifth floor
Was out of bandages
For the fourth floor
They used them for mouth covers
So the sixth floor above couldn't smell
The lies on their breath

The sixth floor
Always did hold a nose in the air
But that couldn't hide them from trouble
They were stuffy, and often full
As though the tears that often ran down the bridges
Were more than the emotional pressures
They could carry at once

The seventh floor
Was tired of everything
Constantly red and with teary eyes
They stared down upon the whole scene
Disgusted with the image presented
So they threw the newest memories out
And watched them crumble to dust
Seven floors down
 Aug 2014 Kira Ferguson
Jack
~

Take my hand, I’ll lead the way
Through oatmeal frosted cookie fields
The two of us will run and play
Enjoying all this vision yields
~
Candy coated pebble lanes
Lined with chocolate butter creams
Fence line melted sugar cane
Here among our wildest dreams
~
So much love I have for you
As we stroll this paradise
Whipped cream sea foam as our view
And your beauty, very nice
~
Hold me close as now we lay
Neath strawberry pudding skies
Kiss me once more on this day
As I gaze into your eyes
~
Spearmint gumdrop pines they sing
Melodies we love to hear
Through red velvet clouds to bring
All we see so crystal clear
~
Marshmallow whips and jelly beans
Lemon drops from up above
Life is more than what it seems
*When it’s shared with one you love
Wonderful poet, beautiful friend...I just love writing with her
 Aug 2014 Kira Ferguson
Jack
~


Come float with me on velvet sound
As music floats the evening air
With melodies of hope now found
And timeless days we both shall share

The setting sun of curtains bright
So full of life and amber glow
Does dance the heavens curtained light
Brought forth in this, its daily show

To walk this course, the songs we sing
That lovers feel and hearts do shine
As harmonies of dusk now ring
In rhythms which are set to time

For dreams you see are cast in gold
With linings shimmering the sky
Till twilight lends its somber soul
Of silhouettes to pass us by

Where shadows play a subtle game
To win but only heart's desire
And passions form the poet's flame
In words that you alone require

Of patterns pure on violet skies
Enlightened as the moon beams pass
To see your face before my eyes
And feel your touch does come at last

For it is always what I dream
In lasting sound of lyrics true
To lay before this twilight scene
And sing the song of love to you
For my sweet friend Calpurnia Mockingbird...may you smile always shine.
Next page