Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2015
When I was young
I saw Gagarin
Waving through a moonbeam

That same year
A single electron
Went from my finger
To the doorknob.

She was a radical.

In those days
I was convinced that the
Cocoon was a casket
Would bury it whole
When it came back empty
You thought it went to heaven.

We built homes
For the salamander
Picked them from the mud
Moved them into plastic boxes
And swore to never let it
Live in such poor conditions.

How could they live like that.

When I was young
My eyes saw so much love
It spread in every direction.
We called it the love canal,
Because it was so toxic.

Sometimes if you would listen
You could hear the trees
Whispering wisdom to the pine cones
Singing lullaby’s about
fireside farmers.

We would hide them from the spiders
because we hadn't yet learned
How to commit ******.

I used to think
That the raindrops were lonely
Because they were always
Holding themselves in.

You'd collect them in a glass jar
Thin enough for their worries
To creep up the sides,
And convinced me that they had
Found someone to talk to.

Our hands were stained with blackberries
Tasted sweet like the honeysuckles
On the other side of the thorn bushes
Where you found the fattest bumble bee
And told me that honey came from its throw up.
I still eat honey.

In the winter
We built a snowman.
Named him jolly old saint ****,
And I sat inside until
All he left me was coal.

At the north pole
There were three elves
Who in the summer
Built sandcastles
In their dreams
But over Christmas
They made salamander
Soup kitchens.

In a cornfield
I found myself.
Three skipping stones
I kept them in my pocket
Until it reached the shoreline.
They're still drowning.

Here's to the kids who
Never got to go
Trick or Treating,
But were **** good
At being someone else.

You and I,
We did our math in pen.
We never made the
Same mistake twice.

We didn't smudge,
We smeared.
And there was never
Any doubt
That you and I,
Were here.
David N Juboor
Written by
David N Juboor  Remote
(Remote)   
491
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems