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Laokos Mar 2020
inverse my talent
to let go and
be what i'm not.

transverse my axle
and you'll find
a kind of heaven
greasing the pole.

what speaks without words
always, a riddle
unto itself.

the tree of life
is laughing exaltations
in polarizing resplendence.

bright bones are
jubilantly marching
ever deeper into the
triumphant unknown.

we are woven with
mystery, riding waves
of inherited momentum
on a sea of uncertainty.

ex mysterium, ad mysterium

and don't forget about
the punchline -

Ksh Nov 2019
First among many.
That was me, to you; the first from the last.
The last among many.
That was you, to me; the last from the rest.
Quite a nice position, wasn't it?

A woman of many talents,
of many stories that were too late told,
of hardships in silence buried.
A lifetime of rollercoasters,
of standing on a pedestal
and being struck to the ground,
heel to skull, teeth to pavement,
threatening to never let up.

Yet you did, and have not spoken of it since.

Do the words 'too little, too late' ring any bells?
Does the phrase 'less is more' still hold true?

In my mind, I see you in an ocean of darkness
Helpless, and friendless,
suffering in silence.
Yet, you're hardened by years of experience,
of hurt in the dark, of scars in the night.
You, an old dog,
and one of your oldest tricks --
licking your wounds in isolation,
willing the world to do its worst
as you weathered the storm,
one that you've already withstood before.

I can only describe you as an Inverse;
a woman who,
ignoring her own palms skinned to muscle, to bone,
built ramps and laid bridges
to give children enough space to run;
who, turning her back from a life of rejection and hate,
showered everyone with only gratitude, and love,
and everything that she knew she deserved but never received.

You, who brought words to life
in a language so deeply underappreciated,
have rendered the world speechless.
You, who have shown strength
in the face of adversity,
have rendered your blood weak.

A woman of contradictions,
contradictions of the best kind --
for even in death, we celebrate life.
To my late grandmother, who I wish I could have shown more appreciation to when she was still alive. I love you, lola. I wish with all my heart that you knew exactly how much.
B D Caissie Sep 2019
Capture despondency and confine it to verse. Control what is written, your emotions inverse.

Anastasia Aug 2019
My room
Is dark
A web
Of night
But in the corners of my room
Glow handfuls of sunlight
Shining gently
Like yellow fire
Ignatius Hosiana Feb 2018
Will I have you ripe tomorrow,
Or Raw?
will the sweetness be of fruit,
Found this echoverse in my drafts

— The End —