The lone stark bugle cry—
Horn of the great mountain elk,
Ripples down cold through morning
Dusted wood as the mushrooming dews        
Drop into dearly waded pools under
Fawning toes of forage and cool
Evergreen.

Everybody died today,
metamorphosis - never completed.
Maturity entrapped the folks,
even the children, teeny, tiny babes,
The stars never danced in their eyes;
the sky wouldn't allow Starry Nights.
I only ever told stories, those Wisdoms
passed on from my grandpap,
dissed in the corners of the streets,
I look up for my internal stars
and wish these people would combust
and finally clear the air
so my grandpap could breathe.

he only wanted to be heard


7/30/14
PPropper

read between the sloppy lines
of drunk texts and high poems
scrawled upon pages of telephone books
in black bold letters, black slippery ink

i remember the days when you were mine
loved the ***, loved the roses
all your side-long glances and pretty looks
but without you i have gotten better,
in deaths quick sands i no longer sink

i miss you, honey,
but we'll never love again
when pages turn and our story ends,
read between the lines of my drunk texts,
and you will find me.

We wanted to be big girls since we were little ones
we used mom's lipstick
and pretended we were mature and pretty enough
to have red, bright lips
and shiny, size six golden shoes

mum used to tell me I was pretty
and she let me use her lipstick
but I didn't really like it
so I rushed to the backyard

I tangled wild flowers in my hair
usually mixed with dandelions
and mint leaves
sometimes a couple of ladybugs came by

and after that I just stood there
being happy
and crowning myself
as the Butterfly Queen

and mum got angry
because I was a mess
and my hair was tangled
and full of dirt
seems like flowers in my hair
didn't make me pretty at all

but now I am a grown up, and I am happy too,
because I can put eyeliner without getting teary eyes
and I can tangle mint leaves in my hair:

*mum can't yell at an adult now, huh?

hawaiian flowers light my eyes up in that way that men used to
instead of breaking me apart the way that dead leaves crunch beneath heavy boots
i've never been met halfway in the sense of love
as i am always chasing, giving, unfolding, while they are
closing, solidifying, lying

so i too became rocks, but i glittered in the sun light
i was a ruby, red as dripping blood,
but oh so blue, like that fluid, still in your veins
i greeted the selfish with open arms and legs
and let them enter me with hardly a fight
not saying i should've,
never said i was a saint

soon enough i opened another eye
and looked at someone with more than just my mind
he turned away before i could show him
a world he had never known.

and here i am,
alone again
waiting, playing
bored and aroused
internally screaming
for someone to save me.

I think this year I’ll get you
A box of diapers
Because you never grew up.

(Dork.)