Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
rivy Jan 2023
the museum of my heart
has a blurry picture of his green eyes
the boy whose I name I never knew

there's a special exhibit
of all the bathrooms I had a breakdown in

there's polaroid pictures hanging
of all the friends I lost through the years
and all the friends who lost me

there's the poetry I wrote about them
words written in red ink and messy handwriting

there's statues of copper and tin
of all the lovers who couldn't love me

there's a constant humming of white noise and lo-fi
echoes of unspoken words I kept and ones I never heard

there's a selection of wingless butterflies
and a collection of blunt pencil sharpener blades

there's a basket of fortune cookies
and every single piece of paper carries the same aphorism:
"amidst the loneliness, the things you loved will forever haunt you."

there's old tv sets and a stack of DVD's
of all the films I wish I'd seen

there's all the skeletons I've hidden
secrets written on napkins and snuck between the wall cracks

there's a brand new guillotine and a golden noose
carefully kept for anyone who tries to hurt me

there's blackberry trees, an open ceiling
and dark splatters covering the ground beneath it

there's a chapel with empty seats and burned bible verses
rose petals and pink, lilac and blue candles
where an altar waits for a future love's mementos

there's a fountain of sweat, blood & tears

there's me standing in the corner
waiting to hand you your ticket and lure you in

there's angels and devils praying that you make it to the end of the tour
Zywa Jan 2023
The Knitting Needles Museum
has a prudish name
that frightens the schoolchildren
and obscures the oppression
of desperate and ***** women

The torture museum
and the war museum also
lack the inspiration
from a muse
They are monuments

and should be called that
With the unbuilt museums
of destroyed art and
ancient cultures, they can
fill a street in any city

'Ecce ****', behold man
the noble beast, the master
of things and nothings -
virtual and vanished
worlds that are unlivable
Collection "PumicePieces"
Zywa Sep 2022
I have a store full
of old things, it is difficult
to ensure

that they are not sold
to snobs with no idea
of their real value

without the slightest idea
that it cannot be expressed
in their money

only in tax money, annually
to be collected for maintenance
and everything that comes with it

to have the works viewed
by those who are interested
and that can be anyone

which is hard to accept
for barbarians who get rich
from constant replacement
Collection "Lilith's Powers" #74
Raven Feels Jan 2022
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, best alone again:>

their tongues spoke in languages of dim black
not for the people, not for the universe, just for the humane lack
their mercuries slipped into a coma of grace
is it too much of an ask to grant a questioning face?
their secrets molded, intertwined, & folded
for the eyes to formulate the truth from the lie sorted
their breathes sent  beat to their hearts to syncopate that keeper
then feels out of their laces or not just them alone in the Ether
their dreams although vanished weren't a matter of none
for the hurt to be a double impressionist's helixed one
their souls craved for a carve of that humble form
so do they submit to rain & dance under the thundering storm?
cliché or not
somethings are left unsaid without a period dot
blunt or rude
better feel shame from faults than when ****
what does it mean, to be delicate's recipient ?
to be an exception to the head of a never lenient?
what does these ancient walls say?
if the colors of the face couldn't cover up before that end day?
a crime to deny them sensations
to get to know someone in six conversations

the sky was grey and i couldn't feel my body.
my head was heavier than suburban slammed doors,
and the presence of sidewalk strangers
sent trembles of panic through to my core.
my ears are already pierced,
but i winced at high school football whistles
and garbage trucks
and rattling engines
and raised voices.

do you remember the museum?
do you remember burying your head in your dad's shoulder
because the world they warned you about
was too grey for your hazel eyes and golden soul?

don't forget.
it is not a world you have to live in.
you must not find safety in greyness.
there is none for you there
you belong somewhere so much brighter
Zywa Nov 2021
In the museum, the wind blows
from everywhere to everywhere, like us
visitors from all over the world

We carry a culture web, nourish it
with the collections of the museums
which are larger than their buildings

We carry the art
with us, it is greater than we are
greater than our time and abode

We carry out the art
the history that connects us
and always does continue where it ends
Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam

Collection "The migration"
Raven Feels Jul 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, cold bot still bold:)

just a visit
lifts the limits
for the color of blood to become a stranger
now my hopes are all in danger
do I avoid the future be a savior?
do I souvenir the past a cinnamon flavor?
people you knew
not pictures the memory drew
like the bone failed it pains
to sustain
then in blink to be fractured drained
the mirror cries with me
but in my head laughs and mocked screams
now not my territory
maybe a new ceremony
me attending alone
counting stars and skipping stones
am I the weird one?
the dresses on the opposite borders not fitting
on that ferris wheel I stay sitting
the skied view more interesting than the far party track
staring at one piece when the museum is packed

Zywa Apr 2021
Come in, I kiss your eyes
I'll show you everything
Take your time, come as often as you like
and you will leave satisfied

Take a bath
in all my colours – soft
like powder brushes they caress
your look

I embrace your attention
with the gold of history
Here everything is
forever young

Unconditionally, I fold myself
to your needs
I give
images you'll never forget

Be surprised, enchanted, thrilled
Come inside and flow
through me
I'm there for you
Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam

Collection "The migration"
Zywa Apr 2021
Prosperity in city and country, see
the light under the clouds in the showroom
of earthly paradise, see

a glimpse of ourselves
in the looks of those days
the beauty of their attention

their desires
in younger years of the world –
the same as ours

We process and preserve
we build and improve
we create the beauty

in which we want to live
Here it is collected, see
it is good
Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam

Collection "The migration"
Zywa Apr 2021
The world a maze
under the nut tree
in this well-arranged garden

Follow a path
learn how it goes
what is important

Travel with strangers
experiencing the secret
with our senses

And reach further
re-create the world
beyond our lives

This is our world
how it was and can be
carefully we reach

For beauty and stories
we reach
for contact

With other lives
we connect
we connect
from heart to heart
Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam

Collection “The migration”
Next page