#typography
You cut a dashing figure
between em and en and
oh, by the way
Your abbreviated smile
has me wondering what
it stands for
as I place my finger on
your ellipsis … you lead me on,
there is no doubt
I feel left out
But as we track and kern
our forms, ascending,
make ligatures to avoid
an overlap of strokes
a diphthong doth emerge
o’er our line o’ type
and what was once
paragraphed into separateness,
our thoughts juxtaposed
begins to merge
(bind in parentheses)
you’n’me make syncope
and, once the story forms,
the digraphs make shapes
with our mouths.
Oct 22, 2020
Oct 22, 2020 at 4:53 PM UTC
Pilcrow, the Blind P,
once said,
"Allow me, ma'am/sir,
for it looks like
you could use a break.
Besides, Hedera is hard
and annoying, so full of herself,
and up to her neck in ivy."
That was a Snark.
But who could tell?
Simply forgot to point it out.
Guess it's better to
leave things unsaid.
In the end
there's only enough
room for the Asterism.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 8:53 PM UTC
You can control love,
as you type.
You can change the style,
which evokes feeling.
Script — curvy lines,
fitting for passion.
Sans Serif — Strong,
but friendly.
Grunge — Anger or,
vengeful.
Serif — Elegant,
and structured.
This four letter word —
is a shapeshifter.
Shifting styles, weights and
kerning on a whim.
You can control love,
highlight and change it.
Again.
But, love is fluid,
as fonts are to typographers,
as words are to poets.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 9:48 AM UTC
And if goodbye is in the wind,
I would rather suffocate.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 8:35 AM UTC
In my silence you found PEACE,
In your silence I found DEMISE.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
If tomorrow
means goodbye
Can we say hello
today one last time?
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 9:31 PM UTC
Hell, isn't it?
Your insides yearning to flee.
Don't give me that look, you ****
You deluded yourself, not me.
Didn't I warn you?
Didn't I tell you to stop?
But you said you could handle it.
You said you'll never tap.
But why is this house now empty?
Where did the warmth go?
I told you it will never be easy.
But you opted to start the show.
Now you left me with nothing.
As you ran yourself to hide.
You just proved again what a fool I am.
For trusting you sublime.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Forgive me my Little One
That you have to see and endure this crunch
I know you long for your old man
But he chose to leave and will never have the chance.
My heart aches when you look for him
You’re way too young to understand his whim
But know that I’ll never leave your side
However things turn out on the other side.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 4:10 PM UTC
Hush dear child, Mama's got this.
Fear none, my shields are endless.
You and I, we're infinite;
Forever threading the waves of life.
Highs and lows.
Scars behold.
Together we'll rise unscathed.
Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 3:39 PM UTC
My thinking is in bold,
but my words in lower-case.
She dreams in italics,
but,
unfortunately,
speaks in CAPITALS.
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 5:22 PM UTC
At twilight,
in my deep slumber,
I roused to the rumble of thunder;
with dense showers soaking me tender,
Streaks of light sparkling like cinder,
roaring with dander, down came
*T
H
E*
***B
O
L
T***
that S RUCK my fence.
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 4:02 AM UTC
your smile breaks me.
it shakes the dust off my bones, only
to shatter them into a million pieces. when i'm
trembling, the thought of you warms me back to
life, only to **** me when i no longer sense the ice
snaking up to my throat. you twisted my heart
(without trying...without. even. knowing.)
and the wrinkles of it peeled right off.
i don't know what i was thinking
when i let this mess begin,
but i do know that
i never want
it to
en
d;
.
.
.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
I love it when you type letters
with your fingertips
on my skin
backspacing my faults
and joining my freckles
letter by letter
until you’ve created a new word.
Sometimes,
you discover a new universe in the obscure abyss
and mark that with an asterisk.
In the morning,
you would press kisses
between the parenthesis of my smile
and bite ellipsis
on the crook of my neck
so that I would wake with your watermark.
I still remember that day
when you assured me
you are just a space bar away and
I am a story you will never finish writing.
"I promise,darling
that you will be filled with caesuras but no period.”
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 8:23 AM UTC
Lawrence, it’s um, doll…
or i see, i met a con
executioner.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 5:43 AM UTC
Form,
Function.
I sculpt
The words inside
The frame of aesthetic perfection
Every letter, every space, in its rightful place.
But who is right to proclaim
The words beautiful
When without
Essence?
Thoughts
Are written
The image implied
Through a painting much unseen
Every word, every break, something that I make.
But where can there exist
Elegant phrase, which
Concludes with
Widows?
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
I want you to see all the stories I’ve written for you
But I’m scared the characters will chip and fall apart
Serifs sharp like broken glass
Are you still breathing
while you drown in me?
There is a curve
In soft vowels that create you
and any letter that drops below the baseline, like a sinking rock in the murky shores
My words more often than not drift like wood at sea
Part of something once
But no longer whole
And crushed constantly by blue waves of doubt
That pushes and pulls me
Into every direction
Every lighthouse I've ever seen
has never shined bright enough
to guide me home
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC