"afterwork" poems
day's almost over
Sun's almost gone
an entire star hidden in the shadow cast by a speck of rock
high on caffeine
while falling asleep
trying to push myself past a mindful minefield of lyrical cynicism
scraping around bottom
goring the core
make a wish upon our shadow star to be a whimsical poet-to-be
flimsy words arise
then fall away
and the head's emptied again from nothing worth remembering
could be better
could be worse
not qualified to judge due to never passing the bar set for myself
eye-ing the time
passing me by
feeling the throb of decay in fingers' muscle memories of home row
finally the night
and darkened peace
stopping to let the words sink in, refresh the mind, and rest the eyes a minute
just resting my eyes
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:46 PM UTC
the river runs through,
pristine waters crossing jagged rocks,
ethereal tidal hands passing on their grace.
the only constant sound in the seclusion offered by pines and spruces,
miles far from crucifying gazes and demeaning canards, not shushed.
well actually it isn’t so far from your place,
but it is from mine and eyes closed, it’s a world away,
with our shadows next to the other’s,
feet swinging in and out of the currents,
rosebud lips and green eyes trained on brown ones, no longer discreet,
soft blur filtered-images.
i was hailed from the flighty and the brisk.
and early on i taught myself not to rely on
anything or trust anyone-
people would offer you poison disguised as milk
and venom-dripping back pats.
but gladly i oblige to drop this excuse for a heart in your graze,
still baring splinters from the plaster walls used to hide my being from the world;
on close fists you can take away my reservations.
promises have always been incredulous for me,
lest I put my trust on dandelion wishes and passing blue cars for you.
the sun goes down and tinting skin in twilight blue.
we’ve stayed for quite long basked in the brook’s mystique.
for a while longer, we stay,
gemstones braided in your hair; a corset paired with my whimsical skirt,
siren-eyed smirks and otherwise illicit touches.
no hunter has come to reveal us in this dwelling place.
the water nymphs witnessed all that we’ve done while in their home-
it’s no secret that the hills and trees have eyes,
hush, for their sight don’t leer nor scorn,
not minding carrying this partial secret,
offering safety in screaming this love out.
now i’m back to drawing your place beside mine on afterwork takeout receipts,
scribbles from memory of the secret place,
and casting my hopes upon the prismatic sky.
the sun shows another day,
and my suncatcher capturing rainbows,
reminding me that our safe space awaits,
where the river runs through.
Jun 3, 2022
Jun 3, 2022 at 10:26 PM UTC
I hear you sing along to Beyoncé's "why don't you love me?"
My Darling do you really want to know why?
I DON'T love you, because you not loving me, makes me want to commit suicide.
I DON'T love you because you call me after you and him have a fight
or you text me on a slow TV night.
I DON'T love you because you "need" me to make a quick run to Frozen Berry
I'm that late night text after the *** was ordinary.
I'm your afterwork friend,
that's good for drinks and money to spend
and we make plans on tuesday but you're "too busy" over the weekend.
So sing it again!
why? WHY DON'T I LOVE YOU
why have i been keeping all this inside?
I don't love you because you won't see the love in my eyes
T.S.
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 9:55 PM UTC
Little Sweat Bee , employ of Spring
Where lies your abode in the afterwork evening
A lair within the grass , a hole in a Oak tree
Little biddy Bee , will you come home with me ?
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 12:06 AM UTC