"albumen" poems
I am a grave poetic hen
That lays poetic eggs
And to enhance my temperament
A little quiet begs.
We make the yolk philosophy,
True beauty the albumen.
And then gum on a shell of form
To make the screed sound human.
4.2k
Here are my eyes
my fried eggs
teal lily-pads floating
on white albumen.
Here are my elbows
like deformed peaches
my knuckles the peas
wrist corn on the cob.
Here are my teeth
my frosty Stonehenge
a ring of slabs
solid halibut.
Here are my ankles
four gobstoppers
cracking as rocks
under her size-five feet.
Here is my nose
fastened to my face
the garbage chute
meets hoover hybrid.
Here are my knees
two wrinkled potatoes
mashing in their sockets
as waves crumble on me.
Here is my hair
my straw candyfloss
unlike her buttered popcorn
curly-wurly waterfall.
Here are my tonsils
squashy strawberries
wedged at the back
of the cave I once made.
Here are my lips
azalea-pink sweets
flecked with salt
from our slice of sea.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
You held the dreams I had for my happiness
like a swallow's egg in your outstretched hand.
The bird is happy, flitting where it will but knowing where home is
A home built together
a home that is safe.
How you stand with the yellow-rich yolk
slowly dripping,
and albumen sliding
and all that is fertile and promises and future
crushed in a single impulsive spasm.
Your heart hid your secrets
which kept the bird coming back
and the tricks that kept her feeling safe
are shoddy and cruel in the light of day.
Now, she knows.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
a portrait dodged on my mind
spotted and retouched
silhouetted in the grainy penumbra
a soft-focus smile with a motion blur
at the edges of the mouth
where the fixer could not hold
candid grey card hand pushing the negative
framed by the infrared cautions
my perspective agitated in my stomach
a stop bath of underdeveloped words
like a graveyard for my depth of field
those muted views from your apartment door
solarized in the albumen light of our distance
a carte-de-visite from your camera obscura
rapping on my ribcage like my heart is
enlarging and must be cropped
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
etiolated shell
ball bearings for knuckles
crimson branches
that shudder in the albumen
of the eyes
palms riddled with skinny rivers
navy straws
wrist fissures
roots of calcium
punctured silver
carrier-bag lungs
interior accordion
sack of cherry fluid
limited edition
throbbing blob
in the mirror
yourself not quite
yourself
unchosen blueprint
modified mainframe
filled with tea
and slabs of cheese
envelope of bones
cauldron brewing
on and again on
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 5:39 PM UTC
When life kick you down the street
Like a football with its spiny boot
Shove your mouth and nose - unease
To ***** muddy albumen, licking the mucous
In these chaild,
Eat the heart of a lion, never go wild.
When life feed you
With cactus and hot coal
Wear on you rags, no shoes
And river of tears to your eyes-bank deposited
In these chaild,
Befriend Noah's dove, never go wild.
When life race you across the country track
With no show-dime of a can as trophy
And your contender who race not half a round
Wins a golden trophy, laughing at your lime
In all these chaild,
Marry to yourself a tortoise, never go wild.
Many Great, you see today at the top ladder
Are victims of life sour-lime
Yet, they wore the boot of courage,
Put on the garment of hope,
Body-armour of patience
And now! Ladybug lives in their nest for never going wild
Feb 15, 2017
Feb 15, 2017 at 4:32 AM UTC
I was an egg.
Tough exterior, and complicated but soft on the inside.
My chalaza
You held me together.
Kept my soul in place.
I was albumen, yolk, air space, membranes...
*You were my chalaza*
and then you weren't
You ripped yourself from me, broke my membranes right from the inside.
My yolk crashed with nothing to hold
My air followed you out
I was left to suffocate in pieces of myself, damaged in a way I could never repair
Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 2:47 AM UTC