"bittering" poems
bittering every sweet
thusly shifting arrogant flavor
seems to make all the tears
a dusty eruption over
tongues not built to
ever know such obscenely beautiful oral
Apr 12, 2010
Apr 12, 2010 at 9:47 AM UTC
The lost causes never remember
moonlight matters
it's tapping at your window
Sounds of baby peddles and November
The looming causes fail to comprehend
loneliness lingers
It's ebbing at your elbows
The best of beer bottles and dead ends
The loose causes refuse to acknowledge
Ignorance ignites
It's gnawing as it follows
Daily articles and unrefined polish
The least causes lose sight in the daybreak
blossoms bittering
It will fade as hearts hollow
Graveyard backyards and bone aches
The lone causes acquiesce to uncertainty
pages punctured
It is freeing as it swallows
Sunsets red and abrupt against afternoon purity
The loaned causes shatter against the bribery
Coins cascading
It is a vision as she wallows
Lipstick Luscious and cultivating calvary
The last causes shall never translate
Sculptures scalloped
it is swallowing in shallows
Hoarded hearts and breakup dates
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
clasp me in the jar of your maternity
***** it tight
so that when I sing
it echoes into all the chambers of your heart
reign me in like an
expensive decorative fish
in a shark tank
fly me to the door
slip me out of it
then cry for the good work
you have accomplished.
but forever
shove me
enclose me
encase the colors of your
sorrow
into the flowers of your
joy
for a mother’s greatest
bitter taste
feeds us better than the
richest feast
When I am bittering myself
with butterflies
of my own painting
Don’t stop yourself.
pick up a paintbrush.
forever catch me
latch me
grasp me as your jubilant burden
neglect your sticky fear
for it is evermore
as close as the horizon
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:17 AM UTC
Solemn at sundrop, upon the heavy Terrain I mused,
My sour heart was bittering; a heady
Moon I perused.
Peer & whisper Sorrow to you, Moon,
Sigh for sigh gave
I, as vespers weary into dimmet Soon.
Tears upon grass
That wail, Aye! sparkl'd by
Dim lit ray: but
Steeped in my way,
I mused on the abject fools
Which so do pass
O'er bleakness. Alas!
One with I claim I!
As she clearly befell,
Nightfall raised her well!*
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC