"clamshells" poems
Twisting like fingers,
caught around these curtains –
a pattern, two colors and
more dimensions than the sea.
One wave shivers upon
our house’s shoulders, neck.
It looks so aged and wrinkled.
The rash makes rafts
of its skin, purpled from burn
and the nerves become tin
cans or rooms without guests:
she napped on the bone.
Jealous that there is not
flowerpots in less, not color –
death’s but a mirror of black.
And giving pearls to
maids: I watched them pick
the suede from clamshells
and become a mother flood.
Nature was here with
dovetailing white linen sheets
soiled by flame, cancer birth.
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 7:26 PM UTC
give it up for the "get down's",
frown with a clown soul,
dont pretend -
clamshells break my friend.
sentenced to life in a paragraph.
get high for the low life's.
i shoot cops through a needle
straight to my heart.
paraphrased a life sentence.
only one lesson lessens.
and time drags and flies away,
one more city to bury
in static dreams .
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Let us share
an incantation of the old world
Let us unfurl words like a string of pearls
torn from ocean deep - I battled Krakens
to bring you these words – let me wreathe
the drowning seed of ancient demons
in a modern tale of high rise jewellery
You can wear me at your leisure
for I am a book of poetry - open in your hands
caress my pages - I offer ages of wisdom in sand
strung sorrowful about a stony neck
can you see the mystery of that cloud
striated by the mountains tip carved
deep into the sky in defiance of the wind
unbowed by time yet so vulnerable
to lion and tiger, to the hermit and his tearful rain
did you know that every beach was once a mountain?
so every ocean floor kissed the sky in its youth
let us built these fragments into clamshells
string them on pearlescent pages turned
by curious eyes and ponder how time
makes a mystery or a monster of us all
Let us share
this incantation of the old world
for in words
we can live forever
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 10:05 PM UTC
It must be strange to have five feet,
Which open clamshells nice and neat,
And hunt the shallow ocean floor,
Equipped with these and little more.
One day washed up high and dry,
Underneath the arid sky,
To end your days on some child's shelf.
I think I'd rather be myself.
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 8:58 PM UTC
*Can we live in a forest ?
Go to a place where the
paths don't change.
Kiss under the shade of
trees and make out in
piles of leaves.
Can we sleep on gentle
earth's damp grounds ?
Drink our juice out of fresh
fruits.
And build a home from roots
and tree branches.
I got a lot planned for me
and you.
And I love you. It's true
I do.
You can adjust wild flowers
in my beard.
And i'll put dandelions and
weeds in your hair.
They'll look prettier than
clamshells i swear.
You can brush my hair with
your little hands.
And we'll make clothes out
of leaves and plants.
Give it a thought my dear.
And tell me if we can live
in a forest or a place that's
at least a little near* ~
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 10:57 AM UTC
I’m from the roaring of the red four-wheeler,
The swiftly mudded depths of the nishana,
The sand covered clamshells,
Buried deep into the deep water.
Thinking that I’m part mermaid.
Coming up from the white wonders like powder sugar that gets
sprinkled on the fudge brownies my grandma makes.,
Shivering after being tipped to what I thought was my death.
Being warmed by grandma’s famous brownies that just came
out of the oven like I was a brownie baking in the oven.
Helping my grandpa flatten out the land,
For another Weppler Sleigh party,
Before the snow brings the wonders of joy.
I’m from the limbs I find,
In the woods making forts.
Having to be mysterious because I’m wanted
From having the best imaginary friend anyone could have.
Coming home to the smell of hard work knowing my dad is home.
Thanking him for all he had done for this family.
I soon snuggle down into my fluffy bedding
waiting for sleep to overcome me
knowing that I'm safe in the warm house I call home.
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 9:18 PM UTC