"curseless" poems
Curseless truths in breatheless beings
only tears consume me now
inhaling in hate
exhaling my love
for it will never disappear
for my heart lies in shards
destroyed by your hate
that could all be healed
by three simple words
that no one will ever mean
Oct 25, 2010
Oct 25, 2010 at 12:56 PM UTC
words stumble between teeth
this house has pitfalls instead of windows
silence is a stethoscope full of tears
in this girdle, the cage of pain
when the day’s edges play hide and seek
with my drained smile
I wait like a statue of salt
for this faraway yearning
to grow
curseless eyes
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 4:28 PM UTC
A room of many doors.
This is not what I meant.
Doe white walls, half lit from what light?
The sensation of option leaves quickly
as the rain that never comes.
How long am I to stagger along these walls
curseless as a ghost, feeble handed
and trailing fingers
claspless along every groove and *****
of brass, of wood, of parchment?
How to wind circles in a square?
What flat universe has swallowed me
only to reconfigure the obvious parts?
I feel that something stares through me
dull as a hammer
and I melt like glass
lungless and ugly,
watching the dead pile outside the windows
-so much condensation for so much blue.
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 12:20 AM UTC