"gingko" poems - Hello Poetry

On the way back to my rural house, I thought about goodbye and how you just left as a deer crossing the highway. I could do that now – I have a paycheck, I do not need my parents to sign for us to marry or be taken off of birth control so we can have babies. My feet no longer wobble when I climb into a train car. These rainy nights are like gingko supplements because now I can remember everything about you and I. Your too-thin-for-winter pajamas on the carpet, your nonchalant manner of breaking my heart. I knew then to be a detective: my mission to abort goodbyes just to forgive you for old hurts and whatever else I may find. Through my veins runs cranberry juice, red as blood frozen over from the winter of mine that you ruined. It is June and you are still sorry for what you did, it is June and now I am sorry, too. Sadness made my ribcage sprout into a ripened peach tree – cut them open, nothing’s inside. We are all runaways.

0

Jun 12, 2013

Jun 12, 2013 at 8:35 PM UTC

sarina

the runaway

On the way back to my rural house, I thought about goodbye and how you just left as a deer crossing the highway. I could do that now – I have a paycheck, I do not need my parents to sign for us to marry or be taken off of birth control so we can have babies. My feet no longer wobble when I climb into a train car. These rainy nights are like gingko supplements because now I can remember everything about you and I. Your too-thin-for-winter pajamas on the carpet, your nonchalant manner of breaking my heart. I knew then to be a detective: my mission to abort goodbyes just to forgive you for old hurts and whatever else I may find. Through my veins runs cranberry juice, red as blood frozen over from the winter of mine that you ruined. It is June and you are still sorry for what you did, it is June and now I am sorry, too. Sadness made my ribcage sprout into a ripened peach tree – cut them open, nothing’s inside. We are all runaways.

20

I heard you whispering through the empty door-frame Seeking sleep from your desired lover, unchanged and the same the twilight years of life, are they anything like the twilight zone? Perhaps the alzheimers leads to a quantum close and mirrors float like seperated identities, I let the spirit into me Sentient flow comes with a pill of Gingko biloba The oval Mandala SWEEPS me up! Back in the circle of the SANSKIRT gumption Carved like a pumpkin, that's sumthin if you're thumpin Loud Loud Loud enough.

0

Nov 5, 2012

Nov 5, 2012 at 12:24 AM UTC

tread

Zones of ?

I heard you whispering through the empty door-frame Seeking sleep from your desired lover, unchanged and the same the twilight years of life, are they anything like the twilight zone? Perhaps the alzheimers leads to a quantum close and mirrors float like seperated identities, I let the spirit into me Sentient flow comes with a pill of Gingko biloba The oval Mandala SWEEPS me up! Back in the circle of the SANSKIRT gumption Carved like a pumpkin, that's sumthin if you're thumpin Loud Loud Loud enough.

13

I spent my 20th birthday in a petrified forest It meant nothing and I sweat very much I wonder how it feels to be petrified, how it feels for Nature to memorialize you, Laid to rest until coal-covered hands unearth you Gingko and sassafras and yew feel the sun’s aged, dotted hands caress all over This is how it feels. A petroglyph carved from ancient basalt And my dad carrying our dog on his shoulders. 15.5 million years of layered rock and Worrying about the size of my legs next to yours. Ice age floods exposed crystalized bark and You wipe the **** off your shoe and we drive some more.

0

Dec 2, 2024

Dec 2, 2024 at 11:49 PM UTC

hannahhilliker

state gem

I spent my 20th birthday in a petrified forest It meant nothing and I sweat very much I wonder how it feels to be petrified, how it feels for Nature to memorialize you, Laid to rest until coal-covered hands unearth you Gingko and sassafras and yew feel the sun’s aged, dotted hands caress all over This is how it feels. A petroglyph carved from ancient basalt And my dad carrying our dog on his shoulders. 15.5 million years of layered rock and Worrying about the size of my legs next to yours. Ice age floods exposed crystalized bark and You wipe the **** off your shoe and we drive some more.

13

there is an old man standing at the pole on the train he is cackling to himself and tossing feet around it's at times like this that i wish i were invisible playing dead to the world living mountain hillsides growing gingko and pine my stones rubbed smooth by the murky water translucent with memories.

0

Jan 18, 2018

Jan 18, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC

lirau

retreat

there is an old man standing at the pole on the train he is cackling to himself and tossing feet around it's at times like this that i wish i were invisible playing dead to the world living mountain hillsides growing gingko and pine my stones rubbed smooth by the murky water translucent with memories.

12