"humerus" poems
i tried to overlook
but like seedlings, you germinated
roots around my phalanges (like a dandelion)
from where we last touched.
over time and frigid winter weather, the roots
spread. around my metacarpals, intertwined
between my ulna and radius, all the way up
to my humerus and scapula.
by the spring, flowers sprouted just above my
collarbones, embracing my mandible.
little wilted blue petals surrounding me in my bed
each sunrise, but by noon, new petals already have
attached themselves to the receptacle.
by summer, i pluck their petals for amusement. as
they drift away in the breeze i can't help but to
remember you. us. we. and another thing i haven't
determined is whether you have forgotten me
or not.
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 7:39 PM UTC
Initial day at uni.
Took a little stumble.
As down the road I rumbled.
World of study.
Well thought out.
Off my bike I tumbled.
Over the handlebars.
In front of the cars.
A not amusing somersault.
It really wasn’t funny.
My humerus, got broke
Not at all amusing,
Certainly no joke.
Not a funny bone to break.
University was no ball.
Off to uni.
Arm in cast.
In front of the others.
What a giggle.
Trainee nurse in pyjamas.
Battle of the one armed fly.
Impossibly undone!
By ladylivvi1
© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
Romantically speaking,
I am not very romantic at all.
My spine curves and
sprouts forth a
humerus that holds
to a radius and an ulna
with metacarpal bones
dangling
downward
reaching for something to
anchor themselves to.
I am not very romantic at all,
it's just that my bones have flourished
curling around you.
Apr 20, 2016
Apr 20, 2016 at 12:50 PM UTC
Aaaaah, ***** my side-ache
And ***** me inside
I left my mind back a couple of days ago,
I'm behind on the times
Football, Meetball, Youball, eyeball
Wordplay's for ******* and I'm oh so catty.
What's wrong with digestion?
And where's my humerus when I need it most?
I have little left to say to either you or I, but I'll keep talking so it looks like I'm halfway to a quarter of insanity.
I miss not touchés or is it touches?
Relationships, man.
What's the best of these and what's the worst of 'em?
Strap me to a bomb so my thoughts get exploded for all to see.
I never wanted to put you ahead of me,
and that's a lie.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 3:54 PM UTC
I saw old friend Bogart awhile ago
in pieces and fragments
of old, preserved bones
I’ve tried to put him back together
by assembling him, and I did
but there’s so many pieces missing.
His skull is gone, his hyoid and clavicle
his humerus and ulna on the right side of his arms
and even his phalanges.
He has no coccyx on his pelvis and
on his right leg, no tibia and fibula,
on his knee, there’s no patella
yet there’s some pieces of tarsals on his feet.
Incomplete and useless,eh?
Though old, he’s still beautiful,
a perfect masterpiece of the Heavens,
the strength of his bones measure eons
and will you believe me if I say
that because of him, my mom graduated?
He’s been responsible for the success
of students who became doctors and biologists
as old as his bones are,
were the knowledge imparted to the children
of many generations.
Bogart is amazing, a (non)living teacher
that tells me, that there’s beauty
and essence in fragments of something that
once was complete and that one who
will always remain alive in the lives of many
and now, in mine too.
Jul 13, 2013
Jul 13, 2013 at 8:14 AM UTC
sternum (n.)
a bone extending along the middle line of the ventral portion of the body consisting of a flat, narrow bone connected with the clavicles and the true ribs.
I remember taking an anatomy class in high school, we had to memorize the bones of the body - the skeletal system. Scapula, humerus, mandible all favorable to the tongue, but I never liked the word sternum, it sounds far too angry, nothing like the supple it actually is. Years later I would still find myself walking to work and naming them off. Bones on my mind. Tibia, ulna, femur, breastbone.
Breastbone rolls around my mouth, lulls my anxiety towards its twin like a boat in calm waters. I think of your breastbone as a platform to profess my fascination. I am surprisingly amazed every time I count the steady rhythm of your heart, it's sound conducted as though your breastbone is a soundboard. I feel the slight ridges of your ribs when my head lays in the valley of your chest. There's not a day that I wouldn't love to get lost in the formations of your bones, each crevice a new place to hide - lounging in the curve of your collar bone, plucking the muscles of your fingers like guitar strings, getting lost to the soft scent of skin, and memorizing the plush roundness of your ******* each sensation leaves me with a new obsession. I look for replicas in everyday life, the hunt almost as intoxicating as smoke from campfires, or plucking wishbones from hens.
Feb 9, 2014
Feb 9, 2014 at 5:30 PM UTC
I don't smile because I have bad teeth, people think I'm sad.
I'm not a sad person, what's sad is that I don't have a reason to smile.
I am not a gregarious person because I feel vulnerable that way, people think that I lack a sense of humour.
I can make certain people laugh, what's humerus is that the rest don't get that I am the joke.
I don't laugh because it is a weird sound, people think I'm serious.
I can be jovial, what's serious is that nothing is really that funny.
I usually keep to myself, because I'm scared to approach people, people think I'm scary.
I can warm up to a person after a while, what's scary is their judgement......
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 3:04 PM UTC
Staring at my cigarette,
Scolding it for not burning
Slower.
And, as if in synchronicity,
She speeds, spiraling, licking the fainted lines
Of the off-white cylinder
With a fiery tongue.
See me run and
Squeeze a little more.
Set on asphyxiation
And then hold me tighter;
your Humerus bending as my Little Ribs expand
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 6:52 PM UTC
The phalanges are connected
to the metacarpals,
the metacarpals are connected
to the ulna,
the ulna is connected
to the humerus…
and the heart
is connected
to pen and paper
in a way that defies
all logic
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 9:33 PM UTC
And now, I guess I'm glad that I never felt
The way your ulna and radius would press
against the discs in my spine as your humerus
held me to you, the way I would lean my skull
on your clavicle and rest my phalanges on your
scapula and be able to feel the life inside of your ribs,
the way your costal cartilage was never mine to hold
and the way mine always was too bruised to touch,
because then I'd be certain that the cartilage between
your bones would turn them into nothing but ropes,
tying me down to you as they wrapped around my
neck and choked me in my own illusions.
And I'm done playing hangman.
Because then, I'd be nothing but another skeleton
in my closet full of dreams and hopes.
And darling,
I won't do that to myself again.
Never again.
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
Hello, dear friends and family,
I write you on behalf of your own dis-functionality. Break away the molds of a less mortal man. Ne'er again will I be what I am. I am anachronistic I'm a flower. I expect sunshine I expect showers. I am lesser than an 8th grade child. Come with me Mr. Rogers, stay awhile.
Ulcers, explosions, colonoscopy, I'd like "things that come from the back side of me" for 500, Alex.
Reflex my mental perceptions and premarital sexuality. I'm Catholic, we're catholic; I think you're understanding me.
I used to write for you, but now I write for me. Pac Man ate my ***** yesterday, and a ghost I shall be.
Fan me the cool feels, fan me the sweet deals; I'd like to make money sometimes, but that's just the worldly me.
Let's be humerus, I'm flexing my skeletal muscles. Bone me twice, I'm flexible: tussle.
An antiperception of lesser mortal men, let us not take umbrage to the second tense of Portman's skin.
I see you, girl; I see you girl. I'm not interested, but that body speaks worlds.
Is that weird? I guess you can admire beauty without falling into lust. I suppose that's normal, save when staring at bust.
Let me anchor you; let me father. I'm not writing for my son, nor my daughter.
There's some serious necessities, there's some serious faults. I love you, and that's the honest truth, but what happens if we're lost? Five more words to go.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
I have gory portraits hanging on my walls, collecting grime
I have polaroids to record my cleansing efforts, scenes of crime
Limbs drape my abode like a ghastly ********** of antlers
Trophies encompass my home: glass-eyed raptors and the skins of panthers
Nonetheless, I sit upon a throne of men for they are always the greatest prey
I stalk their numbers through all moon cycles of the night and solar shifts of the day
I happily silence a man’s hubris to collect his humerus
I engage in a scrap to seize a scapula- a theft, I hope, didn’t leave its owner too furious
Hide in packs, in swarms, and in flocks you pretty beasts, I must implore
Face a fate that all creatures must surrender to
Chills of fear racing in the bones and the great hunter tearing down your door
Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 5:14 PM UTC
The deadline monsters
Kept pounding on the door of my consciousness
Their frantic, banging fists
Threaten to reduce me
to a paralytic heap
of nothing but flesh and bones
I can hear the horrible noises
of splintering wood
Fractured humerus
The unnerving thwack
of a body
As it flung itself against
my defenses.
And yet I sit here
Serene, unperturbed
A posture of sheer pretentiousness
Ignoring the violent growls
of the monsters
In my head.
With glazed eyes
And absent-minded numbness
I watch Neflix.
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 10:19 PM UTC
i relate in body parts,
because my words fall short of hearts.
i relate, in knowing we both have twelve pairs of ribs,
the same way you and i have the curve to our hips.
i relate, in knowing your ulna runs down my radius,
the same way my thumb runs down your humerus.
i relate, in knowing how our teeth align,
the same way you compliment my design.
so i nest my mandibula,
in the crevice of your scapula,
set my rhythm to the countdown of your vertebra.
i relate, in knowing a pair of lips doesn't make two,
not unless they meet as me and you.
Jan 6, 2025
Jan 6, 2025 at 11:26 AM UTC
When you knock your funny bone
it's not funny, which is funny
don't you think?
I'm trying not to cry
it's so early
even the worms
have yet to get up,
birds look at each other in surprise
but it's not even five,
what do they expect,
table service?
One more mind numbing
then Friday's coming
and I'm going
into the weekend
with a smile.
There is a serious side
usually the inside,
when on the outside is
just a crazy car crash ride
into a brick wall,
but
Kilroy
got there first.
Feb 16, 2022
Feb 16, 2022 at 11:50 PM UTC
She is perfect! Her smile was amazing as it could brighten anyone's day. Her personality got any crowd attention. Those humerus faces, that crazy laugh, seriously she is so goofy and full of life! From the day I met you I already knew that you are perfection…
Wait now depression takes a hold and doesn't let go. That full of sunshine girl is lost in a cloud that doesn't seem to past fast enough. I try to help by giving you time to yourself. Now it's out of control and taking over you.
What am I to do? Nothing…
How could I stop this? I can't…
That girl I saw looking back at me…
Oh mirror of lies! Why have you done this? I couldn't see the girl I first met anymore. Who I see looking back at me looks so sad and in so much pain.
Where did this happy girl go?
How can I get her back?
By accepting that Imperfect girl looking back in the mirror. To love every flaw, big or small. Seeing that gap but still smile. Feeling the pain from depression yet still jokes, do silly faces and act abnormal.
This girl is perfect… perfectly imperfect.
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 6:24 AM UTC
Single drop of poison
Slight pressure on the wrong nerve
A wrong word, an unintended glance.
A shove off a tall building
Taste of gun metal against the gustatory palate
Broken promises, scattered like dead petals.
A fever of 99
A cold of 10 sniffles per minute
Throat, a heated battle field.
Violent cataclysms of the confused mind
Storms raging in my humerus
The salt of your lies leaving my eyes.
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 2:21 AM UTC
Ceiling mirror falls,
Humerus breaks, laughter spreads—
Unexpected crash.
May 20, 2024
May 20, 2024 at 2:24 PM UTC