"lacing" poems
For my cousin, Chris Goldrick
Lacing my skates
after walking two miles
in girl-strictured delight
Mom's stories of Sonja Henie--
No, not ever
Lacing my skates
with snow-ball pompoms
felt skirt
and nylon tights
Cute little hat with matching scarf
My thighs and fingers
already freezing
icy burn
from miles on foot
to get there
the lake where--
I must get out
I must get OUT!
Knowing what
to expect from my body
the quick-twitch of muscle
Could always sense
specific--
gravity of water
at 22 degrees
Desiring to feel
the motion between ice and steel
Read speed's vibrations through my body
The brain registers relation
to weather's effect
Tell of velocity
possibility of fall
Feel the slash of the blades beneath me
Throw my weight sideways, sudden
to hear that furious hiss
An object in motion tending, dire
to stay in motion
Threatening to stay there
always
in its heights-- of speed
away--
from the crowds of skaters
swirling distant in the lights
Seeking instead
the farthest reaches of Porter Lake
speed and speed and more
to overcome
inertia
of what it is to become
undone
at the outer edges, of humanity
A force
centrifugal unto myself
Avoiding
Pregnant and slow
with years and babes....
The best
must be broken and tamed
of what it takes to stay free
catching the edges with every stride
catching my toe in the quick
180
spray of frost
to the sudden still
Listen to the frigid chill
and the heave of my breath
tumbling into evidence
Gliding
Once
Forever--
on, into darkness
of woods on frozen water
The wildness of it all
So infatuated with flight
so full of grace
I forgot Sonja
The moon rose
from her seat in the treetops
and applauded
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 3:54 PM UTC
Insecurity is wool blanket drenched in water
laying across my nose and mouth,
every breath i take in is a wicked reminder of everything i am not.
its sharp needle points prodding my pores
ripping apart the skin of my throat with every word i'm unable to speak.
Insecurity is facing a firing squad,
every bullet comes from the mouth, every tongue a trigger, every tooth ammunition
Your feet are nailed to the ground, an iron staple of your own making lacing through your toes.
The worst thing about it is that your hands are bulletproof shields,
and if you had the strength to raise your thousand pound arms,
you could use them to block your bruised up brain.
But you can't.
So you don't.
its being uncomfortable in your own skin, a bone shattering, helpless feeling that you
cannot change this.
no amount of compliments or beautiful words whispered in the darkness can fix it
insecurity is the building blocks of my personality,
I'm constantly tailoring everyone in my life to fit it, like a worn dress
I can't walk down the hallway, down the street, through a store
without the feeling of a thousand weighty words cutting into my skin
In every war my mind wages against my body
i stand there like marble, letting the bullets eat me alive.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
My back is laced with scars
Given to me as a parting gift,
As a symbol of the love-that-never-was
Some have already been fully absorbed
Just their tips sticking out,
Forming a grotesque picture
Others, still fresh, still being taken in
Just their tips are slightly embedded
Another one would hardly make a difference
Might wring a cry of pain but nothing much afterwards
-
The glint of the tear as it slides down,
silently,
heedlessly,
into the black abyss,
threatening, wanting,
desperation lacing it's movements,
-
There's a silent 'plop!' sound as it touches
The floor so far below.
So far, so far that no one can see it.
So deep, so deep that no one can hear it
She hardly notices the spare, the extra
There have been too many for her to care
For one more.
A dozen more land in her back,
Angered by her impassiveness
She swivels around because she's still savouring
The ones that are there
For a minute, time stops, the blades stop
The girl's heart, or where it should've been...
That empty little space, occupied by three long
Swords stuck in it's place
They pierce right through her body,
So different from those knives that decorate her back.
Their tips face your eyes
The sword entered her through her back
It would've been a tragedy if only her eyes...
Oh, if only her eyes were something more
Than just endless holes
( - deeper, darker, blacker
more despairing than
the black abyss under her
very feet
- )
Aug 6, 2012
Aug 6, 2012 at 8:00 AM UTC
You know when you get the whisper of a melody in your head,
Or just that murmur of a song,or poem that you just have to write,
That gut feeling you get that it could be something amazing,
That's exactly what I feel when am with you,
Euphoria at it's highest peak.
True this could just be a lust phrase
That will hit hard and leave me seeing stars
True our physical chemistry isn't in question
But lacing fingers in the dark,hot breaths on your neck
Your murmur's "I know its to early but I really really more than like you"say more its like a euphoria drug injection to my heart.
You are like this song in my head,I want to hear more of
The whole song,the whole melody
I want to figure out if this is a song with power
Or one that will fade into history without leaving a mark.
All I know is I want more of this.
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC
I saw her
I saw her smile
Focus out through the sparkle
Reflecting from her danglers
And the ones in the atmosphere.
Turquoise sequinned with beige
Crackers, all around her
Our first new year
Where she took me by
My hand, entangling fingers
Lacing, when she thought she'd
Lost me,skipping between
White walls and brown floors
Finding a way out
Through the maze.
Low hung ceiling lamps.
Dragging me back through my memory doors
Remains the same
White walls and brown floors
While I wait outside.
Inside you're having your chemo.
Crackers
Inside my heart
Slithering through my mouth
I see her in between
Those flinging and swinging
Prayer flags, I recollect
Hanging them in the backyard
Of our home, you
Bargained them out
A flea market, before
That year's Diwali
You had inside of you
A life that would bless us
In three months.
A tangerine Georgette Saree
And rhyming with it,
Rani colored bangles
Sneaking up on the roof.
Crackers
White walls, wooden floors
You lie quiet, unmoved.
A skyrocket ups in a distance
As I light you up in flames.
Crackers
You'd always come back
Focusing, defocusing
My memories' pitaara
Sparkling, dangling
Skipping and lacing
Through all those crackers
Lighting me up
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC
Diamonds are a girl's best friend
Right.
Cut like diamonds
Slit
Grind like diamonds
Smack
Take like diamonds
Rush
Driving in like a hammer
Your pick into my skull
Jaw split, Achilles rip
Fall to the ground
Then you are crowned
Diamonds are a girl's best friend.
My blood is racing.
Dancing hot and lacing
Drugs with love and then facing
What it means to be
A diamond.
Diamonds are a girl's best friend.
With each deed
I die
With each bite
I lie
With each breath
I fly.
Why are diamonds a girl's best friend?
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 3:42 AM UTC
My sassy gay friend
Is not an accessory
When you go rooting through the closet and find him
Lacing straight ties into chains
Do not think that he will complete your outfit
Just because a rainbow holds the hues that you were looking for
Haven’t you seen that bruises also bloom in shades of purple and blue
Fading into green and yellow
With red far too often escaping veins that are supposed to hold it in
Haven’t you seen what marks us
And brings our identity to the surface of our skin
When closet doors are slammed too often against our hands
My sassy gay friend
Is not a decoration
You do not get to wear him at your hip
To flaunt your acceptance
And claim symbiosis
As if he needs you to navigate the streets of heteronormativity
Cutting short his words when communication is the best thing we have
And when speaking fails us we resort to spending an afternoon
Sending smoke signals into the sky
Waiting for security in the focus that it takes just to
Breathe
My sassy gay friend
Is not a collectible
You do not get to gather us up into a complete set
To line us neatly in an array
Of rarities and charities
And alternative identities
Until you feel sufficiently well rounded
In your attempted diversity
My sassy gay friend
Is not an icon
A token character
Or comic relief
My sassy gay friend
Is not meant to be romanticized
Idolized
Or fetishized
He is human
I am human
You are human
And if we see each other as sparkles and rhinestones
We're all going to lose all the value
That can't be found on price tags
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 9:20 PM UTC
hand cranked
re-imagined 35mm slides
Rough Trade posters
on the wall
Pepsi and premade sandwiches
on the counter
aperture: wide open
he sees her often at the multiplex
there she flirts
from the third row; second seat
sheer blouse
hands in elliptical motion
pointing toward
silk chiffon shells
the invite in a tilt of her mouth
lip; gloss
eyes hidden from the light
a prayer before intermission
celluloid reliquary
reveals God's plans
lest her trifling with him
cause a miss in changeover
enraging his self-regarded audience
the walk back to his car
one long montage of her lacing up
May 24, 2023
May 24, 2023 at 10:02 AM UTC
I live where a man rubbing
White shoe cream on his leather loafers has ulcers
From malnutrition and constant cassava.
Where a man’s sister loves his Fossil watch
And avocados, but gives
The whole fruit to her hate child.
The road is walked in the morning by
Rwandans, the jerry cans on their heads wetting their chests
With water from the spigot, half an hour away.
Nike shoes are unstitched, laces
Washed white daily and
The drinking water is gone by seven p.m.
I live where black people go thirsty keeping
Their sneakers white; throats dry each morning
While lacing their shoes.
Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:03 PM UTC
Takes deep breath
Lacing my arms to create a nest on my desk
Tucking my face inside
Breathing slowly
Till each breath is half of the last.
Than sufficating under my own
Depression.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
You're vivid in my head
Yet
I long to feel you here instead
Tangible
Between my *******
Lacing your lips with a high
You'll unleash under my dress
Tongue in cheek
As we spar
For **********
Of each other's heart.
Aug 12, 2021
Aug 12, 2021 at 11:28 PM UTC
i am a woman with pain built in.
lighting a candle each night & kneeling before Someone &
waiting &
waiting &
waiting.
removing a bloodied bandage & assessing the damage &
cleaning the wound &
cleaning the wound &
cleaning the wound.
washing down lamictal with stale chai tea &
lacing up my shoes &
lacing up my shoes &
lacing up my shoes.
warming unseasoned lentil soup & crying into the bowl––
i am a woman with pain built in,
ripping myself apart &
stitching the remnants back together
again &
again &
again.
Nov 16, 2022
Nov 16, 2022 at 8:34 PM UTC
Capped at the knees again,
Just another year flying with its scythe,
Cut back down with my feet rooting in cold soil,
Continue the rebuild for lifes reap,
Waiting for the clasp of hopeless farmers hand,
I know why with all the analytical purpose,
To serve life chain propaganda,
Evolutionary biome's scandal,
Breaking free from the loop you have set on full speed,
Watching the track play out,
Another record hollowed out,
High on the repetitive sound,
Loud it rings around space,
Lacing milky ways courted silence,
Rays transfer and escalate along empty darkness,
Light reflected gas,
Champagne bubbled star sky,
Here I lie severed before decay curls,
Wrapping a broken brain
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
The cows graze in their pasture
Subservient to their master
Who doesn’t move faster
To help avoid disaster
So the cows are on their own
To deal with snow
Those all alone
Completely froze
Yet those who know
To use the warm glow
Of company that showed
Survive temperature lows
The cows used to solitary grazing
Now begin embracing
To fight cold air they’re facing
That is life erasing
While frost is lacing
The grass once worth tasting
The winter refuses to yield
As snow builds in the fields
The cows’ cohesion is revealed
As they protect their veal
And forget to steal
To connect and heal
During this ordeal
In times of inclement weather
The cows huddle together
Like someone pulled a lever
That won’t stay locked forever
So eventually ties are severed
As summer comes
The dumber numb
Thinking they won
Soaking up sun
Knowing winter is done
They divide into ones
A flow line
Of the bovine
Slow grind
Shows flies
Grow wise
With no size
They devise
To go for eyes
Cows go blind
In their mind
And cannot find
Their herd in time
Pretty soon the irritating fleas
Give them mad cow disease
As they don’t look to please
But put the good on their knees
While they’re hiding in trees
And biting with absolute ease
Seeing the absence of immunities
From their lack of community
The lost independent
Weather defendants
Become repentant
When they hear encroaching
Thunder clouds approaching
The cows become hectic
From a storm electric
Their formation eclectic
So they feel unprotected
But a fence was erected
So they can’t join the dejected
And this lonely life they elected
Is sadly reflected
The lasso angler
Hassling wranglers
Unmasked as stranglers
Bring the herd together
As they pull a lever
That’ll stay locked forever
As the cows’ heads are severed
And the horns in their head
Stick around once they’re dead
As we eat what they were fed
While they made their own bed
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
Our hands together
Tangled finger find their place
lacing like zippers
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 9:49 AM UTC
im done learning a language rooted in vanity
like I need to take a selfie for my latest avi to go along with that tweet
and we're up in arms fighting, but its on the hush hush in our subtweets
thinking these anons that ask questions to boost my self security
telling friends, give me just an instant to update my insta
yeah, we're full of wit
spitting captions to gain cheap chuckles
lacing 140 characters together to make a point
less, we're spending time thinking of a cheap rhyme
while in the meantime our headlines are suffering from the lack of attention
because if one more ******* person tells me they're gaining fame
online
with meaningless angles, and pop culture retweeted
im going to lose my ******* mind
this **** is such a waste of time
this shrine made up of the kind of things you call mine
and we're washing out the brilliant minds
that are taking the time
to tell you something worthwhile
we're using a shovel as a ***
and plowing this tool into the ground
when artists all around are trying to dig through the ********
just to show you
that somethings are actually worth noticing
Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 4:01 PM UTC
i. picture this, just for a second. instead of waving from a mile away, we walk up the gently sloping hill together, side by side. the sky sheds its bruises above us. we could hold hands, if you wanted. what do you see in the morning clouds? tell me what it felt like, to swallow a star.
ii. i think of you all the time. i’m getting used to the weird volcanic eruptions in my chest when i see you leaning against the front gates at school or lacing up your shoes or when you tell me how much you hate durian, or whatever. you’ve got a habit of inclining your head slightly when you say “all right” or “okay.” i’ve noticed all kinds of things. i wish i didn’t.
iii. but tell me more about yourself. what’s your favorite color? do you get along with your sister? are you content here, with me, lying on a vast expanse of green on a dying planet, or do you still dream of colonizing a different soil? where do you go, when you get tired of running?
iv. here. give me your palms. look—your lifeline, strong and sturdy and sure. i’d like to trace your veins with sharpie someday (or perhaps even with my own hands, if you would let me). when you cross the finish line next week, maybe you’ll throw your arms up, the universal victory gesture, and maybe you’ll think of me the same way i think of you. maybe. just maybe.
v. so let’s ditch the world tomorrow and get coffee together after school. let’s tell jokes and forget everything else exists, and no, you don’t have to worry about the bill.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 9:01 PM UTC
Look in the keyhole
see into infinity
climb through
back where I started
turn around
look in the keyhole
see into infinity
climb through
back where I started
turn around
realize the door is standing in the middle of infinity
I put it there on some drunken night
thinking I was clever in my devising
never realizing I would trick myself with it too
kick the door down
and turn it into a flying carpet
a person can travel forever here
I see others at their own doors
seems my little game wasn't original after all
that's ok
I see others on their carpets
and wave hello
I see rockets and planes and balloons
There is a buddha hovering over a planet there
at peace, in zenful meditation
she is beautiful.
what wonders to discover
what glorious souls to meet
we are all family
we all know each others names and faces
before our first meetings and introductions
Saw a friend knock down her door
and fly away with wings, rapture on her face
I wept for joy to see her go
knowing our foreheads will touch again when it is time
and the stories she will tell!
Oh the stories!
All of these tales from divine lips
weaving into the fabric of the infinite
weaving us together as a whole
We Are - I Am
We Are One
Each experience becomes a story
Each life is an epic journey
retold with the tongues of cosmic bards
the words resonate in swirls and patterns
making sacred geometry with the stars
I see, I see, I see
there is so much to take in
and so much to give back
dancing with the bear and the wolf
the eagle and the raven cry out above our heads
reminding me of the regal heritage which death wears on it's crown.
Supping at a feast of the gods, Inanna on one side, Ganesh leaning on my shoulder
they laugh and cry and tell cheesy jokes like the rest of us
when we aren't looking
we are in the infinite, there is no rush
for there is no time - it's all Now
May 12, 2010
May 12, 2010 at 8:14 PM UTC
Silken ribbons lacing dainty ankles
toes snug within slippers in first position
she nods her head for the music to begin
breathing a deep breath, ready to audition
Vibrations dance through out the floor
her frail body flows with such grace
with an arabesque she looks into the crowd
hides her nervousness, with the smile upon her face
As pirouettes sync with the allegro tempo
into a grande jete she soars through the air
though her leg gives, she falls with broken pins
an elegant bun lands as unraveled hair
Breathing deep breaths, her heart beat races
while seeping into the floor she rests her head on
are the tears of failure forming a lake
around the broken winged beauty, a fallen swan
Her shattered dreams unlace defeated slippers
for she has cried out all of her ambition
to be a prima ballerina, now never to curtsy
with ankles chained in fear locked in first position.
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 1:33 PM UTC
His words said permanent, his words said stay.
His words described forever, lacing their way through my head and heart.
But in the end he was too free-spirited and transient--
he was just another vagabond seeking shelter in the crevice of my smile.
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
Every year now, I note the differences:
the changes in the stones,
the retreating car park and what
is new to the waves.
It is slight. You try to hide it by
presenting the same places and
lacing them with memories that
all correspond.
But you are changing.
You take new beatings, and I can't
help but wonder if we are alike.
The process of erosion has caught
us both, and year by year,
cliff by cliff, it's wearing us down.
It was always supposed to happen,
but what if you change too much?
What will happen when you change
irreparably, irreconcilably?
Even now you are only an
imaginary home, so defamiliarized
from the dream I demand.
I know you promised me nothing.
But I had a deal you didn't know about
and you've ceased to make me happy.
I can't help but be a little angry
with you for letting the
storm break you down.
But is it really you, or is it me
who has done the changing?
Is it not my eyes and my erosion?
Is it not the attrition and abrasion
and the long shore drift
that has welled up inside my own soul?
Is it you or I?
How can we know?
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC
scrabble tile - no vowels
exact change only
spider solitaire - tetris
distraction
furtive glances
quiet moments alone
lie to friends
weep with no tears
lonliness
gritted teeth with cavities
must mend myself
procrastinate
cars go fast
constant peripheral hearing
night sweats
vivid imagery, pretty colours, sublimity
consideration, politeness, restraint
roman numerals, 24 hour clock
crumpled notes, lacing on a glass
temporary sensations
four walls, three sides, two's company
shocking weather we are having isn't it?
Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 3:24 PM UTC
Her brown eyes are like polished
mahogany, their rich hue deepened with a subtle glimmer, lacing beauty into every flower bed they touch. They hold an irresistible warmth and clarity, reflecting a depth that's both inviting and enigmatic—like the first sip of coffee on a quiet morning, awakening something deep inside. They shimmer, like stardust, each glance revealing a gentle spark, as if they're harboring a soft, unspoken magic just for you.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 12:45 PM UTC
My hand, a little raised, might press a star--
Where I may look, the frosted peaks are spun,
So shaped before Olympus was begun,
Spanned each to each, now, by a silver bar.
Thus to face Beauty have I traveled far,
But now, as if around my heart were run
Hard, lacing fingers, so I stand undone.
Of all my tears, the bitterest these are.
Who humbly followed Beauty all her ways,
Begging the brambles that her robe had passed,
Crying her name in corridors of stone,
That day shall know his weariedest of days--
When Beauty, still and suppliant at last,
Does not suffice him, once they are alone.
1.9k