"limonade" poems
My birthday is today
Seventeen years since another Sunday at 9 AM
On top of a mountain called Ozark
In a land that reminded me of Harry Potter
Called Pettigrew like Peter
It's forests elicited sprites and daddy long legs
Made of me a changeling then spit me back out
I learned what real ice tea was at the age of three
It was my birthday
Doing Pirouettes on my aunts Patio
Again, under Arkansas stars
With faery lights leading my way
I ascended to the brush behind the house
Got lost in the greens and browns of paradise's supply
Returned with flesh painted the colour of love
In an apartment overlooking crab apple trees
Fresh Canadian foliage fostering a well concealed creek
On a 90 degree angle over a dark chocolate cake
My ninth birthday
I drank pickle juice because Vinny said it was limonade
I wore dresses that year
And coveted baskets filled to brim with blossoms
Baked the crab apples into a pie
But preferred mama's banana cream
I wore bandages on my arms
and grass stains on my knees
My tears washed away like Crayola markers
And my biggest inner questions had to do
With what was for breakfast
And the lifespan of a temporary tattoos
14 came with a big black bow
Done up gaudily in greys with a sad little smile
Three years marked with pink splotches and lines
A subject to hormones and arsenic tones
My birthday
A celebration of decay
And mama still sang, and baked, and kissed my face
And didn't wake when I placed cotton ***** in her ears
Because I was a happy girl
Today is my birthday
And mama exclaims
"No more babies! All four of you are so grown!"
But the mirror still illustrates an odd little show
With a baby face
A girls chest
And a womans hips
An ordinary freak all stitched up
Awkward and too much of everything
But not enough all the same
And inside I know
Is a sea of paradoxical Samanthas
Some stubborn and loud
Some shy and reserved
All with changes to make
Books to read
And places to go
And only few that are quite wanting yet
To be 17
Sep 15, 2013
Sep 15, 2013 at 8:54 AM UTC
I
On n'est pas sérieux, quand on a dix-sept ans.
- Un beau soir, foin des bocks et de la limonade,
Des cafés tapageurs aux lustres éclatants !
- On va sous les tilleuls verts de la promenade.
Les tilleuls sentent bon dans les bons soirs de juin !
L'air est parfois si doux, qu'on ferme la paupière ;
Le vent chargé de bruits - la ville n'est pas **** -
A des parfums de vigne et des parfums de bière...
II
- Voilà qu'on aperçoit un tout petit chiffon
D'azur sombre, encadré d'une petite branche,
Piqué d'une mauvaise étoile, qui se fond
Avec de doux frissons, petite et toute blanche...
Nuit de juin ! Dix-sept ans ! - On se laisse griser.
La sève est du champagne et vous monte à la tête...
On divague ; on se sent aux lèvres un baiser
Qui palpite là, comme une petite bête...
III
Le coeur fou robinsonne à travers les romans,
- Lorsque, dans la clarté d'un pâle réverbère,
Passe une demoiselle aux petits airs charmants,
Sous l'ombre du faux col effrayant de son père...
Et, comme elle vous trouve immensément naïf,
Tout en faisant trotter ses petites bottines,
Elle se tourne, alerte et d'un mouvement vif...
- Sur vos lèvres alors meurent les cavatines...
IV
Vous êtes amoureux. Loué jusqu'au mois d'août.
Vous êtes amoureux. - Vos sonnets La font rire.
Tous vos amis s'en vont, vous êtes mauvais goût.
- Puis l'adorée, un soir, a daigné vous écrire !...
- Ce soir-là..., - vous rentrez aux cafés éclatants,
Vous demandez des bocks ou de la limonade...
- On n'est pas sérieux, quand on a dix-sept ans
Et qu'on a des tilleuls verts sur la promenade.
1.2k
I've seen limonade spilt down the sewer
and down the drain. (life limonade)
These limons have long past rotten.
Stale, and forgotten; limonade spillway.
I wouldn't be satisfied with the quality of that limonade.
(not at all)
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC
sometimes i get this strange feeling when something bad is about to happen and lately
no matter what i do or what i think about it doesnt go away.
how can i explain to you that i want you to be here forever?
i've never been scared of anything but losing you.
there will never be enough words in this world to tell you how much you mean to me and how i would have never been me if it wasnt for you.
you taught me to be kind and respectful to everyone even if i think they don't deserve it.
you're the only person who's ever made me feel like being vulnerable and fragile is okay. even in this ****** ****** up world.
there are days when i love the fact that i'm never able to forget because that way i will always remember the moments i have spent with you.
to be honest, i don't want to imagine a world without you in it; without the two of us making fun about literally everything and without your hot limonade to make me feel better whenever im sick.
i remember that day of april where it was pouring so hard and we were all wet and tired and we were almost home and i couldn't stop laughing. because even tho i couldn't feel my feet and i was freezing to death, i was the happiest kid in the world because i had you by my side. throughout my life i've known that no matter what kind of storm im in, everything will be alright as long as i have you.
you've always been the greatest role model i could've asked for and i will always think of you like the only person in the world that is worth everything.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC