"monumented" poems
My scars
They weren’t planned
Just like life’s scars
They hurt sometimes
I caused them
That’s why they are my scars
I don’t wear them with pride
But they are mine
Caused by me
Made by me
No one else
This scars weren’t anyone’s to blame
These are my scars
My pain actualized
My tear monumented
While the world will scar my heart
Without my choice
These scars, my scars
With every line
With every bump and curve
Are my scars
You may not see the rationale
I don’t even know the rationale
But I know the scars
I see the scars
What caused the scars
They are and nothing else but
My scars
Sep 1, 2022
Sep 1, 2022 at 6:06 PM UTC
He says I smell like rain,
so to complement me he smells of
freshly washed stone.
Dust rising in the air,
sometime in April,
when my showers have cleansed him.
We are not the same person.
He is grounded,
I live in the air
'til I come crashing to the ground,
where he waits for me.
They say water will break earth.
He's broken me instead,
in the most beautiful way,
and together we will create mountains;
Unscalable and true,
Deep and ancient and wise.
And when we are dead
we will stand monumented.
Our journey through life,
when he was rough
and I was a storm
of fury and form,
and you will remember us.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 4:31 PM UTC
I have no answers for you. Just
a suggestion. Look
at the embryonic movement
of people dividing in New York
and suddenly stop thinking.
Then look at cattle grazing in Iowa
black as sheets of obsidian
monumented against
deepening chalcedony, the azure of
openness, and suddenly
begin again
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 5:37 PM UTC