"pawprints" poems
I can name you
The exact date
On which he was shot:
June 28, 1914.
Who killed him?
Gavrilo Princip,
Member of the Bosnian Nationalist
Movement: The Black
Hand.
Suddenly this montage
Of bullet chambers
And dead wars
Shift -
Hands. You. Me.
Your fingers,
Which I long to hold.
Your voice,
Which I long to hear.
Which I have forgotten -
Sometimes it is hard
To trace the annals
Of history. Our
****** pawprints
Make the trail of
Arms and hatred
Harder to keep straight
Than sin and so
We walk backwards.
****** trail of footsteps
Perhaps stepped
Into
By a meandering
Mao, or ******
Or Tojo. Muddied further
By the presence
Of an Alger
Hiss -
Your voice
Is a whisper,
It sings to me in
Secrets - I do not
Know you but I
Am in love,
You are beautiful and
I don't know why
But there's a
War. In my heart.
A war of attrition. Subtraction
Of causes. And the Archduke,
Well the Archduke
Is glad to see you.
Hear his dates blur
Into yours -
History tests,
And love notes
Crumpled away folded
And stored
In the same junk
Folder.
I imagine his hands
To have folded
Quite slowly,
Searching for something
To latch onto.
Like mine.
Empty palms flickering
Amidst a trail of
Blood and dust -
Oh, and yeah
The history lessons
Of course.
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
*In The Freshly Powdered Snow Lay,
Coyote Pawprints,
Set In A Perfect Line,
Leading Right To My Very Own,
Bedroom Window*
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
She fell asleep thinking not of her
Boyfriend, but of the moon
Like the tides, her
Passions were tied to its
Waxing and waning
At its fullest she could
See around corners
Identify people not just by
Sight, but by scent
She watched, enraptured, as her
Fingernails grew and sharpened before
Her eyes
And for maybe
Not quite the first time
She felt alive
The strange symptoms
Of her youth
The pawprints in the
Yard, the lust for Jack
London, the undercooked meat
Calling the moon by her
Boyfriend's name
When her phone was ringing
With his number lighting up the screen
Calling her boyfriend
The moon
And thinking about sinking her
Teeth into him
The people who loved her
Pushing for a lock up
Questioning her sanity
The people who loved her
Trying to understand
It was all so
Unsettling, it was all so
Mindbending how much louder the
Wild called to her
And how it knew her name
Without any introductions
And naturally her instincts
Took over
And supernaturally her instincts
Wanted flesh
Finally it was just two
Wolf hearts
Beating in the
Dark, all those wild
Thoughts racing across
America and destiny was
Manifesting itself faster
Than they could chase after it
She had turned him and
There was no going back
Just forward into that
Rabid
Unnatural
Unknown
Forward into that
Toothy grin
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 10:54 PM UTC
East-coasters, roller coasters
Churning up my innards
I am going home again!
Over mountains
Diving straight into the ocean
Fifteen hours
Driving
But (home is where the heart is)
(home is anywhere but here)
Home drowns hate in cool water
Swelling waves pull sadness down
Salt and sand scrub the scared off my skin
I will break the surface
Sacred
Free and clean again
East-coasters, brave little toasters
Cinnamon and sugar in the mornings
In my mind pictures are forming
Of pawprints in wet sand
And your hand in my hand
My seashell bra is coming off
The surf breaks over smooth rocks
Time swims on and on
Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
Your Toxin
Always
Brings Sorrows
Of The Undead
That Always
Keep Tears
Crying
For The Dead
Toxins
Perfume
Your Blood
With Staleness
Of The Night
Your Pawprints
Never Could
Be The Same
Without
Your Toxin
You Feel Pain
You Hold It
Like A
Child
That You Cannot
Hold On
Forever
~Paris Styron~
Toxic
Black Roses
Grind
Between
Your Furry
Toes
With Despair
With Grief
That Always
Bleeds
In My Heart
That Cannot
Grow Apart
I Am A
Leech
That Cannot
Go Away
Because
I Carry
Your Diseases
Away
Infected
Pawprint
Message Of
The Day
Of The Night
~Paris Styron~
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Sing me a song of
This romance gone wrong
It sounds so intriguing, I can
Barely contain myself
I'm sorry, do I come off brash?
I feel distracted
Can I bite your skin?
Find the troubled,
Insecure soul deep within?
Why are you so tense?
Your skin's like an apple's
You both taste like rain
Strange...
Don't feel like playing games?
Sorry, this is coming off as nasty
Don't worry, I'm done
Just pass me by
There's a shard in your eye
As big as the touch that used to make me cry
Could I still be a stranger,
Though you know every turn?
Could confidently travel
Every bump, every curve
You love this land
Try to pick out parts that enthrall you the most
But by now,
You've said they're all your favorites
And I like that
If I'm an animal then you are my instinct
My predetermined pawprints and my next neck to breathe down
The limbs that help me prowl around
The air that dances with my tail,
Applying force where I cut the air
Forgive me I'm not good at this
Do I flaunt my step or **** my hip?
Fake being ansy or bite my lip?
Or we ***** this odd rhythm and skip right to the drop
I don't know what you're doing but I won't tell you to stop.
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 9:04 PM UTC
In The Snow
With Pawprints
Curled Up
In A Ball Of
Shame
Of Being The Strong
Of Being The Only
One Who
Shows My Difference
My Potential
Myself
I Do Not
Regret It
~Paris Styron~
I Hate
But I
Put A Steak
On The Table
With
Writing I
Turn Anger
Into Sympathy
I Turn
Cruelty
Into Kindness
I Turn Dead
Emotions Alive Again
~Paris Styron~
Pain On Paper
Is Like Reading
And Writing
Someone's Curse
They Had
In Their
Heart
~Paris Styron~
We All
Have Curse
Freedom
Is The
Gateway To Hell
According To The
Curse
~Paris Styron~
A Stable Curse
Stabilizes
Restrains
Chains
That Write
In Each Others
Names
That Where
Freedom Is
Chained
Therefore
Life
Is No Longer
Worth Living
A Voice
Of The Devil
Lingers
In Our Head
Not Our Heart
~Paris Styron~
Creativity
Is Reality
Is Our Soul
Of Our Creation
That Is
Written In Us
Somehow, Some
Way
That Makes Us
"Different"
We Are The Perfect
Of The Imperfection
~Paris Styron~
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
spilled ink and bottle hovering over the carpet.
a black cat laying lazily on the desk
tail swishing in the sunlight
black pawprints on the scrolls of my Charms homework
and a chewed up quill on the chair
that smells like gum
“homorphus”
the ink and bottle both fall to the carpet
my roommate is now laying on my desk, half asleep,
her tail slowly disappearing into nothing
her hands and bare feet covered in black ink
bits of feather in her grinning mouth
and a small *** of pink gum
in her hair
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 11:35 AM UTC
He ran until he could no more,
Insipid pawprints, on all fours.
He was instantly taken aback,
Thinking they'd attack!
But fooled by him,
His reflectin oh, so grim!
He pranced through the night,
Out of his own hidden fright.
Yet it wasn't until,
He solemnly stood still.
But there had not been a sound,
As he foolishly turned back around.
If he only knew he was not the same,
Would he experiance no shame.
But he walked unwillingly amongst the night,
With not a sound heard, not a sole in sight.
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 4:58 PM UTC
Traces of pawprints align and accumulate amongst the snow
The dusk casts the dawn away and tended their corpse
A vicious sound emanating, rusing the serenity of the twilight
"Papa, will you be home tonight?"
"Will you be carrying the candles again?"
"Will you stay with us tonight?"
Perpending echoes of the penumbra when the moon,
obscures, the darkened ceiling.
Slits of dim candlelight seep past the surface, a ****** demise
Crimson seeping, bubbled wine, creasing the remnants of the promise
My dearest, sweetest, purest child,
Amongst the veils of fireflies, the canids prowl through the streets
A deceitful parade amongst the illusion exposed,
The peaceful tracts are no more - I was struck.
The canids howl a sonorous melody, riveting, disconcerting harmonies
On the brink of the dying night, in a universe we brought so forth
The lingering of the slivers of silver shining,
the paradox of incongruent paths intertwining,
For each flame ceases in a communal suicide, the wolves stalk the solemn night.
The philosophy that was taught for generations and beyond,
It existed no more.
Beyond the blanket of hope and comfort, the warm amber rises
Stroking the pack, exuviating their hollow molt.
I was stranded here, on the island of scarlet
Roses floundering, thousands of rotten corpses
Fragrant luscious decadence, like candy to efflorescence
Floundering petals in hues of auburn and gold
Diluting to pallid gore.
"I will be home tonight"
"Smiling amongst the candlelight"
"For your dearest smile I recollected..."
"... and bled out once more"
Dec 25, 2017
Dec 25, 2017 at 7:07 AM UTC
In the winter
We follow pawprints
Through the forest,
through the thick of things.
You; convinced we are onto something.
We pass a flask with our
Heavy mittened hands and
Just between You and me; i
Don’t think it was the dogman. i don’t
Think
We will ever find anything out here.
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 2:31 PM UTC
Tears Falling
With Blood
And My Tail
Just These
Nails These Claws
They
Have A Past
Written On Them
In Stone
Scarched Onto
The Present
These Nails
Walk
Walk So Much
Into The PawPrints
I Make
Thus Leading Into
The Future Which
Are Blank Snow
Covered Waiting
For Me To
Believe Try
To Take
A Chance
In Life
~Paris Styron~
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 9:49 PM UTC
Your
Pawprints
Never
Leave
My Tears
Even
If In
Ice
In
Dry Ice
Your
Tears
Unfreeze
My
Sorrows
And
You Made
Me
Have
A Purpose
To Not
To Die
In My Eyes
8 Pawprints
2 Said
"Hi"
2 Said
"How Are You"
2 Said I'm Fine
2 Said I'm Dying Inside
~Paris Styron~
Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 7:23 AM UTC
If You
Listen
To Your
Heart
You Will
Follow
Your Pawprints
That Outlines
The Blood
You Leave
Behind;
Memories
Life
Isn't Just
A Game
It Is
A Creation
Beyond
Many Things
Beyond
The Unknown
Follow Your
Heart
Not In
The Eyes,
But
The Thoughts
That Come
With
An Individual
Everyone
Is A Star
That Shines
So Bright
In The Sky
To Light
Up
The Lonely
Sky
People Say
That This
World
Will End
One Day
For
Nothing
Lasts
Our Goal
Is To
Create
Explore
Survive
Love And
Enjoy
Our Lives
What More
Could We
Want
Follow
Your Dreams
For If
You Stop
Dreaming
You Have
Stopped
Living
Like Walking
Gently
In The Snow
The Feet
Carry
Your
Soul
In The Mist
Of The
Unknown
If You
Stop
You Have
Given Up
On Life
And Your
Dreams
~Paris Styron~
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
Your Pawprints
Numbed
In The
Deep Dark
Lonely
Snow
Blood
Dripped
Down Your
Face
Into
Your Deep
Dark
Pawprint
Outline
In The Snow
And Turned
Me Into Blood
Of Beautiful
Sorrows
That Always
Leaves
My Tears
Hanged
~Paris Styron~
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 7:12 AM UTC
Oh no not again
I knew it would happen
The unmistakable carpet stain
An innocent look of "it wasn't me"
As he bounds off upstairs
To spread more mud
"That's it you flee!"
Next time I'll be ready
With sponge in hand
And towel at the door
But you'll wriggle and squirm
"Just give me your paw!"
Swift and slippery
You think this is a game
Well i'm not impressed
On hands and knees with a rub and a scrub
Giving my patience the ultimate test!
Mar 24, 2023
Mar 24, 2023 at 6:37 AM UTC
Your
Pawprints
Never
Leave
My Tears
Even
If In
Ice
In
Dry Ice
Your
Tears
Unfreeze
My
Sorrows
And
You Made
Me
Have
A Purpose
To Not
To Die
In My Eyes
8 Pawprints
2 Loved
2 Cared
2 Sought
2 Fought
2 Said Goodbye
~Paris Styron~
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 7:41 AM UTC
Your Eyes
Make My
Heart
Perfume
The Black
Roses
With
Heartful
Scented
Of Delight
Of Joy
Peaceful
Eyes
Listen
To The
Words
On The Ground
You Keep
Walking
My Pawprints
With Each
Step
Is A Step
Closer
To My
Heart
To My
Gold
Pawprints
Of Love
Only
One Have
Crossed
The Desolated
Snow
Of My
Sorrowful
Home
Of From
The Crave
Of Shame
"You Were
And Are
My Outline
Of My
Life
You Make
My Graves
Leave My
Sight
You Make
My Heart
Howl
In The
Night
With Pride
That I
Never Had
Until
Your Eyes
Laid
On Me
And Your
Heart
~Paris Styron~
The
Desolated
Tears
Perfumed
My Eyes
When
I Laid
Upon
Your Soulful
Eyes
Your
Tears
Followed
My Heart's
Pain
As
Did My
Tears
Hang
Yours
In The
Tomb
Of Sorrows
You Wish
To Wash
Away
The Scars
You
Show
To Me
Are
Stars
That Align
Our
Hearts
In The
Desolated
Lonely
Sky
We Were
Both
Dying Inside
~Paris Styron~
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
Truth Be
Told
By A Man
Of Sorrows
Told By
Depression
Told By
Scars
Pawprints
In Blood
On Walls
Filled
With Self
Hate
With Regret
Of Pain
Numbed
Pain
Perfumed
My Past
With
The Undead
Saying
Embrace
My ******
Claws
You Can
And You
Will
~Paris Styron~
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 5:47 AM UTC
I Always
Weep
In The Shadows
In The Night
Where Sorrows
Light My Moon
In The Sky
That Is Why
My Pawprints
Leave Prints
On The Moon
In Tears
Speechless
Where Our
Tears Align
With The Stars
Of Sadness
That Always
Gives Our
Hearts
Away The
Night Of
Tears
Of What
We Cannot
Stay Away
~Paris Styron~
Peaceful Moon
Tears Flow Down
The Wolf's
Eye
You Were There
When I Needed
You;
Your Wax And
Wan Change
The Vary
Night's
Prizes
Of How We Feel
We Are All
Souls
~Paris Styron~
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
1.
pawprints in the snow
like a monochrome painting
white and white and white
2.
the freezing woods sleep
under a blanket of frost
nothing to be seen
3.
the chimney puffs smoke
children run and laugh and play
eyes and smiles bright
4.
cold and bare, they stand
trees and grass and plants and sky
waiting for the spring.
1.
as frost gives way to
dew, as flowers begin to bloom,
the world awakens
2.
the seedlings grow, the
trees proudly show their colors
every shade of green
3.
the rain falls down, the
children frown, yet to learn of
mud and mess and play
4.
time ticks by, good things
begin, temperature creeps up
school’s out, it’s summer!
1.
the sun is always
there, a reminder of the
heat and life and light
2.
the birds fly high, their
eggs hatch and grow and learn
sweet songs fill the air
3.
running and jumping
off to camp they go
kids enjoy their fun
4.
playtime ends and so
begins a race to get the best
supplies for fall.
1.
leaves turn brown and float
gently to the ground, a fire
of red and orange
2.
holidays go by
memories and scares and thanks
one for every month
3.
homework piles up
and yet the children find time
to romp and explore
4.
animals prepare
stocking food and finding homes
ready for winter.
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
Your Pawprints
Always
Infeceted,
Frozen,
In Pain
With Time
Never Could
Fine
The One
Like You
The Star I
Could Never
See
Again
In The Hail,
Of The Snow,
Your Pawprints
Always
Leave
A Trace
Of Pain
That I
Always
Unfold
With Care
That Horrify
Others
In Misbelief
Of The
Harash Truth
That Always
Leads To
Isolation
Because Some
Wolves
Don't Understand
That Which
Others
Would Reject
Would Savage
For Any Purpose
To Only Help
Themselves
I Look Into
Your Pain
In Your Pain
In Your Eyes
It Freezes
My Soul
And My Heart,
My Tears
Always
Washes
Away Your
That Always
Makes Us
Closer
Love Until
The End
~Paris Styron~
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC
Dawn breaks on the quiet countryside.
The nightlife ghosts shuffle away to their daytime hideaways.
The strand of oak, bough of pine,
crevice of cypress.
The final inhalation of night.
The early bird janitorial crew wakes and makes sounds
to each other as the sun spreads across
the quivering Bahia yard. It drinks up the dewdrops
and straightens the fenceposts with kindness as it finds error.
The sun finds me, too, naked again, on the porch
and seeks to stretch my skin taught against my frame.
I scrape a toe callous across the brick of the porch step.
It is Wednesday the nineteenth.
It is 6:27am and I am grateful to be here.
As the morning mist unravels in the exhalation
and the crows set to work aerating the soil,
my attention drifts to the breeze and how I can nearly taste October on it. A red-tailed hawk observes this scene as well,
unbothered by the fettering mockingbird,
patiently waiting for the over zealous rabbit
or the confused field mouse to make itself apparent.
The girl in my bed routinely suggests coitus
on mornings such as these, with crispy autumn leaves drifting down outside the window. Which begs to be painted, white chips peeling in the dry fall air, but she says leave it --
she likes to pick them out of the flowerbed
after we ram the bedframe against the interior.
She likes to keep them.
Instead, this morning she’ll settle for bacon and eggs without much complaint. Although she will leer at me murderously
from behind her mustachioed cup of creamed coffee. She won’t tolerate my advances afterward, either --
insisting on her lateness, or mine,
or the cat pawprints
on the hood of her car.
She’ll hum through my comments
about the sunlight, the dew, my personification of the hawk.
She looks over the top of her phone when I mention ghosts, but happily returns to scrolling when she realizes I’m full of it.
And so, then, off we go.
Each with a bushel, and a peck, and a hug around the neck.
The quiet morning has been ruined. Although I tried, I failed to grasp it in its totality, failed to convey to you its extreme beauty.
It lies at our feet in shreds.
I know I will never have
a morning like this again,
not exactly like this,
and I’ve let it slip away.
Oct 19, 2022
Oct 19, 2022 at 7:33 PM UTC
The Gentle
Pawprints
Lurk
In The
Desolated
Abandoned
Snow
Where
Tears
Wrap The
Cares
The Prison
Bars
With Sorrows
The Bones
Cry
In The
Lonely
Snow
With Scratches
Of
Words
I Wish
"I Was
Here
With You
The
Only Death
Worth
Fighting
Seeing
Hearing
For
Was Your
Heart
Of Bones"
~Paris Styron~
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC