"regrew" poems
I crushed it, and it regrew anyways.
The hypothesis, was more romantic,
than tossing and yearning all night
over losing teeth in a giraffe fight.
Your hypothesis, was more romantically
worded, than a thesis on how birds die on impact
when colliding with a glass windowpane,
retrieving teeth lost during a giraffe brawl.
Worded, like the thesis about how birds die during impact,
each line of the letter dripped with invisible ink,
like colliding with a glass window. Pain
is only fleeting, if the end comes close behind.
Every line in each letter, drawn with invisible ink,
doesn't sound in the pronunciation, which
is only fleeting, if the end line draws closed behind.
So close your characters behind you, and don't let the draft in.
Does it not sound in the pronoun, the annulment of which
leaves every thing indefinite, and incomplete.
So clothe your characters before you, so they don't let in a draft,
and catch a cold from ****** or being indistinct.
What leaves everything indefinitely incomplete
other than the ability of the mind to hypothesize,
and catch a cold in the **** state of being extinct?
The inability to reconcile your metaphorical heart and instinct.
The others, they, have the ability to hypothesize,
about what makes us toss and yearn at night.
I forgave your inability to reconcile. My heart: pure instinct.
So you crushed it, and still it grew anyways.
Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 8:18 PM UTC
For a while now, I've had a thought swimming alongside my awareness, a fin cutting the water as I wait for it to save or **** me. Dolphin or shark? It came near enough for me to make out its shape recently.
**** or save? I know at least that it wasn't a fat guy with a prank fin and a snorkel. It closed on me and I realized what is most painfully missing.
When I am touched, it is simply that.
Dreamlike, my finned pursuer still refused to reveal its whole shape to me, and instead became the emotive image of a hand lovingly reaching for my face.
That small act of love is gone.
It means so much to me, that tenderness, that I ruined the last ship I sailed. I tore every beam apart in my search for what was just a three-legged spider deep in her darkest corner. So I burned down the good ship Treble and used the remains to float away.
I drifted to an atoll and chose a meek ******* It would certainly do, what better place to spend my remaining balance of time?
The breezes whispered and wouldn't stop.
Tides eroded and regrew my ******* until the even rhythm became inherently strange. So steady.
Evenly, unknown, eternity.
When the bottle washed up, I jealously guarded it from the ******* I should not have called the ******* Wilson.
Apparently Wilson controlled the weather.
Several gales and at least one hurricane punished my foolish hide. But the bottles kept coming, encouraged by the raging.
Shortly after, I learned to surf.
Well, I wasn't good at it. And Wilson didn't approve. It only took a little inclementation to sweep me away. If Wilson did control the weather, she must have been exhausted by then.
What a flimsy board.
It was my shield, held wearily up against the hungry ocean. Before my encounter with the amorphous beast, I was just drifting, again, unsure what quixotic urge took me so far.
And then the fin arrived.
**** or save?
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 1:10 PM UTC
It was created for one purpose
To hit where its brothers had landed
And stay
But as it was drifting Aimlessly down
It saw you
It saw your smile
Heard you laugh
Saw the completely original uniqueness of you.
An in that moment its heart burst and rapidly regrew
With a new purpose in mind.
To touch you,
So as it drifted down it swayed from its brothers hoping to find you.
It wiggled and squirmed and moved all about
Until it finally landed
On your nose
As I hugged your red nose did you hear it?
What it whispered to you?
I did
I heard the soft ‘I love you’
Before its grip on you faded and melted away.
The sweet soft suicide of a snowflake
It certainly wasn't the first to fall in love with you,
And it won't be the last.
Dec 22, 2017
Dec 22, 2017 at 11:52 AM UTC
a year and a half ago you demolished the home we built together and you ran a tornado across the flowers we grew but somehow the floorboards managed to stay intact and the seeds were untouched so I somehow managed to begin building our house again and I regrew the flowers in hope that you would one day return and realize that I was the love of your life but as time went on I began to grow weak and I had to start lying to everyone I knew saying that I was okay without you because I couldn't deal with the torment anymore and then you decided a week ago that you thought it was be a marvelous idea to tell me you wanted to see me and when I saw you at the coffee shop my knees got shaky and I thought my heart was going to beat out of my chest but I couldn't handle lying anymore so I somehow was able to say how I felt and that you're still all I've ever wanted and the only thing you were able to say was that you thought that this was us working it out but my god we weren't ever going to be able to talk it out because you refused to tell me you were still in love with me and no matter what you say now it doesn't matter because in that moment you couldn't even speak so last night I ripped up the floorboards and I pulled out the flowers and seeds because I'll be ****** if I let you ruin my life any longer and while I wish I was still it for you I'm also starting to realize that I never really was it to begin with so I thank the lord because I think I'm finally clean and I think that I'll be able to go on without your voice wrapped around my throat.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 12:08 PM UTC
We told our stories to the demons
that hid in our ratted hair
and carved out secrets beneath the black bark
of trees, They bled every stroke and our secrets
were never told.
In the night we collected the broken
pieces of corvine hearts and kept them
warm within the casing of our pillows
Every night that our mascara fell became a lullaby
for the love birds to sing in their
mourning.
We danced with lilac vines
we kissed endangered ivory
we loved evergreens
we flirted with death
Monarchs came to our slumber and
whispered sweet nothings to the demons
and in the morning the bark regrew on the
trees
and ever since
it hasn't been quite the same
May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 4:11 AM UTC
You look tired, girl.
The lines on your face
from annual frost wedging
sprout tiny trees and assemblies of
lichens
that blot the pages of your book
like carelessly spilt ink,
but it's not worth crying over.
I spent my time trying to read those
pages,
those hieroglyphs
penned in a foreign
and dead tongue.
I tried to read the landscape of you.
Where split rocks harbor still-breathing mammals
at the base of your collar bone.
Where the aspens quake
and make homes for hawks
on the crest of your bony hip.
Where the trickles of water babble
softly,
but not unheard
and the trout jump like living jokes
in the cracks on your tongue.
Really, I tried.
And the closer I looked the more I realized
that you are not my native land.
I was an invasive species there
and I could feel the god in you
crying out
to abolish the man in me.
So I tore down the shack I had built
at the border between you and I
and I watched as the trees regrew
where I used to harvest my firewood
and I saw the deer
bed down
as the sun set
behind the
cold and silent mountain range
that fringes your hairline-
those mighty castle walls
that I could never truly breach.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 2:58 PM UTC
he sneaks in a marriage to steal the joy
he sneaks in the family to steal trust
he sneaks in the relationship to steal faith
he sneaks in the friendship to destroy time
he sneaks in every heart to steal the love
but love didn't shiver
he sneaks in every heart to destroy the love
but love regrew
he sneaks in every to end love once and for all
but love over came him so he would love himself but...
sad is there are more valentine thieves other than him
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 10:52 AM UTC