"rivering" poems
I was sick
I was so sick
I called you late,
'cause I was burning
And I thought
I might die
And I frightened myself to let you in
Your knock hurt my ears,
But so quiet you thought to knock again
Before you could,
I answered
Because there was fire in me
And you drank the sight of me
Bared to just a tanktop and my underwear
Dark rings under my eyes
Milky skin glowing phosphorescent in the dark
And for a second
I was afraid
That you would think badly of me
And refuse to come in
And say I can't help you
But then you hugged
(like you always do)
With your arms wrapped like a straitjacket
But pulled back in surprise
Because I was giving off so much heat
Then your eyes grew tight and worried
And you picked me up
bridal style
Suddenly my eyes ran
Rivering over my blazing cheeks
I swear the tears evaporated! I swear!
(I don't know what the tears were for
the wanting of you? - for so long you'd forgotten
or the relief? - that I would not die alone
or the pain? - for things I might never see)
And you set me down
Surrendered me to a long, soft floor
Pressed your cool hands to my forehead
And then to my back,
(I fancied they left blue shards of ice
Unmeltable in my white-hot skin
I almost lost my mind with pain)
And then you made the doctor come
(I don't remember this)
But my monsters had already arrived
Creeping through the darkness
I cried out, my voice
Startling you from your methodical
smoothing of my hair
I don't know if I'll make it
Maybe I won't get through this
Maybe this will be the last time
Maybe you'll be my last love
Maybe I'll have my last breath
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 2:34 PM UTC
HITHERING AND TITHERING WATERS OF..
Aaw sure she's my own
little Finnegans Wake.
For my little skeowsha
language is lava
the mind is molten
flowing.
She catches tones and hones
in on the last word.
"pleaseyawannanicecupof...TEA?"
She knows how to
stick question marks on
things like
"...sweets?"
The thunder scares her
on Thursday
& becomes
Thundersday.
The flies bother her on Friday...
becomes Flieday.
Not realising she is
quoting Mr, Joyce
following in his WAKE.
Or she makes up her own
"ONESDAY...TWOSDAY
WEDDINGDAY...FATTERDAY
SOMEDAY!"
She my little trinketotes
my dear ***** Dumpling.
I read her to sleep.
Not a peep
when Anna Livia Plurabelle...
tells her tale.
Beside the tickling waters of.
Beside the chuckling waters of.
Beside the laughing waters of.
She loves
the music of it all.
"Again!"
she agains it!
" Can't hear with the waters of.
The chittering waters of.
Night now.
Tell me, tell me, tell me elm.
Night night!
Tellmetale of stem or stone.
Beside the rivering waters of..
Hithering tithering waters of.
Night."
Jun 18, 2017
Jun 18, 2017 at 6:02 PM UTC
anything you look at
is a convergence point
of unregistrable perceptions,
rivering.
lightning before thunder,
but don't dare call it:
lightning or thunder, or thundering
lightning, even lightning-thunder.
that which sight has commonized
can never catch it in the act.
of being.
in the: act-act-act...pick one,
and it's already gone--done.
cherry picking is done for us, as
the brain screams ****** ******
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
HITHERING AND TITHERING WATERS OF..
Ahhh sure she's my own
little Finnegans Wake.
For my little skeowsha
language is lava
the mind is molten
forever flowing.
She catches tones and hones
in on the last word.
"pleaseyawannanicecupof...TEA?"
She knows how to
stick question marks on
the end of things
like: "...sweets?"
The thunder scares her
on Thursday
& becomes
Thundersday.
The flies bother her on Friday...
becomes Flieday.
Not realiasing she is
quoting Mr, Joyce
following in his WAKE.
Or she makes up her own
"ONESDAY...TWOSDAY
WEDDINGSDAY...FATTERDAY
SOMEDAY!"
She my little trinketoes
my dear ***** Dumpling.
I read her to sleep.
Not a peep
when Anna Livia Plurabelle...
tells her tale.
Beside the tickling waters of.
Beside the chuckling waters of.
Beside the laughing waters of.
She loves
the music of it all.
"Again!"
she agains it!
" Can't hear with the waters of.
The chittering waters of.
Night now.
Tell me, tell me, tell me elm.
Night night!
Tellmetale of stem or stone.
Beside the rivering waters of.
Hithering tithering waters of.
Night."
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 3:38 PM UTC
as i climb
this cascade
of mediums
flowing old
rivering up rivers
never understood
the gulf stream
an ocean's river
banking on itself
as if nothing
well imagined
easily turns
the tidal pull
and earthy bulge
a finger traces
peering faces
Aug 8, 2025
Aug 8, 2025 at 8:57 PM UTC
Solely and only upon yonder radiance,
Hovering in awe as it dims,
The moonlight, as it shuts the fireflies,
And the butterflies fade white lo!
Allow me to look,
To fixate my gaze upon thee,
To let my heart stray,
Just for once in all times myriad….
Because I see thee flaring red,
Violet too, as it shimmers,
In which I failed to see,
A star thought fallen,
One that escaped me,
And too, my conscience shaken….
“And how I’d wish to hold you tight,
To have your all mine, just for the night….”
The very strand of your rivering crown,
As it entangles hearts and souls,
One dash too many, leaving damsels frown,
Envious, as all their knights growl….
“The first sight of thee, yonder hair as it flows,
As it compels winter’s first sunrise….”
Grant me entrance,
Paint me audacious, if you will;
To have not a mere peek,
But thy naked soul I seek!
Verily, how I’d wish to stay,
Before yonder glistening complexion,
One elegant, another meekly laced,
Innocence, complexity, and beauty,
Verses, songs, and poetry,
O lovely, how it leaves me entranced!
“Thy very eyes, jewels a pair, the brightest of all.”
And as it brought me deep,
Far under fairly steep,
Sweetly enticing, it tempts,
Lusciously as it draws,
Nearer towards I; O guilty bliss!
As I fell enchanted to its scent,
To its vermillion charm I vent,
How red and velvety!
O how I’d wish to feast upon it!
“I vow to consume it whole, bitter sweet to its very
pith. Thy lips verily, Scarlet’n glossy!”
As I would see the whole of you,
Violet as it engulfs, thy ***** a hand,
And deep onyx as it taints thy stand,
A fair column as it braces; O grassy font!
Fair'n sleek, allow me to quench my thirst within!
"As I would keep you on sight, I'll etch it through. Your very stature, yonder silhouette divine."
As I bid thee fair well,
Eternal in a night myriad....
"My lady in violet,
Tonight, you look gorgeous."
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 12:00 AM UTC