"sunburns" poems
He was the ocean; handsome, but yet, Impulsively damaged. He had a sandy heart to correspond his sandy eyes, the moon dismantled that omitted pride he carried at a dead weight; shoveling and reshaping it, so people would see a sandcastle statue assembled in strength. But his washed-up soul and unannounced insecurities were aware of its genuine purpose,
this beach alongside his pupils;
quicksand, he'll sink so slowly in. Waves in his hair like ripples on his cheeks, skipping stones land at his defeat, he left notes in bottles for you, sank multiple ships for you, because he hasn't the heart to say he's desiccating with the arrival of the stars.. Retracting scars are not too far from gasps for air, foaming words of crisis by writing in the sand, signaling a light as the last one in him died. You wouldn't understand, the calm before the storm, as valve after valve puncture him. So intoxicating as it drains him, and from within, he's drying out. Sunburns stain him, a smile restrains him,
in an inescapable drought--
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 4:32 PM UTC
The sharp line separating where the sun met your skin
And where it was protected by your shirt is more prominent than ever
Because you forgot to lather on your sunscreen.
The dirt settles into a thin film
Covering every inch of your body
Caking into your hair making it feel
Like you haven't washed your hair for days.
The bugs are constantly buzzing around your face
Leaving bites up and down your arms
Making them itchy and irritated.
But, the sunburns, dirt filled clothes, and bugs
Only strengthens my love for the game.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 3:36 PM UTC
A beautiful mountain, white with snow
A light breeze, a wind ice cold
Frozen in time, I stare in awe
Under ice is a heart so raw
Diamonds glistening, ice shimmering
An imbalance of time and minds dancing
Beauty and despair frozen in ice
Waiting for summer sun to pay the price
Still and quiet, but the pain screams in your head
Frozen in place beside your bed
Staring into the pains
A hundred rocks flow through your veins
A thousand needles biting skin
Outward calm, but screaming within
Summer warmth approaching
Ice slowly melting, diamonds gleaming
With perseverance you break the ice
It falls, shattering, what a sacrifice
I watch as there is nothing I can do
As your body shed the ice encasing you
It is beauty and despair, intertwined
Dripping to the floor, Oh how I adore
To watch you come alive. An uproar!
No longer frozen, full of motion
As if watching a glistening ocean
You stand tall, high above us all
For you melted the ice, made it fall
Leaving only a memory
Your fight so strong, dauntlessly
Standing, living, believing, and yet...
Your feet are wet, so with regret
I must inform of icy returns
Gone are the days of summer sunburns
For ice will come, it will be done
Your body shunned from our warm sun
You will freeze again, be lost again
Icy diamonds will shine like back then
You must remain strong while waiting,
Frozen in time that is crippling
Shed your ice everyday, overcome
One day Summer will stay and all this will be done
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 12:43 PM UTC
Staring at sunburns from sunsets-- we watched the waves crash around us.
Bagels and wine; don't even dare to judge us.
With bittersweet goodbyes we washed the sand from our toes and walked home.
Staring at sunburns from sunsets-- we watched the birds fly above us gracefully.
Pizza and ****** beer; don't act like you're better than us.
With bittersweet goodbyes, we danced home with no shoes in the city lights.
Staring at sunburns from sunsets-- we talked about our deepest fears.
Orange juice and tacos; don't act like you know us.
With bittersweet goodbyes we let the wind sing us one last song before we went home to the place we hated the most.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
Waves taller than I was
cool atlantic ocean
grainy sand between my fingers
burying my toes.
Hot sunburns and salty hair
the beach bars where we used to eat off the kids meal
going back to your condo
sitting on your couch.
Thrown over his shoulders
covered in sand, the warm weight used to be fun but now it just scares me
you scare me.
My shoulders were kissed
sunscreen on my back
the lukewarm pools and marco polo races holding my breath until i thought my lungs would explode.
The water would rush back with the pull of the ocean our sundresses damp around our ankles, bruises over our mouths where you held them shut
The porch light was on to the condo my towel draped over your balcony, bathing suit bottoms in your bedroom.
Forgotten toys and to pairs of arm floaties because i was never good at swimming, you left your watch on the shoreline.
Crying because of the pain and the hatred and love
Never knowing if I would be cuddled or touched
but knowing i would be cuddled after being touched
those sunburnt spots caressed by you.
White caps peak as the sun rises, we’re cold with fevers and abuse, shaking as our feet are wet again with salty water and your watch pulled out to the sea, lost forever.
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
Seeking a gentleman who gets lost in thoughts
Feels everything and holds onto nothing.
Bachelor must tolerate banjos, books, and bare-feet.
A writer is preferred, but not exclusively.
I'm seeking a companion who loves tea and coffee in the afternoons
Must be willing to gamble with the suggested shows on netflix
And suggested artists on pandora.
Bonus points if music moves him in directions he didn't know existed.
Seeking a gentleman whose heart is made entirely of love and passion
With a reasonable head
And an unapologetic twinkle in his eyes.
I warn you that I love sunburns and tank-tops
Rain makes me sad, and I own a blue Snuggie named Ralf.
I laugh too loud at lame jokes about muffins and bars
Cry desperately in movies
And am driven to push boundaries.
***** makes me loose
I'm terrified of fourteen-year-old girls and spiders.
And I consider 90 degrees to be jacket weather.
I'm seeking a gentleman with an empty hand and a full heart
That I can love with all that I have
Laugh with, cry with, dream with.
You can find me in the words on this page.
I'll be waiting.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 7:31 PM UTC
timing is probably the most important thing
in the entire universe
when you really think about it -
it's like when a certain record comes out
and it defines that entire era
of your life
like the summer of 2001 when I was nine,
in the car with my dad on a hot summer day
and he stumbled upon "I'm Like A Bird" on one of the stations,
and we turned it up, rolled the windows down,
and we knew that that song would always be
ours.
and it's truly just so crucial to our existence,
the timing of things -
like when I met this beautiful person on the internet
who soon after became my best friend
and turned my whole life around. but the timing of it
was perfect and had i not met her right on that day of that month
of that year, i probably would not be remotely close
to who i am today.
and I already know that this summer is going to be associated
with Daft Punk's 'Random Access Memories', with "Get Lucky" blaring loud
on every stereo in the city,
it will remind me of Eisley's album, "Currents", and the song "On My Balcony"
by the band, Flunk.
Six months from now when I look back on the summer of 2013,
I will think of those songs and those records,
I will think of how hard I was trying to stay afloat and become
a better person, for nobody but myself,
and how good of a job I was doing with the action
of letting go of things that were toxic for me.
I will think of blonde hair and dancing in the rain, hot sweaty shifts
running around a crowded restaurant, being sad about how much time
I still have left until I get to see my favourite person again, and I will think of
boredom and sunburns and bad poems and love and hope and willingness
to overcome fear. And music. So much music.
This isn't really a poem but more of a very lengthy acknowledgment
regarding the importance of timing, especially perfect timing,
and how even bad timing is usually disguised as
perfect timing in the end.
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 12:36 AM UTC
*When I was younger, I wanted to be an astronaut. I told myself, "I want to see the stars and the planets up-close." I think probably we all had that stage in childhood where we all wished to be space walkers like Armstrong.
But eight years later, now I don't wish to be an astronaut anymore. I wish to be a writer. Because I have already seen all of the stars and the nebulae in your eyes. I wonder how they all got condensed in those two small circles like the moon. I whisper to myself, "It's so lustrous."
I already felt the weightlessness of space in your kisses, and your hugs are like oxygen tanks -- I need them to breathe. And when I see you-- just looking at your gait and smelling your perfume is even more enthralling than being in a launching rocket ship that pierces through the clouds and breaks the invisible mantle that separates the Earthly skies from the cosmic tapestry called "the rest of the universe". And I float away from reality and just revolve around the idea of you and nothing more like how the satellites of Jupiter revolve around it almost eternally.
I don't need to see the constellations anymore nor the planets or the meteors because I have seen them all in your skin-- I painted them on your skin. Others might call it bruises, but they do not understand that your body-- your neck, your arms, your chest are empty spaces and it'd feel like a sin not to embellish them with love marks -- the bruises that do not scream pain but* I love you's. *And I love you.
More than all the splendor of space, I still find your hair and the arch of your back and the gaps between your fingers and your clavicles so much more beautiful. Even this galaxy we live in seem to be unfit for its name: Milky Way. I think that name suits better your complexion alone. And when you smile-- oh, your smile! -- it is more radiant than the brightest comet and more warm than the hottest blue star; even the sun in the most arid summer-- it just gives me sunburns, but your smile, only yours, renders my heart melted.
When I was younger, I wanted to be an astronaut because I wanted to see the space. But now I don't anymore. Because I learned that astronauts are just spectators and I want to write about the universe. I want to write about you.*
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
the waves break like the days that chase them
and our hardened layers fall down around our ankles
and sacrafice themselves to the edges of the shorline
it's the sunshine season
we don our freckled, olive, summer skin
as we slip into our cut-off shorts and boat shoes
the winter blues melt into their tributaries and take off for the sea
leaving us to blush and bloom like budding tulips
work stained hands toss the rule books aside
making room for a cheap can of beer and an ancient dog earred map
let the dusty two-tracks point you back
to your abandoned spirit of adventure
and your neglected hiking boots
let's go
let's run off towards the sunset
and the lake bed
and get to the heart of what matters in the middle of nowhere
let's get lost sunburned
drunk
and young
it's time to be better again
to be happy as children again
i'll meet you out there
somewhere along the edges of where the water fades to mountains
and the mountains pierce the skies
i hope to see you there...
with a smile on your face and your heart on your sleeve
i promise to bookmark a place for you
let's go find what they are all missing
nurse our hearts
and our spirits
and that primitive instinct burried somewhere deep inside us
that begs us to chase the sweetness
to play
climb
dance
and grow
let's go
but first
a toast
here's to you
and to me
and to every skinned knee that eventually led us to learn the ropes
here's to the countless hopes and dreams that we've had to reconstruct
in order to shape our own realities
here's to sunburns
moonshine
and all that we can be
beneath these summer skies.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
May 2013
Memorial day weekend
It was warm with promises of sun
Beautiful blue skies
And no cloud in sight
Seattle prepared for crowds
People swarming the Center
For folk music, food
Laughter and smiles shining bright
My leg, a bright red
I woke up
Burning hot with red seeping up my leg
Pain swarmed my back
Tears gathering
In corners of my eyes
As I was admitted
To the emergency room
Greeted with morphine, leaving me in a haze
*** induced haze
Lingering around the fountain
Families occupied the edge
Children running in and out
Collecting droplets of water
Along with sunburns
While groups of friends
Gathering in drum circles
Slow rhythmic thumping could be heard for miles
My son’s heartbeat
Thumped in my ears
I watched the fear
As he focused on the antibiotic drips
Invading my body
The days in clipped moments
Passing in and out
With each wave of fever
And the doctors
Tattooed my leg with sharpie
Artwork was only one thing
Found in the vendor alley
People flooded the booths
Snatching up
Brightly colored creations
As they headed to find
Dance troupes, bollywood
Inspired activities
With stomping feet, swaying arms
They placed the central line
Into my right arm
My body had clogged each IV
the doctors warned me
If the redness started
To show patterns of serrating
Then they would have to take my leg
Diazepam had me slurring out
I am fine, I am fine
Memorial Day
A time of remembrance
Services to be held
Events to commemorate
All the fallen
From a concert at Museum of Flight
To baseball game with Seattle Mariners
To appreciate, appreciate
It took ten days
For me to be released
May 2013, Memorial Day weekend
I would always remember
As the beginning
Of my growing struggle
With gradual loss of mobility
I am fine, I am fine
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 12:03 AM UTC
I want to spend my mornings drinking tea in the early English fog.
Spend my afternoon at the foot of the Eiffel Tower being touristy drinking dark red wine.
I want to drink beer in Germany and head on over to Ireland for dinner.
I want to get sunburns from sunsets in Italy.
Talk to the deadliest animals alive in Australia and swim in the blue ocean near New Zealand.
I want to pic flowers in Thailand and eat sushi in China.
My heart will never stop wandering.
My heart will never be still.
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 8:37 AM UTC
Summer is
bikes and rollerblades
and go-carts and skateboards,
kites and frisbees
and ***** and gloves,
rainbows and suncatchers
and white fluffy clouds,
blue skies and green fields
and sunshine and flowers,
bare feet and sandy toes
and waves on the shore,
tan lines and sunburns
and goofy tourists,
yellow and orange
and summer rain,
butterflies and gardens
and fresh vegetables,
smiles and funny faces
and silly conversations,
smirks and giggles
and big belly laughs,
playing outside until the streetlights come on
and picking flowers for the dinner table,
building sandcastles just to knock them down
and shelling so many peas your finger go numb,
staring at a sky so blue it hurts your eyes
and running barefoot through the cool grass
and laughing so hard you can't even breathe.
Summer is.
Oct 3, 2009
Oct 3, 2009 at 3:29 PM UTC
I have had terrible days,
I only remember the good.
I have been mad at things,
I only remember being sane.
“Is something strangely wrong?”
I have been glum,
I only remember the sunshine.
**** has hit the fan too many times,
I only remember the calm.
“That can’t be true!”
Sunburns erased,
I only remember the warmth.
Storms have come and gone,
I only remember the unshaken faith.
“Is this for real?”
My heart has wept oceans,
I only remember the soft breeze on my face.
I have had scary thoughts,
I only remember the pleasant dreams.
If this is true, I sure am happy.
If this is real, I am content.
If you don’t believe me,
I am not asking you to.
Let me be,
I can never be you.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
oh if only you knew
i would give anything
anything to be
anything other than me
freckled knees
freckled shoulders
freckled arms
"why are you so pale?
you look like you're dead
have you tried getting a tan?"
the irony stings my burned shoulders,
yes i have tried.
yellowed bruises remain on my thighs,
the thighs that got me called fat
in the seventh grade
"have you ever noticed
she's kinda fat? i mean
her thighs are so big,
they're like thunder thighs"
and from that statement a nickname was coined
that caused me to desperately,
desperately,
need to be skinnier
and i'll never be enough
"darling, are you okay?
please take this
go home and eat a big dinner
the wind is going to blow you away!"
i don't think i can ever win
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
Humid, sweat
The frizzing of hair
Burning black leather
Scalding seat buckles that induce cursing
Air condition on full blast
Walk in sweating
Walk out shivering
Self made fans out of anything
Slip n slides, swimming, ice cream
Sun glasses
Soaking up the sun
Ice tea, lemonade
Aiming for that killer tan
Sunburns, aloe vera
Sticky school days
That last too long
And the savior of the south goes to
Central air
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
there is a crusted-
over, nasty-
looking cut
on
my left
knee
from a bike
accident
I had the
other
day
both of my
big toes have
calluses that
size of quarters
on the
inside-back
parts
of
their
undersides
tiny sunburns
from where my
feet stuck
out of
the sand
decorate my left
and right
feet
my pale belly
and legs
seem ever whiter
in comparison
to my sunburnt and
darkening arms
there is somebody
out there who thinks
I am beautiful
how have stayed strong
all these years?
I can see my ugliness,
my scars, and my abrasions
just the same as everybody
else
they are there
they are morbid
and disgusting
they are who
I am and I act
as such
I know exactly why
and how people hate
me
yet
I’ve never faltered
in a hurricane or
the breeze
I am who I am
I say
and nothing more
still stories flutter,
rumors fly, and
I can’t help but
notice the stores
and tales that
circulate
I’m lucky someone
still finds time to look
at me straight
perhaps the strongest of men
are only left with the opportunity
to gain
Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 5:49 AM UTC
When I look at you i see the day
A morning where a few of my life will be
Slowly it will be dark as your promises
I will see the dawning in your eyes
The threshold of hope above your chin
The lies within your illuminating path
Guiding me in a sea of anything
Random clouds will pour beneath you
For the ray of you aren't perfect
You are still forever shining
But living under you is blinding
How hot you could be yet in a cold way
So good as necessities
Burns in a million sunburns i felt agony
Why am i awake when i see you?
Why do i sleep my life away when you're not around?
It got me twisted
You are someone i love to have
But i need to accept that some point
Too much of everything can be bad
That the world is spinning
Some things are going to be missing
And when i look at the sky at night
I shall remember how the day used to be
Back then
Every time when I look at you
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 11:01 AM UTC
the ice cream truck makes me very sad
because it reminds me of all the things i've lost--
childhood,
innocence,
endless summer,
and you,
my once-upon-a-darling.
and that rainbow snow cone with gum at the bottom
sits heavy in my chest.
not because i want you back,
but because i do not,
and i miss the girl
that would have.
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 1:48 PM UTC
To the world unknown,
Be beautiful,
With great expanses of green,
Filled with flowers unseen,
Unicorns and the unreal animals.
Be gentle and kind,
Have no harsh weather or natural disasters,
Not too much sunlight,
I don't want sunburns,
Not too much snow,
I don't want to catch a cold,
Not too much rain,
I don't want flood.
Just adequate,
The way I like it.
To the world unknown,
Be filled with beautiful souls and beautiful people,
With no violence or war,
Where people die of old age,
Not of sickness or diseases,
Nor of poison or venom.
To the world unknown,
I know you're not real,
But sometimes I wish you'd exist once in a while,
Because sometimes I need a break.
Sometimes. Because other times, Earth seems a lot more awesome,
Beautiful also,
And I haven't seen the half of it,
It may not be perfect as in the beginning,
But to an imperfect being such as myself,
You would only interest me for a while,
In the long run you'd be boring.
To the world unknown,
You cannot exist,
Because I don't have the power to make you exist.
I don't have the power to make you exist because
The I am that I am has made it so,
Because the world He has created,
The one I live in,
The one that actually exists,
Is more beautiful than you.
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
I have been suffering from sunburns.
Sunburns that I call "missing you" syndrome.
I have been feeling the scorching heat of the Sun
and the burning sensation on my skin.
It's not the kind of warmth that I miss.
I could not reach the Sun.
He is far. He is vibrant, fiery and hot.
I could not gaze at him on his blazing peak.
I looked down in tears.
I miss him, I am trying to say it,
but all I can do is to swallow my words and get burned with my own longing.
Sunburn, sometimes it's on my skin.
Most of the time, it's the Sun that I am missing. ☀️
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 8:31 AM UTC
You lean into these curves
like we were going faster
down these one lane back-roads.
My dog, Moon, curled on some coats
beside me in the back.
My window cracked, cold, keen air
sweeps my hair, a breeze of
kisses like a natural
mother spreading aloe
on my sunburns. We blaze on,
winding through twists and turns.
The road is out there. Trust me.
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
I am from the ocean
I am from the black sand
And the cream sand
I am from the long drives down south
From the ipan mobile soft serve
I am from the cuts and bruises of the coral and sand
From the multiple layers of sunscreen smudged on my face
From the tears that came when the sunscreen burned my eyes
I am from the sandcastles and forts
From the sunburns and tears
From the bucket of ***** that I was so set on taking home
I am from the sandy chips and sandwiches
From the sandball fights and balati wars
I am from the sound of the ocean inside the shells
I am from the small waves I could jump over
And from the huge waves I swam under
I am from the struggling currents
From the low tide to high tide
From the sting of saltwater in my eyes
I am from the countless hours spent collecting seashells
I am from the good tan lines and bad tan lines
I am from the ocean, the beach, the blue
May 12, 2012
May 12, 2012 at 11:04 PM UTC
Give me one truth to hold onto
cause I’ve been wishing on stars
higher than my expectations
My maybe stars and mostly flames
but they always fall down like hail
and leave bruises on my shoulders
already riddled with red spots
left by my bad habits and self hate
And bruises mostly stay longer than you want them to
talking about your weakness to strangers you’ve never met
It’s the same with hickeys and sunburns, but aren’t they all reminders
that yesterday your heart sang into another being
or ocean waves crashed into your ankles
and I know your eyes light up when that music starts
so don’t try to deny your vulnerability
You know, most of us been waiting for our lives to begin
for as long as we can remember
hoping and hanging onto daydreams
of inner peace and finally having love
but the smallest nighttime erases them
and our whispers are lost in the cracks of thunder
just like
every other wonder of every other lover I have
and all those lovers are stifled by each other’s unspoken phrases
and the rumble in the back of your head that chokes out
“don’t make a fool of yourself” “your words can’t carry your heart” “you will only end up embarrassed”
Why are we all so embarrassed?
When our beautiful friends stand in front of us blossoming as wide as a montana sky
and you stand there with a gate constraining your compassion like you’ve never cried yourself to sleep
But I have been both the guilty and the ashamed
and the only certainty I can give
is to speak your truth
or else wonder if you’re wishing on satellites
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 12:25 AM UTC
I am lost under ten feet of hurt
Thrown in the deep end, to learn how to swim
Or more likely, how to drown
With the last sigh of my tired life
Now sliding between my teeth
Those shiny molars that never did me any good
That drop of blood stuck permanently to my lower lip
Trembling
Under the weight of it's own existence
I taste the salt and it's familiar
Like sunburns and childhood
Like beach sand and mounting anxiety
All blooming now before my eyes
This skin I wear, this face I adorn
Crack at the first sign of tremors
Fault lines rip down my spine
And rubies run down my skin
What destruction has been caused, what hell has been raised
All by some omniscient force hiding just over the skyline
Blame those smiling pharmaceuticals
Who in seventeen years, did not once print a warning label, a DO NOT ENTER, a DEAD END ROAD
Who in seventeen years were happy to lend me a life jacket with one hand while tying me to an anchor with the other
But when I look down at my hands,
The evidence is evident,
The facts are gory, the proof is red:
Fingernails are stained with my own blood.
Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 1:13 AM UTC
i. there’s a girl. narrow-boned, wild hair like a lion’s mane, sprawled underneath the shade of a looming fig tree. her teeth are all that’s sharp about her. soft curves, soft lips, a soft paradox in the Garden. in this lost land, there she is, subtle and tinged with the same stardust you once believed could save us all.
angelic, you’d call her, if she looked more grotesque. more like the cherubim of ol’, dressed in flames, impaled on swords, screeching the name “hosanna, hosanna” without mouths. but there are no wings, no heavenly trumpets, just the afterimage of divinity– something laced with hope, but already rotting. she spits out seven seeds and you don’t know if this is a land of God or gods anymore.
ii. she smiles and it feels like death.
you are unable to solve the riddle sprung from the lion’s ribcage– but the roof of your mouth tastes like honey and blood and you don’t mind. there’s no linearity, no familiar whine of a donkey, nor the sound of sand against gravel or sandaled feet marred by sunburns and blisters.
there is simply you and her and an eternity of possibilities that whisper in a forked tongue, “adam, oh adam,” and your heart drops. is this the end? but it tastes so sweet and you are alright to die like this, cradled between what was once in your womb and a creature of scales.
you do not expect the guilt that drips down your chin with each rivulet of juice.
iii. they call it love.
you call it divine absolution.
she calls it the beginning of humanity.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC