"sundust" poems
Scattered, splattered gold – like sunshine, once
It crashes into a dark place, a cave by the sea,
Where no one ever goes.
She can pick it up, let it slip and drip
Between her fingers, fingertips. But
She can’t put it back together again.
This girl, someone’s child, she dances
And reads books, and likes to ride her bike
To ride roller-coasters, to fall in love like
The famous people. Mickey Mouse.
She loves love.
Or she used to, she once did, not now.
When she was young, she would write poems
And she would know so, that they were poems.
But somewhere, the rhythm of her mind changed:
Syncopation, alliteration, became the sing-song
That helped her through the night.
*tonight
i don't belong here
my skin is not mine
hair like rope
up, i climb
to nowhere
tonight
pits where my eyes were
petals for lips
irises
we fall into blue
deep violet, violent blue
like oceanwater weight
i am, but not here
like kafka on the shore*
So now she stays, she lives in the dark place,
That same cave where the sea places
Her secrets, things that need to be saved.
And she’s wrist deep in what used to be
Something warm, and sweet, and really quiet –
Holding sundust, smeared
Willing it back into the sky.
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 8:38 PM UTC
xii.
big hips; small hips and long, skinny legs
people and the worlds inside them
pointing at the screen
which movie should we watch?
the last time i watched movie alone
was divergent
it was an insane ride
and my parents picked me up
knowing i had lost a thing
but they didn't ask
and i didn't tell
i was ***** by poetry
-- i am holy
just like lilith, eve, and mary --
watch out i am trying to heal
so what if i am romanticizing
illness! i am not ill
enough
to lose
my eyes see clear
anabelle, tickets sold out
the people; in hijab, in short skirt
in high heels and slippers
their faces
i see them clear
it looks the same like that friday
just feels different
it has been months
a relatively insane ride
so cathartic
my land may well be a big cathedral
or some sweet mosque
with all the gods
praying to each other
with cold soup in their tongue
and stale milk they offer
to the homeless like us, you know
home isn't really the walls and roof
that keep you from rain and sundust
home is the rain and dust and your sunburned hands and the acnes on your face and
the wounds on your knees
you got when you were learning
to bike
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
purple,
violent with love
so deep beyond sight
but silver calm serene as well--
the flicker-mood incarnate,
a swiper styled at the center crux of being
that better me,
likes to hide all foxy
in giggle fits of cosmic nothing else but play
--amethyst beams
and silhouetted sundust whirls
of pain dispersed and lethe wards agleam
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 8:52 PM UTC
If somehow I could find the places
beyond those books I read
and catch fickle rainbows by the tail
A lover's breath that stays
on wintry window panes
If somehow I could hear
the happy talk of the brook
and see where those lovely thoughts run
Then I could remember
how this changing world looks
Sundust that glow bright
under the dusty morning light
Stormy purple clouds
on rainy marvelous nights
Then perhaps somehow somewhere
Sometime in the evening
When I feel my tall shadow shaking
And my heart starts beating
Shall I go where the paths disappear?
Though I do not know where I’ll be
There will always be dreams
Someday I’ll be home again
Once I know where I am
The world is a dark and lovely place
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
The razorblade of wind has cut the lisping night
And sent the sun up
In the east
The mountains idle glowing
In morning's sundust storm
I see the restless leaves reflecting seas of light
As tiny trembling mirrors
But in my mind will rest
The pitch- black sea with roads of boatlights
And pale Old Man as from a Tarot card
His wizard smile
In still and tender dark
In rustles of shadows
The Moon
The eye of daytime action
the
tor
na
do
04/2003
Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 4:26 PM UTC
moondust: i take some, pour it
down my throat.
the sensations fill my stomach.
i release a powder of knowing
with every breath
stardust: i hold some, drizzle it
into my hair
it dries my scalp to concrete
sets my hair golden, fizzing, spitting
burnt from tip to root
sundust: i taste some, keep it
nestled on my tongue
biting into my cheeks, exploding
blinding me inside out, nuclear and archaic
stuck in my teeth
earthdust: i rub some, all over
my body won't react
clay shell, molluscs, squirming skin
plants sprout from my fingernails, eyelashes
my neck covered
spacedust: i kiss some, light lips
my cheeks clench
it dusts my eyelids, pretty, multi-coloured
turns my belly-button into a black hole
i take in everything.
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
Particles of sundust whirl around me like tornadoes in awe of my dance.
The moves and music coloring my world like brushstrokes and ink.
May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 6:46 PM UTC