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A large red elephant jumped on the trampoline.

Somewhere in the distance a blue eyed babe cried.

Rednecks clad in Paul Bunyan shirts inhaled the fumes of their barbecues.

Moving gracefully, a trapeze dancer tip-toed across the river.

My wife slumbered on our couch,

And wind blew a kite out of my hands.


I fed a goat nectar from my hands.

A crowd encircled the trampoline.

My family purchased a new couch,

And later that day we helplessly cried.

Our wailing could not be heard across the river,

Where rednecks continued to inhale the fumes of their barbecues.

Neighbors massed to celebrate barbecues.

I looked down at my blood stained hands,

Then joined the beautiful trapeze dancer across the river.

My red elephant broke the trampoline

And we were surrounded by infinite crying.

Nobody sat on the new couch.

Many problems arrived with the new couch;

There weren’t any more barbecues,

And my teeth crunched on granola as we cried.

Silky fabric embraced my hands.

Ingrid, my wife, dies on the trampoline.

She was buried across the river.

Some guy drank all the water from the river,

And started living on our couch.

Who would have thought I met lily on the trampoline,

And who would have thought I took up barbecues.

Now I felt warmth on the back of my hand

And I no longer cried.

Only the winter wind cried,

Howling over Ingrid’s grave across the river.

I slapped an elephant carcass with my hand,

Proceeding to cook it with salt and pepper on the couch.

I bored my wife with barbecues

So she went to jump on they trampoline.

Lily died on the trampoline; I always cried.

No longer did I host barbecues, the wind continued to howl across the river.

I gutted the couch, and killed myself with the back of my hand.
Holly Salvatore Mar 2012
Tonight we’re aligned with the stars
I’m wearing Orion’s belt
You’re drinking in thirsty gulps from the big dipper
The little one’s in freckles on your chest
And now I can hear the wind chimes
On the porch
I can hear the leaves
Of the Bradford Pear
I can hear the cats and dogs and coyotes and deer and owls
Making nighttime noises
I can hear mom snoring in the house
For one of the last times
I can hear the trampoline springs creaking with age
And feel it bouncing and swaying under us
Like it did in its heyday
I can hear you sniffling, sister,
I can hear you crying
Your warm wet tears
Are drowning my ears
Like all those summers we did swim team
When I take your hand
It’s smaller than I remember
It’s Abby circa ‘99
Though you didn’t let me hold it then
And I never tried
Now our hair is curling in swirling halos
Around the same face
Mom’s face
We never did look like Dad
Now we’re gazing at the same stars
Under the same March sky
Thinking, saying, “God is good”
Saying, believing, “How can He not be?
When the sky looks like this”
Believing, knowing, that it’s true
Even while our hearts are rocks,
Our hands are clay,
Our minds are swarming
But “God is good”
“How can He not be?
When the sky looks like this”
When our mother is a fish
How can He not be?
We know:
“God is good.”
While we’re reading the Braille of the sky
Two foxes slink by
Now we dismount the trampoline and go inside
Where we hear Mom snoring
For one of the last times
For my sister
a friend Apr 2015
a sodden trampoline
in the backyard
after it rains.
wet grass,
bare feet,
watching from
the screen door,
yelling through
cigarette smoke,
you'll catch a cold
let him live.*

he wants to fly,
forget gravity,
because he's nine
and loves to feel

like he's
in the clouds,

                                      ­   take my hand,
                                         fly with me.
                                             listen to wind
                                   and outside songs.

                                  squeaking springs,
                              can’t hear my mom or
                                              the tv inside,

                                       *take my hand.    
                                   fall with me 
                             into my seldom seen,
                  ­                      trampoline.
a sodden trampoline still bounces.
AmberLynne Mar 2015
I'm said it before,
written it before,
                                we have an easy love.
The kind you just
back in to,
like children tumbling
backward onto a trampoline,
lungs bursting with laughter.
And they never fear the fall
because they know
they'll be caught and
bounced right back up.
And let's be honest,
the exhilaration of the fall
is half the fun.
mûre Jan 2015
when my hurt became audible
you protested with your history
I know only what I've known
and you begged me to be the bigger person
and so I was.

And so you grabbed one end of me
and I grabbed the other
and we pulled until taut, until
I was enormous, stretched
and distorted
like a lost giant or
A firefighter's trampoline-

my highest purpose became
to break your fall

and so I did

and so I did

and so I did
the words are finally starting to come
Stu Harley Apr 2015
the cosmic world
is a
space and time
for the
exuberant Gods
to bounce
in and out of
other dimensions
space and time
It was with ice cold winds
that blew across their cheeks
that their bodies found the warmth in each other
to ignore the painful prickles
of goose bumps they felt
not knowing if it was because of the crispy air
or the touch of warmth
their hands imprinted on each other...

it was a night filled with hope, and stars and laughter
dark , yet filled with light...
on the trampoline in my backyard...
that was where it happened...

I was trying my way with the boy
that sat across from me...
they made it easy because they left us...
there on that trampoline they were lost somewhere deep in each others eyes
as I struggled to  maintain sane , alone, with that boy

I was growing jealous of their blossoming love
how fast did it grow to reach the height,
the height my heart has been struggling to achieve in years...
but I was happy... for them
they were happy...
they were...

then as if the cosmos played a little prank
on my little friends heart...
like the tower of babel...
their love reached the height where it crumbled,
and fell apart...
and those who built it was left
nothing but mere foreigners...
one was headed to sunny Florida,
he was okay...
the other one... my friend,
was headed to Linfen
without a way of communicating his pain
his loss
his ... love

today we sit and converse about the hope that may still remain
the revenge we may still take on the ruthless foreigner from Florida
and the other boy on the trampoline...
hoping that maybe...
if they ever decide to build a love of their own...
it will be corrupted by the pain they have caused,
from their pasts.

and we hope
Linfen – a city with no sunlight

The inhabitants of the Chinese industrial city of Linfen lead a dreadful life. This city is so covered with dust that it is always dark. The sun can not get through the thick layer of dust which creates 50 million of carbon a year. However, like in the case of Port Moresby, people live there because there have no other place to find a proper job. But each one of them hopes that in one moment they will manage to jump out from the darkness and start a normal life somewhere else.
Stu Harley Aug 2015
the soul of birds
shall dip
their wings
in the
holy light
Lottie Apr 2016
My body is at a desk,
While my mind is lain back
On my trampoline,
With the clear sky above me,
One night.
What a concept, a clear sky.
It means no clouds
But imagine,
If there was nothing up there
But black.
child-like thoughts run through my mind in between the thoughts of adulthood coming at me
and all i can think about is the children's code
an infinite amount of everything out of anything
substituting words to mean something else

tongue we would only know
i'm feeling my youth tonight
so sit back while i speak to you in code:

the thought of complete bliss will always be the year of 2008
filled with sunny summer days
vampire weekend
and not a care in the world
adulthood so far away
the whole WORLD in our hands and all the ambition at our fingertips
memories tap into my brain constantly
tap tap tap
dot dot dash
.. / -- .. ... ... / -.-- --- ..-

weekends filled with computer games
because that's what all the cool kids do right?
days of portal and nights of runescape

the sun is shining
we close the blinds to keep the glare away
we are chell

night time falls
creative gamertags emerge
we take on lumbridge together
mouthoil and lavenderbrwnie making their way

all on one screen of a complex calculator
binary running through it's circuits
01110111 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101001 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100111 01101111 00111111

symbols with a key
the easiest way to communicate on school grounds
passing notes
only we would understand

^(&$# RQH%QW%*D
E(H% R($T#% *%

I've seem to misplace the key
along with our time

almost 20
and our new method is a great one
so i'll give you something you're very good at breaking down:

it's raining harder in the backyard than the front
We both have that same feel
I don't even have to ask to know
but one day
the sun will come out
it'll be high noon
there will be sun and warmth all around the property
and we'll jump on the trampoline
tie dye some shirts
and talk in code once again

olive juice.

for a friend.
not the cleanest.
Alan McClure Jan 2011
The year the boys got their trampoline
All Dad got was a new shirt.
A nice one, mind - well made and warm.
He had it on as he put the trampoline together
(despite Mum's advice regarding working in new clothes)
and he was glad of its warmth as the boys
had their maiden bounce,
laughter making clouds
in the cold December air.

Tatty now, old and worn
in fifteen years that lasted a week, or less,
it's the same shirt keeping him warm
as he takes the trampoline apart
in the quiet, empty garden.
- From Also Available Free
blankpoems Mar 2015
they're saying "all you do is drink and cry", "I think you're bad for everyone" and you're not saying anything and I'm saying I love you,
I ******* love you
And maybe I needed something to bring me back to reality maybe these bathtubs are always a little too deep for me but I fit so perfectly in small spaces because I learned when I was 14 that i was never gonna grow into a butterfly
but my aunt still calls me hers and I'd still flutter my eyelashes on yours while the earth turned to ash because I like things ending so softly
and you are a ******* miracle if I've ever seen one I want to sleep with you so badly, on a trampoline in the summer and I want to watch you do bad things and smile so sweetly at you and you'll know that I don't give a **** what you do as long as you're still loving me while you're doing it because baby we've got this one life and I've been loving you as long as I have known what love is and I know it's in the way you whisper and I know it's in the way you say you're my world and if the world stopped turning tomorrow we'd be the only things still moving with excitement you make me so nervous and calm and nervous and calm and deep breath you make me nervous I bet you'll make me nervous when we're older and I'm making you pancakes and I feel your eyes on me and I burn my fingers but you always kiss them better baby
you're an alleyway and the kitten that sleeps there
you're the rain on the windowpane and the water breaking the levee
I'm drowning in everything I have ever said to you so if I say one last thing one last thing,
while you're not saying anything,
I love you,
I ******* love you

soaring up and down and


soaring misdirected

get me a shovel sweetheart
Olga Valerevna Dec 2013
Beneath her ****** purple eyes the bandages unwind
Reveal the fruit of every hit she's taken to her mind
A stripe away from damages that cannot be undone
She whispers in her timidness, you are the only one
The seeker floats around the words she speaks into the night
And she can feel a quiet breeze solidify their flight
I'll be there soon, I'll watch the moon, I'll travel back to you
The bruises heal and she appears, she finds him withered too
I've missed the conversations we have carried through the years
A hope, a light, dynamic sounds surrendering my ears
I want to bounce until the day we reach the second stair
Repel the dark and sorry things that tangle up your hair
And so the strands were compromised, she let the pieces fall
Upon the fringe of sacrifice she floated through the wall
"I believe in things you can't see."
Wuji Oct 2012
And I lay here looking at the sky,
Counting all the leaves that are prepared to die.
Yet they all stay up attached to their tree,
Helping it live on as they die from the disease,
Called Winter.

It's called Winter,
Freezes over the warmth.
It's called Winter,
Pauses back and forth.

And now you know you're trapped,
For nature's mid year nap.
Don't you love the taste of the sap,
As you fall down to your knees.

Until then I lay here.
Until then I will lie.
Waiting for the boss to come down,
And tells me that now is the time to die.

The birds are flying over head,
They make Vs in the sky.
Why not make tissues birds,
For all the ones who cry?

I wait here laying down,
Eyes upon the sky.
Waiting for that lucky bird,
To fall from reaching too high.

Or maybe he'll be alright,
Maybe he'll be just fine.
And just **** on me,
I pray that I am such a lucky guy.

Maybe the Winter will let me be,
Until then I look toward the sky.

Now it's getting dark,
Don't have a clue why,
But I see the bright lights over head,
Now I'm ready to die.
It was the first day of Jr. year and I just had to go home and be a kid.
David Jun 2013
Something about
That puffy, grey
Pulls me out
Until I spin
And jump
And shout
In the
Evening air
Something about
Those big, fat
Rain drops
Calls me to dance
Neath the soft, grey sky
Swathi eruvaram Nov 2015
Two petite boats made from an old piece of paper are ready to swim
You eagerly watch as I drift them in

Its raining, its pouring
Our boats are sailing
Tiny ripples make the water a trampoline
But the boats manage not to dive in

Aye aye I am the captain
Quit drowning yourself in
For my son loves to see you sail
And I would love to see him smile
Nameless May 2014
Hey my name is kelsie, my friends say I'm like a cat, I like cats .
I don't have any, I wish I did, ooh and I like food, and candy, I got my head stuck in a trampoline once between the two springs... oh I have ADHD, reminds me of ACDC, I love music like punk rock, screamo, metal, and old rock... I'm bored im a go find a cat.
Bye bye O.O^
Molly Apr 2014
When it has been five days since
anyone told you they loved you
and no one has held your
hand in four months
and you cannot remember the
last time you felt wanted,
remember this.

People aren't meant to say I love you.
Those three words mean
so many things but somehow
they mean nothing and eight
letters thrown together into
a combination of
lines and spaces is not an
accurate representation of feelings.

They say I love you
in the way they smile when
you laugh at their jokes and they
say it in the way they shake their head
when you make a bad pun and
they say it with every
text message in all-caps at
two twenty-four in the morning
because something incredible
just happened and they had to let you know
and they say it with every
hug and high-five and punch in the arm
and with the way your name
bounces off their tongue
like a child making poor judgement calls
on a trampoline and

they will not tell you happy birthday this year
and they will take four hours to
text you back because
they got distracted and they
will call you an *******
(because you are one, sometimes)
and eat all your lunch
without saying please or thank you
and they will
forget to tell you they love you
when they say good night,

because people are not meant to say *I love you.
For my friend, and anyone else feeling unwanted or underappreciated.
hannah Nov 2018
Come now, darling, take my hand
Alight the trampoline
We can do much more than bounce
That much you’ll come to see

We can lie down, side by side
Cool mesh against your face
Talk about life, love, and such
And dream of outer space

See the gleaming morning dew
Smell the morning air
Feel you lying next to me
Not sure if you’re aware

I like to be by your side
I love to see you smile
Lie with me on trampolines
Let’s stay here for a while
There's something inherently romantic about trampolines, is there not?
Rose Amberlyn Sep 2012
Memory is a beautiful thing.
Those warm summer mornings sitting on the front porch.
Jumping on Colton's trampoline in a frilled baby pink tu-tu.
Little white bows in my golden curls as I bounce,
grinning so wide,
in the rays of the Texas sun.
Trips to the lake in our old boat.
The water warm and glittering, calling me for a swim.
Tubing behind the Seaswirl with my baby brother,
giggling like little kids do.
My old cowgirl costume for Halloween.
Running from door to door with an old ragged filled pillowcase in hand.
Singing Hilary Duff in my 5th grade talent show.
Nervously shaking as I watch the smiling crowd in front of me.
My first crush sitting next to me in math class,
Mrs. Woo telling me to stop daydreaming.
Green eyes that stare back into mine, laughing, moving in front of me.
Adventures in Burbank with Megan.
Laughing so hard we fall to the sidewalk in front of a full Mexican restaurant.
My first boyfriend kissing me under an oak tree,
in McCambridge Park at sunset.
Here I sit now.
At my washed out desk in a new dorm,
in college.
My life will keep moving on,
and I have all these beautiful memories to fill it with.
My own personal home videos to dance through my head,
as I think,
as I dream,
as I film more to think back on in ten years.
Life is too beautiful to waste.
I thank God that I have been so blessed to be living.
Loving, laughing, singing, dancing, smiling
and holding on to this free spirit that possesses me and moves me.
Someday life will be but a wonderful memory.
I was friended on facebook by a stranger.
Usually this means I went somewhere and inspired someone with my
Personality or
Flirtation to look me up,
Or maybe a friend, of a friend, of a friend, thinks I'm cute and
Stalked my profile.
Maybe, I'm just an attempt at a ******* to this person.
Which I'm normally super okay with,
But here's the thing.
It was a man.
Now, this is not an issue to me, specifically.
I am in fact bisexual, but that's more of a title,
I mean, I've never been
Penetrated, by a man before.
N-not that I wouldn't be.
But we don't call virgins asexual because they haven't had *** yet so,
I just say bi.
Anyway, this man starts the conversation: "hello! with a smiley face."

I over analyze this: "hello! with a smiley face."
What does it mean?!
I stalk his profile.
Is he cute? Not really, but he isn't ugly.
I've never been attracted to men physically anyway it's always the
Or icy blue eyes that pull me in.
And this man wears drag and rocks it so I will probably like him.
I don't know why, but I have a thing for lesbians and
Lesbian like things. It's really....
We have a little conversation and It's fairly innocent
Until he hits me with this line:
"Pretty boys down on their luck, is a sight I am unable to stand."

There it is!
I knew it!
This man is flirting with me!
I could smell it from a mile away.
I know this game.
I've been on
His side of this conversation a million times.
But, i've never known what it feels like to be here.
In this weird space, on the other side.
Getting complimented.
I never get complimented!
At most I get a half-hearted handsome after I
Confess my addiction to a woman's beauty.
Never, am I put on such a pedestal.
I mean, this stranger clearly wants their ***** inside of me.
I can think of no higher compliment.

Things escalate very quickly. Too quickly.

"I have a big bed, and I'm ready for a night of boys, *****, and another B word."

I, an idiot, honestly can't think of the third b word.
"Uh... bacon?

"No sweetie, *******."

What did i get myself into? I had
Absolutely no intention of seeing this guy
EVER and now he thinks I want to come over

How did I get myself into this?
What did I say?
What possibly could have made him think i was interested?
Is it just because I haven't bluntly said no?
I scroll up and search for an answer.

"You're pretty cute yourself."

Yup, that'll do it.

He says:
"Mmmmnfff, You're adorable"

These compliments though! I get
Tingles every time he says something like that to me.
It's so nice that it's entirely worth just
Dealing with the creepiness to hear it.

And then I realized....
That this is what it feels like.
This is how woman feel when we ask to
**** before getting to know them.
It's dangerous.
Like jumping off a cliff and hoping for a trampoline.
It's almost, always,

He says:
"Are you familiar with what consent is? because
I've had issues with that."
"Are you going to be one of those straight boys who are just
Wasting my time?
I hate having my time wasted."

I, realizing now what I'd gotten myself into, say:
"As a matter of fact, I am...
Sorry to have wasted your time, but at least I told you now.
A lot of girls don't"
Petal pie Apr 2014
Looks I was given, words received
Sunk in deep
I felt as much use as a chocolate teapot
As resilient as a glass hammer
Looking much like a dogs dinner
As fragrant as a refuse truck.
Insightful as a blind guide dog
Buoyant as a lead balloon
I sank deep

My bounce lost,
like a concrete trampoline
Lost my grip
like a fumbling toothless vampire bat
Feeling as welcome
as a fur coat worn
In a vegan cafe.

Now resurfacing
I know that there's no use
in contriving to feel bad.
I'm going to either
line my chocolate teapot
to make it work
or savour every bite of it!
Jack Piatt Nov 2011
We are surrounded by silliness.
Don't make it obvious, but look over your left shoulder.
There, not feet from your face sits silliness.
Something silly breeding and FedExing its brood
to the best and brightest corners of the earth,
ensuring equal part shadow for every ray of shine.
If you find yourself disbelieving, please turn on your Television set
and flip (at your own risk) through the charmless channels
hovering enigmatically inside Mr. Pixel the “Babysitter.”
“Reality” shows, as if we weren't neck deep in enough reality
for a thousand years worth of open bars,
lamenting on how seriously, serious this soiree of sorts seems to be,
neighbored by celebrity rehab shows,
housewives from all over the country
desperately seeking attention
and augmentation
or attention to their various augmentations,
  divorce courts with quirky judges,
pawn shops in the ghetto with true grit, or is it true **** …
hard to say but they have attitude!
The endless scripts pour into HollyWeird from somewhere far, far away
from anything vaguely resembling reality …
a little place called – the Jersey Shore.
(Wait did he say scripts?) But ...

Ah, hell, it needs no description or justification,
in the land of the Super Silly,
it is the trophy wife of King Silly Bo Billy himself.
And no more time to waste on silliness wrapped neatly in a magic tube.
No, no, silliness is loose, running amok through the streets,
jumping with it's eyes closed on your neighbor Ricky's industrial size trampoline.
(Ricky only lost one of his nine children  last year to “roof to trampoline” diving)
tragic, yet the other eight get a little more tuna casserole on Wednesdays.
Silliness is fearless. It charges helmet-less into oncoming traffic
singing Christmas jingles in Latin,  
mid-February with no regard to Lincoln
or the people he is said to have helped liberate.
It defies logic, gravity, good intention or worst (best) of all – common sense.
You will find it in every church no matter the dogma.
Every court room, police station, financial institution, school, university,
tall building with more glass than steel …
yes, silliness grows there like mold in a dingy basement
overpopulated with sprickets.

Silliness is a disease.

Not to be confused with silly smiles and clowns at the circus.
This is not the silliness of your youth, but the silliness of adults
who have sold their love of the moment
and lust for life for the deadly elixir of conformity.
Conditioned by an unrelenting tidal wave of negative energy
and condemnation, they sign their death certificates long before they die.
Dreams and happiness are replaced with life insurance policies,
401k's and 403b's. In this lies the silliness.
As the masses line up one by one at the top of the cliff
and follow in suit as the jumping begins.
Into the abyss they leap, medical and dental plan in one hand
and neatly mowed lawn in the other.
As the happy children play to their parents dismay,
the merry-go-round spins blissfully around
as daddy slowly drowns.
imagine a big dragon
Are you doing it?


what color is it?

"b-blue and yellow"

Blue and yellow. Cute! Isss it big as godzilla?

"no, it's smaller
likee the size of a horse"

Dats a smol dragon
I like him.

"its not smallllllllllll
a smol dragon would be like, a neck dragon
hes big, just not hugeeeeeee"

Ohhhh okay. He's a big dragon, but not huge.
His teeth are like little point pearls
do you see how shiny they are?
and pink

"why are his teeth pink"

They are pearls.

"but pearls are white"

then his toofers are white.

good hygeine"

One of those pearls in his dragon maw
his little baby toofeers
thats you


because than you can fly with him everywhere.
Just imagine looking down through his mouth at the cityyy
as he flyyyys
and sitting all nestled in his lip
Blue and yellow leather
He could sing you storiessss and brushes his toofers so his breath would be warm but not stinky

awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwhhhh­hhhhh :3"

"My small tenant" He says to you.
as you crawl out of his gum and walk out onto his tongue.

What is your dragon houses name?

"his name is roxy"

He's making a very silly face, sticking his tongue out and crossing his eyes to talk to you
he sounds silly too
talking with his tongue out
"Welcome Home. "

"i loveeeeee"

Roxy the Blue and yellow Horse sized Dragon House.
"Ready to slide?"
he asks you


he swallows you
it's very slippery and fun!
like a water slide
And is warm, but not smelly becaus he brushes his teeth
you fly over muscles and liquids and tongue and land on a biiiig trampoline
You can hear Roxy from all around you, quite loud "Having fun, my tennant?"
You are the small size, or a dragons tooth.

"good :3"

"uh oh!" He cries
you see fire from his back
it's zooming towards you!

"nooooooooooo run awaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyy"

You run up towards his tongue and trip into the sticky icky
The fire is warm and tingles oup your back
then is over
and you standup, the back of your clothes all burnt off and your front all sticky icky
"I'm sorry, tennant"
"I sneezed"

"its oki roxy."

Roxy fashions their tongue like a staircase for you to come back outside

"daddy? Im sleepy... Can we finish the story tomorrow night?"

me too Babygurl. ^^
Yes we can


Good night

"ninighht daddy. sleeeepppppp well.
i love you"

I love you too baby girl ^^
Sweet dreams.

You curl up in roxys empty tooth spot, he covers you in his blanket tongue. it is warm. but not stinky. and you drift soft to sleep
"Good night, Tenant"
"I love you"

"i love you ttooo roxy."
Usurp from quite possibly, the most Adoreable FB Chat
Lottie Apr 2015
We were sat down.
You tickled my foot.
I almost kicked you
in the face,
And instead got you
I'm the nuts.

Not my best I grant you but was entertaining at the time:3
Sag Apr 2015
I jumped on a trampoline with my sister for the first time today since I was a girl.
It was a strange feeling.
We were closer for an instant
like we were girls again
like each jump towards the sun lightened us
like gravity loosened up a bit
like he laughed
and oh we laughed and laughed and laughed and LAUGHED
the sun wasn't quite ready to set and the leaves were emerald like her birthstone and her hair was long again
and her heart soft and her smile not straight
her fiance looked like Tarzan, the young cartoon one.

i think i know that she's right to marry him
because he felt right on that trampoline
with us girls
like he belonged
like he was always a part of our childhood

i think that's how you know you've found "the one"
when even the memories they weren't apart of
feel like they were experienced together
when you can't remember what it was like without them
when memories of moments in their absence cease to exist

I have a hard time remembering my own childhood.
I wonder what that means...
It was a Wednesday,
the postman in glorious blue,
a horrific thin letter
in your mailbox.

Across the street
the plump woman watched,
you tore it open,
birthday present in June.

Rejections, maybe.
But no. Instead
black words
said something other.

Happiness crashed upon you,
jumping up, up and down
as if on a trampoline,
a fire, smothering the dark.

You called it a creative wave,
rising, frothing wildly
and falling again.
Written: May 2013.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time and another possible inclusion to my third year university dissertation about Hughes and Plath. On Wednesday 25th June 1958, SP received a letter informing her two of her poems would be published in The New Yorker.
vircapio gale Jul 2012
phyllo dough considerations
veil the rigid silence
under quip, under smile-
covered cliche cud.
it is in essence meaningless,
this large party,
this braying urgency of guests

the house swims with life,
we mingle charismatic coughs
as talents strut; bouncing fruit
and swaying surface tension fizz
sparkles off the balcony of floating drinks

our tall pines are echoing beyond the yard
a sylvan soft allure of
living soundboard drape,
it needles aromatic carpet for a
*******, brink-of-dawn escape

allocate the living and the dead,
the borderline is begging to be tread.

an elastic belt extends the real,
a tool for party tricks, a tool for bending time--
i'm bounding off into the darkness
balling lightning in my dantien,
the world a trampoline;
running full i top the rail of gasps,
swinging through the arc
of thinning line to pull me back around,
stomach churning fiction-sick
with gravity inverted joltingly,
umbilically, aware.

then she has a turn as i,
as being me, and as i (as I)
careen away, the vaster leap
of single body, double mind-
it pulls beyond substantial thought

our uber-jumprope dangles
while we speed above the trees -- all is dark
excluding speckled stars
and the one, shrinking party-glow i lose below

the television orbits,
wobbles in a superstrings' embrace
all balance lost --
we're floating in a spin alone
unfocused universal locus..
stars diminishing reliquish cosmic depth
and nourish life in death

reeling eyes of weightless ******
squint to spacetime surgings
inward of the who i am--
plasticity-encasing glass of box
to offer all subverse companionship.
i tug the corded fabric
fronting interweaving screen
of futile marking where
i've riveted, lost, gazing
psychosoma scene
a modern mind-toy posted
to enframe another me we are,
even here with outside sight of world
vacuum up and lower heading
compass only gulping awe,
the breath is gone, a stinging heart
revalves its pacing flow
descending cosmogonic thread

allocate the living and the dead,
the borderline is begging to be tread.

i imagine trees again,
branches soft,
trunks my guideposts to the ground i've lost~
i'm mingling against my sense of real again,
packing leftovers, living social lies unknown.
a man compliments his speech
as "Bristling with business."
the jelly seeps beyond the pita's edge,
the pita slides out from under foil.
the party swivles on its axis,
the clowns play on, noble chefs
laughing in their pots
while i visit drooping psyche forms,
around and through glass doors,
crystal tables -- a furniture of ideal norms
to overturn. ah. i'm found again,
a bit less vast among a crowd
of nescient lives unlived. i'm
found undiscovered open all,
plainly lacking truth as well,
i'm me, this other presence,
this shifting sight,
flood experiential zoo,
this empty vessel holding two
a social fissure prying sense of self
from up a wild void..
Lucy Tonic Jun 2012
Handicap suburban hippies
Cruising like hyenas
Trampoline ******
****** tissues in ashtrays
Natural born riders
Liquid courage makes little peanuts
Alien Nation
Infomercials on mute
Strange thugs and dark markets
Needles and pixie sticks
Under the manmade weather
New types of bullet holes
Slaying the jabberwocky in
The new Transylvania
The Yes monster
Cranium stadium
Swords and roses
Barren space
Insolent minx
Holidays gone bad
Continental drift
annie Mar 2014
you touched me.
we came from tupperware and 2 to 3 sets of silverware.
with it i gave worms a home and with you i made fig jam and we put it in a mason jar.
i stared at my milk at your dinner table the way one stares at a speck in the gravel when one tries to balance on one foot,
to help from embarrassing myself in front of your older brother.
i loved him like my own; i loved you like any soul-searching, trampoline-jumping munchkin loves their best friend-
you touched me
as if i could just list off memories and believe that it compensates for our loss
and now i can't do anything more than to brush it off like life,
but that in and of itself makes me want to *****.
from tupperware, from textbooks...
to an eternity of unknown nothings and everythings,
you touched me and though i want to believe i've been through it,
though i say i've been through the dinner party irony of havoc, through the tupperware dilemma of sorts,
what faults in this life have i missed,
to help me understand what brought you to jump,
my trampoline companion with a curiosity and endless potential,
with textbooks and tupperware in hand?
PJ Oct 2013
Twilight laughter from two children
Jumping on a trampoline, kissing because
That's what they were taught to do
And he grabs her hand and hushes her
Twilight kisses into the house,
Up the stairs with the door
Closed behind them
And she has a shy smile while
He can't stop looking at the floor
But these twilight children make sure they are
Quiet, mimicking their parents because
His father is sleeping downstairs
So they kiss off their clothing,
Pretending they don't want their
Twilight innocence, eager to
Experience something new, telling themselves
They are all grown up
But they are wrong because
When she goes out to dinner she still
Begs for dessert, and he
Refuses to sleep without a light on, awaken by
Nightmares of the future

But the twilight laughter is stolen and replaced with
Midnight panting in a hurry to
Grow up, giving up innocent youth
In an attempt to love, and that is one exchange
You can never reverse, and that is
A mistake we're all guilty of

I miss my twilight laughter

— The End —