"unkissable" poems
one two three four five
here it comes again
one two three four five
but why is she surprised
one two three four five
(they said the counting would help)
one two three four five
“look in the mirror”
one two three four five
“tree trunk thighs / stomach expanding like the universe”
one two three four five
outside doesn’t matter (they said)
one two three four five
“eyes too wide / nose too long / lips don’t close”
one two three
so she can’t stop the words pouring out in heart-piercing whispers
one two
“ugly / unlovable / unkissable / unfriendable”
one
maybe one day she’d pour enough ugly out to be size
zero
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 10:04 AM UTC
to a baby’s swing
or to a fine horse
with one
good
ear
or to the weary
haymakers
that are now
my mother’s
unkissable
arms
my father
his head full
of hot soup
but not a minnow
burned
recites
the toy
gospel
as I begin
to take
my intelligence
personally
here among
the floored laundry, the raised unawareness
of the powerless mad
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 3:52 PM UTC
but a kiss would taste,
sweet lips and loving touches...
A kiss was refused
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
Tell me again about how the caterpillars in your stomach metamorphosed into butterflies that fluttered around when frankie walked through the door.
Leave out the part about the butterflies' stagnation,
how eventually they reverted back to caterpillars and mistook your insides for leaves;
because we can't stay in another day just listening to Au Revoir Simone with that same story rolling off your tongue.
darling, it is starting to leave unkissable burns on your mouth.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
the fragile boy shepherds his pulse
among bigger bodies and into
the bruise and into the bruise’s
unkissable bone, that grey
area where holstered
his invisible gun dispenses
with metaphor and metaphors from
a pep rally
held in theory
in a stranger’s garage
where his brother’s
accidental birth
expired in his brother
who himself
was part bruise
part cream
added to the bruise
by a father whose lightning
stormed
from the hip of god
during a dream
had by a full
gallon of milk
mother held steady
for hours, back to back,
above the form
of it unstirred
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 8:42 PM UTC
Do you remember the day you didn't
kiss me? And I smoked another joint
and coughed. And you rolled a spliff
and the words we were so terrible at
speaking came strolling off our tongues
like the innocent sunrise we ignored come
up out the window above as the
morning brought us sleep. You
brought me coffee and smoked cigarettes
in bed. I read my book and played with
your hair. There were no reasons
to hurry but an unkissable love
for words, cigarettes,
and words.
Sep 9, 2013
Sep 9, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
She no longer wonders
What her husband Brian
Is doing or where he
Goes or if he misses
Her; she has Una now
All to herself, no more
Sharing her *** life with
Brian and his quick fix
*** and his annoying
Sleeping afterwards sad
Routine. The last time she
Met him for a talk and
Tea to discuss their plans
For divorce, he sat there
Moodily smoking and
Stirring his tea with the
Spoon provided in the
Café and gazing out
The window at the rain
Running quickly down the
Windowpane. On what grounds?
He’d asked looking into
Her eyes, the lips she once
Kissed, unkissable now,
The dull wateriness
Hanging in there in his
Big blue eyes. Grounds? I’m in
Love with a woman and
******* her to heaven
And back, she’d replied, her
Voice carrying over
To other tables where
Old couples sat and who
Stared back at her softly
Tut-tutting. After a
Few meetings and him then
Knowing that she’d not be
Coming back home to him,
The road to a divorce
Was agreed and he sat
Back in the chair in the
Café with that sad eyed
Puppy kind of stare. Hope
She burns in hell, he’d said
Bitterly, maybe then
You’d come back home to me,
Nuala, and forget
This folly of *******
Women. Now she sits still
Beside Una on their
Shared big bed, feeling the
Closeness of her flesh, the
Warmth, the smell, the love shared,
The sense of fulfilment
After a good seeing
To. Dublin was all right,
But she wanted to go
Further south, away from
People who might know her,
People who pointed and
Gestured and muttered words
Behind their hands in shops
And stores. Una kisses
Her cheek, the lips wet and
Warm, her hand rubbing her
Thigh, the memory of
Brian healing over,
His image like a scab
She seldom picks at or
Touches. As she kisses
Una’s arm she senses
All her flesh tingle, as
If set to wires of
Electricity, as
If kissed by angels, touched
By God, seeing heaven
Through parted clouds, and the
Memory of Brian’s
Last pathetic **** fades
Like melting snow, with this
Deep nowness of love for
Una, brave new world, this
Inner fire and glow.
(2010 POEM.)
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 11:19 AM UTC
I am unkissable
I am unreachable
I am semi-innocent
I am under pressure
I have an impassioned mind
I need to be taken in hand
I need to love soberly
Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 8:04 AM UTC