"wishbone" poems
The nakedness of winter lies heavy upon
the tolling Sunday quietude
Shed leaves perish into yesterday
and the dream of another
dawning someday wanes
The sun ― lay low
the drudging ashen skyline
Barerd emerald moss scaffolds
draw much more distantness
to the pallid shadowed horizon
The evergreens step forth,
roots grasping sacred heart,
soil and rock
In the swelling aloneness
you can feel the grain
of the heartwood
rooted in your soul
There are no hard feelings
but there's an enduring ache,
like a tree with a rotting limb
languishing within
its blackened bark sacrifice
It's not just the grinding time
that slips away begrudgingly;
more of the same takes a toll
as if another unrung belfry hour
in an empty bell tower
without a song rang out in vain,
peeling reflections
of reluctant hours c r a w l by
in the insensible apathy
A so called holiday passes ―
its footprint bears down
hard and deep
as if a paling winter rose
grieves its own passing
A dry wishbone unbroken
lay bare the poignant
truth it holds;
it takes two to make
this wish come true
.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 12:33 PM UTC
i would say i fell for you
just like a child
but i fell for you harder than that
i fell for you just like
an embryo may fall for
the hope that he'll be born
only to be aborted way too soon.
you were every inch of my hope
of being alive. you were darkness
but only darkness refined
you were the nights we took
acid in venice beach
looking for real excuses to be high
we found oceans of friends
flooding waves of laughter,
i remember clinging to your chest
your pale face lit by neon diner windows
looking up into the sparkle of your
(god i swear they were) silver eyes
and getting caught in the under toe.
you left me flat,
gave me a vow and went on home.
you broke my heart like a wishbone.
i suffer still from scars
three years on..
and i can't even
remember your name,
Scorpio.
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 9:57 PM UTC
i dream of silk and black lipstick, leather and ice-burn
i fashion thoughts into clouds of smoke i ghost out of my mouth
into necklaces i will only ever give to you; you
are burnt russet bitten lip bleached bone coalesced into
constellation; you burn brighter
than any constellation i have ever breathed
i dream of your hipbones; stretch marks flicking over them
like lightning glimpsed between fingers; like wishbones silently pulled apart
in promise; you are wishbone you are gold plate you are sunshine
through a stained-glass window; my heart is glass
a cemetery to your footprints a cathedral to your broken
dreams; i can taste the honey in your scattered thoughts
like a prayer on my tongue
i dream of deep purple and yellow and green and
black and fading bruise and blood
at the corner of your lip; i can taste iron in your breath
rotting in my dreams slow-burning ice in my veins; vengeance
is a dish best served cold i know
that if i unfurl my skeleton and tuck you into the spaces between my
ribcage and my lungs you will taste just as sweet
i dream of ruby emerald sapphire in brooches pinned onto black i
think of the bruise-giver of the blood-spiller of cracks in my
ribcage of wishbones of constellations of iron-taste of ice-burn of you of you of you
and i let you in
and i am cathedral i am cemetery i am bonfire i am in l o v e
with constellation
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 10:30 AM UTC
I wished on a shooting star
I wished on the first star I saw in the night
I wished on an eyelash to find a true love
I wished on the candles on my birthday cake
I wished on the penny I threw in the well
I wished on a wishbone breaking it in two
I wished on a dandelion blowing seeds into the air
I wished on a ladybug to grant me good luck
I wished our love would come true
I wished you knew of my love for you
I wished that I knew… you were wishing for me too
I wished
I wished
I wished
I wished until there were no wishes left
**** Where’s that Genie when you need him?)
Mar 29, 2018
Mar 29, 2018 at 1:19 AM UTC
Her eyes are sinkholes in a quiet, sleeping state
and I was a girl, lost and misplaced at twenty-one,
looking for love in infinitesimal spaces:
on her palm creases and chipped, ruby nails,
and in the blown-out ends of her lotus tattoo
I find myself tracing a secret,
at the spiked tips of her hair tamed by fairy lights
and on the slits of her skin — a rabbit hole of wonders,
I always fall like Alice in sworn careful tiptoes
and crash headfirst; a broken wishbone, a tainted wish
some habits you just can't quit.
like —
October and her obsidian eyes, and the sunless ways we kissed —
being lost and misplaced made sense for a while in the detached comfort
of her cold bed, colder hands,
warmth has become an oppression.
But this dalliance has always been a disaster waiting to happen
and I am a paramour, a memory, a face in the crowd
swallowed in a seismic fall —
and losing October has always been a disaster waiting to happen —
this bed, always a site of a losing battle
and I find myself in a soiled, torn dress,
lying helpless on the other side of her war.
Tonight, I light myself a candle;
maybe one day, I'll finally learn to run away from a girl made of disasters
and not towards her.
Oct 16, 2022
Oct 16, 2022 at 1:39 AM UTC
Don't have a wishbone
Where your backbone ought to be,
They told me, so often.
See, wishbones are meant
For Thanksgiving dinners where
Two children break it
In half to see who
Gets the first turkey leg,
or something like that.
See, wishbones aren't strong.
They aren't reliable, strong
Enough to support you
When what you ought to
Do doesn't comply with what you
So dearly wish for.
If you lack backbones,
And have a wishbone for a
Spine instead, you should
Get to breaking that
wishbone right out of your mind
And body because
At the end of the day,
A backbone is all you have
When wishes aren't your
Reality. No,
A backbone will keep you up
Whereas a wishbone
Will break easily,
As easily as your heart
Will when your wishes
Do not come true. A
Backbone is something you ought
To have instead dear.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 11:44 PM UTC
we broke the wishbone
you got the wish
i got a splinter
that's how it goes
fare faced grinning fool
oh, how easy it'd be
for me to be jealous of you, brother
the boy who couldn't be stopped
the man that the wind whispers to
you are magic
you are busy lights on an empty stretch of I80
the swell of drum beats over silence
the giggle-fit tear stains on the universe's cheek
baby boy
wide eyed man-cub
the world tried to steal you
once
all those years ago
and you
you defiant son-of-a-gun
refused to bow to even death
the laugh lines at the end of a blank heart rate
thanks for never leaving me behind
you take nothing seriously
except dreams and funerals
and the call of the moon
"no matter where you are in life
no matter how noisy it gets
or how badly it hurts
you have to throw on the brakes now and then
just slow down
and turn your eyes to the sky
and howl
like a ravid coyote
howl at the moon"
"remind existence that you won't go quietly"
when i was six
dad told me that he and mom
had made us out of stardust
and magic
and beer caps
and fossils
that they made us out of treasure
you're my treasure
and the temple of my dreams
you're my map
my back pack
my adventure hat
and the voice in my head that laughs
and calls me a dumb ***
we are not human beings on a spiritual endeavor
but spiritual beings
bound to a human medium
how very thankful i am to be tethered to you
Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 10:41 AM UTC
If I were to say;
the devil & god both
rage within,
I would render myself
dishonest.
For despite blind faith
you have never heard
me surrender,
to the devil or god.
The agnostic in me
did surrender, to a name
still unknown.
An internal war
battles of wills I so fought
pleading & praying;
*save me from what I have
so become.*
A war rages within
thirsty blood red, slaughter
a house for the dead.
I fall at your feet, lick the blood
splashed & spilled;
a slaughterhouse will never
be a clean resting place.
I kneel; genuflect
at the
shrine of gods
& monsters.
I whisper;
*What will be?
What will become of me?*
Laughing, spitting,
in the face of anguished despair.
A war rages within.
Nor devil nor god may see,
I am yours for slaughter,
surrendered for you
in this wasteland
my mind created when
you
were first
gone.
© Sia Jane
"I’ll be your
slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this
bullet inside me."
Wishbone by Richard Siken
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC
I need a wishbone or a loophole
sick of you and this old soup bowl
I thought this plague would fade away
I thought your chest was my favourite place
tarot cards led me astray, I guess
I try to never compress, I try to focus on my dress
a ring that makes me smile or a vibrant hue
anything to forget about you
how about when you made butterflies erupt in my stomach
how about when you made me think I knew what love is
floating on the shipwreck waiting to be brought to shore
these moments allowed me to process and plan
for my next project, my next attack
you thought you could beat me down
think again
Apr 15, 2022
Apr 15, 2022 at 5:15 PM UTC
I’ll shatter another wishbone
If it means you’ll answer the phone
I’ll scour for pennies on this deserted street
If I’ll be lucky enough for us to meet
I’ll stay up all night gazing for a shooting star
If I can rest my feet on the dash of your car
I’ll pluck every eyelash from my eyes
If it means I can wish away all the lies
But the dandelions won’t work
You’re throat is sealed with a cork
I’ll still wish for one more kiss
Don’t you see? It’s you I miss.
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 1:44 PM UTC
Cooking up a blizzard.
Lost and unguided tendrils of space hold me captive,
the trebles of your heart beating
leads me back to my my Home.
That infinite gaze of yours into my dilapidated eyes,
is like a portal to you to look into my soul.
You blanket all my darkness
With your semi-pixie cut.
You’re my tree of knowledge
I bask in it’s shade.
Powdered Sugar coating on cupcakes.
Your silk armour protects your vulnerability,
My sincere apologies to all the arrows that gaped through.
Cover me under your angel wings,
Dab away my streaming reservoirs and replace them
with pollen and sweet nectar.
Your wishbone sacramental daydreams and dreams.
I feel so lost without you.
Bandage my old wounds with your tender hands,
Kiss me with your lush lips
sending jolts of star dust upstream,
within my veins dancing with yours palpitating feet.
My shot of euphoria and bleeding antidote.
My poetry.
You, Kalon.
Let’s raise a toast to your
beauté remarquable éternel, mon soleil
your free spirit,
your beauty of a ghost,
your heart racing with joy,
your heart steaming up with reticent sadness,
build up anger that come crashing down
like a typhoon detaching from the human perspecta.
I miss you.
Your emotional mess and literal mess,
I’m your magic broom.
You, my inspiration.
You, my groove.
You, my you.
You. My everyone and everything.
You’re fun filled supressed omnipresent electric feel.
You, The only Solis in my galaxy.
I love you.
Sharing your grandoise orangy tinge yellow light.
Bottling up a few star
in a bottle of red wine,
For her Luna.
Solis is 21 a (000,000,000) today.
You’re irreplacable.
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
Torsos in windows,
dark shadows,
whispered laughter,
and a wishbone stick.
Sickly, spider trees
rustle in the night breeze
lightly.
Streetlight beams find me.
Nose growing cold.
Walking from home
all alone.
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
I wish for happiness.
I wish for peace.
I wish for love.
I wish for good health.
I wish for success.
I wish for a raise.
I wish for career.
I wish for school.
I wish for trust.
I wish for marriage.
I wish for children (someday).
I wish for...
.....
Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 8:03 PM UTC
The doorknob to the closet
full of my skeletons is made of
funny-bone
But there are days
when honesty tugs a little too roughly and
I realize this isn't all that funny now
Is it?
As a writer
You learn presentation is key
In the bend of language
I create this man
I want you to believe me to be
And so I tell you these stories
like they are jokes
Like they are no big deal
Like the first time I got drunk
was with my friend's mom
who was a known child molester
She tried to order us ****
But couldn't work the cable
Or my friends and I used to travel our city
via the water drainage system
Near the mall
We got lost once
and while standing
in ankle high water
we saw at least 20 homeless people
sleeping on pallets
We called that place *** City
We had to get directions back out
There's a possibilty I have been an accessory to ******
Around the time in my life when I learned
How not to dwell
My body was a wishbone
My father meant to break
But every beating
left me the better half
I find so much of it funny
My brother's most recent suicide attempt
My mother's
My father's Alzheimer's
He once chased after our mailman
naked
Asking him about some letter
from some woman
I have never met before
I find laughter
and beauty
in the bend of language
When this chest becomes a broken radiator
and my heart grows cold
The metaphor mutates Campfire
Come here
I am lonely
and I have a story to tell you
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 5:24 AM UTC
12/9/2018
Blow a dandelion
Scattered wishes
Weedkiller breathes death upon their hopes
Wish upon
A shooting star
Destroyed debris grants nothing
Pennies in wells
Change for a wish
Leftover change in an empty case
Rabbits foot
On a chain
Hopping stops a hoping dream
Four leaf clover
Picking flowers
Wishing on the dead weeds kills
Wishbone breaking
A wish come true
One is left with a broken heart
Birthday candles
Blow, make a wish now
Burning reflections in teary eyes
A hopeless sky
Ignorant innocence
Children’s wishes turn to dust
A hopeful fairytale
Told stories of love
A broken heart reveals the truth
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 12:08 PM UTC
She's on the couch with her eyes open lips open legs open
She just kinda appeared
That's what we want of course
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
She stopped eating until she was nothing but right angles and sharp edges. It was if she couldn’t understand the math of the world she lived in, so she sought the neat geometry of the curve of her hollowed hips, the bend of her wishbone elbow, and the measurements of her rag doll ankles.
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
I wasted my words
I wasted your ears
I wasted my time
learning all your likes and fears
I've wasted some sunrises
and
I've wasted some sunsets
and
If I could drink them
I'd get wasted
on my own regrets
I wasted your soft skin
you wasted my touch
but I guess to you
it doesn't matter too much
Because you're on
to the next one,
and I'm left right here
thinking thoughts full of sorrow
and sharing them with my beer
I wasted your glistening body
I wasted your ***
In my head I was wasted
about the future,
like a house with a yard
and just two pets.
I wasted your lips
you wasted your lies
but I don't wish you harm
or hope that
anyone in your family
dies
No, if I find a wishbone
this one thing I'll truly wish
that the next guy you ****
has something
very itchy
on his ****
Oct 16, 2011
Oct 16, 2011 at 7:06 AM UTC
I’m choking on a fistfull of bones. There’s a skull
hidden deep in the back of my closet,
maybe in the abyss beneath my mattress,
maybe lodged somewhere behind my bookshelf,
that reads aloud all my past regrets
like bedtime stories.
I found the dried up teeth of my grandmother
on my vanity and used them like dice.
There’s a rib from my great aunt that I use
as a clothes hanger dangling on a hook in my bathroom.
When I was little the playset in my backyard
looked like tomorrow,
but weathered down and rusted, it looks
like a mausoleum.
There is a lock of hair on my bedside table that
is not mine, but hers, and I can’t help but
wonder if she wants it back. Does she want it back?
There’s nine-year-old smoke in my lungs and
five-year-old iron around my heart.
There’s a wishbone branded to my liver
to signify the what if? and a
skull branded onto my chest to
signify the what is.
I learned not to trust so fully the first time I
nearly drown and how to be independent the
first time I learned to swim.
I used to want to be a “daddy’s girl” until I
realized what that meant. The roses he gave me
for graduation went headfirst into the trash.
I have many things left unsaid.
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
"What does the wishbone tattoo signify?"
Depends who's asking.
If I like you it's because not all things that are broken are bad.
If I don't then it's because I needed more luck.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 5:54 PM UTC
the season has begun
and tonight was oh so fun
it was the first dinner of many
we had turkey a plenty
yet there was only one lone
wishbone.
i knew right then and there
and maybe it wasn't fair,
that i had to be the one to break
i had to be the one to make
a wish and hope for it to
come true.
so i grabbed one end
and it started to bend,
i couldn't believe my eyes
when in my hand was the bigger size
which means my wish about you
will possibly come true.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 11:39 PM UTC
1
I remember her body against me
She tells me she doesn't want to get hurt
That I will break her heart
You can break me like a wishbone
and keep the better half
Sharpen it like a prison shiv
and stab me with it if I do
2
She is the snow
I am a stove in a single room cabin
I have been cutting off parts of this home
and feeding them into my belly
There is sawdust
on the floor of my love
3
Most of this house is gone now
I am still a stove
she is still snow
We both think
this heat is a good idea
I keep burning
Call her iglu
Call her daring
Call me almost homeless
4
I have left the stove
I am a candle now
Slow burning
Call me always hot still
Call her always melting
The floor is always wet
5
I tried to trap the ocean
in a dresser drawer
But we were flooded roofless
I learned to hold my breath
She learned that warmth doesn't really change anything
There was the sun
and it heated her body
I bathed in the ocean
she made
a thin
near burnt candle
I sank down
Her heart was made of winning halves of wishbones
Sharpened like shivs
I did not go near them
I am not afraid of getting hurt
But I have always been taught
to respect the sea
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 5:13 PM UTC
Peaches and cream,
That’s what you are to me
Flowers in a stream.
Red and gold sunsets
Just like in a dream.
Cotton candy days
That’s what I have with you
A honey scented haze.
Two people matched in
Ever after ways.
It sometimes seems we
Are floating on a cloud.
It makes someone like me
Want to shout out loud.
I am so lucky,
It makes me want to sing.
I am that wealthy
That I have everything.
Peaches and cream,
It’s like a fairy tale
Just the way it seems.
But I won’t wake up
As this is not a dream.
This is a moment
Like I once wished upon.
A busted wishbone
And all my sadness gone.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 11:04 PM UTC
You ask me what I'd wish for if
I knew it would come true. I knew
it was true: you left me
to sleep out in the cold, dawn
hours and half a globe away.
If it meant I would receive frostbite,
shiver uncontrollably and turn cyanotic,
suffer hypothermia underneath the window
with the blinds closed and you
behind them shedding tears I cannot catch,
I would suffer. I did.
It reminded me of the Thanksgiving
my uncle had me grab the prong of a wishbone,
my best friend on the other side.
We made a wish and the horseshoe of ivory
cracked, and splintered into two pieces.
He got the larger half. I still kept my wish
hidden, hoping, that one day I'd meet you.
I would suckle the sorrow from your fingers,
wipe the tears and mascara with my cheek,
and croon to you I will change. I can change.
But, I must do that; and not for you.
Our love is like that wishbone. Every time
it breaks, we wish but do not work to see it through.
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC