You can’t kill somebody with a hammer
Hammers are messy, passionate, hard
But words – they can kill softly, slowly
They say
Poison is the woman’s weapon
But have you ever whispered in the dark
“I don’t think I love you anymore”?
In the berry patch with juice on my chin,
the taste of sunshine and green hills
soaking through my taste buds
into my bones, I hold decades
of stories emnedded in my soul
just as the soil beneath my bare feet
holds the history of this land.
I immerse myself in this moment
of sweetness here in this bitter time
when our earth seems so broken;
when hope is often as faded as
blue sky in the intensity of June
morning sun; and when we
struggle to find our path through
torn down mountains and new
shopping malls, but our hearts
still crave the cool dew of the
forest’s canopy and the tender
touch of a lover’s hand.
The bluebirds in my window remind me of you.
A contstant heartache.
I remember when you told me that you wasnt sure what was next.
Wether or not God truly exist, or if you’d ever see your mother again.
Still, you did not fear the darkness, you became it.
No longer interested in unanswered questions.
Never mind the weather, the texture of the soil
or the mean person looking over your backyard fence;
if you’re going to pick the slugs from the lettuce bed,
give it a go. The mean neighbor won’t offer to help;
chances are your best friend won’t offer either.
But once slug-free, crush some dry eggshells
and scatter those around the edges of the bed.
See who dares cross that boundary.
–Melva Sue
i felt it for a microsecond–
the thrill of escape
saw an impossible future
in the gold flakes of a woman’s dress
in the unfolding of curtains
beneath the street singer’s closed eyelids
in a group of girls, their hair dancing to the same rhythm
as they paraded the streets
in my uncle’s collection of books
skyscraping through his apartment
his blue leather shoes, skipping in delight
as he cut me another slice of expensive cheese
poured me a glass of honey wine
asked me about my favorite books
about my passions, no, my true passion
and i felt it again, gliding through time square
a thousand different realities unfolding with the burning city
and i kept it like a secret
glass buildings quietly blooming in my closed palms
My brother told me it was “purgatory music”
With no hint of judgment
My mother asked if we could
“Listen to something else, please”
Sometimes I just wanna get high
But without the drugs
So I push the button, get into gear
And hypnotize myself into sweet oblivion
Thrum thrum thrum, th th th thrum
Crusing through a crystalline abyss
Just don’t look down, that way
You’ll never have to see the flames licking your heels
WAKE UP! Time to get coffee with your mother
Remember to grab your wallet and avoid the highway
And don’t forget to message your brother later
Listen to his song, show him that you care
