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Posts for June 5, 2019 (page 11)

Andrea Lawler
Category
Poem
4
6/5/19

To Breathe

Is it wrong to long
for an everlasting, can’t-breathe-without-you
kind of love?
 
Unfurled passion unmatched by any wildfire-
eye to eye, neither questions to whom
they belong. 
 
Hearts, beating 
they are one in the same flesh-
To live is to love, to die is to love-
they walk both paths, unseperated. 
 
Joy or sorrow,
peace or chaos,
abundance or wanting,
deep breaths they draw in-
feeding each other — giving of their life. 
 
Is it wrong to wonder,
what you would say if I asked you 
if you feel this way about me?
 
Could I finally breathe?
 
 
 
Madison Miller
Category
Poem
1
6/5/19

Generational Acrobats

No matter how many times,
this story is told
it ends in the clutched throat
tight rope walk
across my mothers veins.
 
My voice breaks
so I never breach
her rigid boundaries.
“Step on a crack,
you break your mothers back.”
 
I am five years old and learning
to be my mother’s mother.
I do not know how to be cared for,
only how to nurture…
How to turn other’s pain
into my own.
 
I know to hold it
and rock it to sleep
but never lay it down,
in case it were
to wake screaming.

I am so afraid of others
doing the same.
I have seen
the bending backwards
too far
until the breaking
belongs to anyone
or everyone else’s
fragile,
tight rope walking,
heart.
Dennis Preston
Category
Poem
4
6/5/19

The Last Cent

The Last Cent

I counted out every coin,
right down to the last cent
as I paid for my brand new
box of sixty-four.  Some
of the pennies were so old,
they had turned “green”
around the edges.  It sure
felt good walking home
with a rainbow in a box.

nrd
Category
Poem
1
6/5/19

Anticipation

She keeps me up at night
Teasing me with what might come
I twitch, I shake
Not in pleasure
It is unease she unleashes
The sun goes down, the distance shortens
More calm and intimate now
She walks with me down the path to exhaustion
But stops me before I pass through the gate into a garden of sleep
The conversation starts softly
It is not a soothing sound
Barely a whisper
A persistent hum
Like the buzz of a gnat
Constantly reminding of the questions tonight asks
And tomorrow will answer

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