Posts for June 10, 2019

Category
Poem

Poem About Poems

Breaking my own rule

to not write about

writing—doesn’t feel

as good as breaking

my own rule about not

drinking soda except on

Friday’s and never more

than two in one day.

It definitely doesn’t feel

as good as spending money

that I regulated to necessities

on brand new skate shoes.

It doesn’t come close to

the satisfaction of forsaking

the promise I made to myself

not to invite anyone else

to use what’s left of my love.

The lesson: some rules you make

because you enjoy when they break.


Category
Poem

Wrong Person Wrong Time

You are what happens

when I try to determine

destiny.

I always thought it’d be you.

I always wanted it to be you.

Until it was you

on top of me

bare

brazen

beautiful

ready to fuck.

And then everything

came to a stop.

When it hit me

I did not fight the

frenzy of tears

that took over

the moment.

You were not

prepared for this.

 


Category
Poem

intuition

in the end

always trust 

intuition- 

she will rarely fail you,

and  may just save 

your life

regret


Category
Poem

イメージ2(蟲師・エピソード2)

mabuta no hikari.’
 
i treasure this trick
the trickling trap of light
when you shut your lashes tighter than tight,
shudder your lids,
          shut shutter than shut,
until eye-vomit becomes your sight.
 
you can clutch beauty, you can pin it in your iris,
and it can tooth you back, lovely bug, bacteria, virus.
 
the churn in moonlight of worms out a skull is an exorcised infection—
it’s one column toward the sky. it’s one column of weight and want
and
simple curiosity.
 
ten years later, i think, ‘how much beauty fits in one brain.’
and,
          ‘well, how much blindness would you buy,
          if you got the one view that mattered?’


Category
Poem

Tired

I’m tired.

I don’t want to deal with angry people anymore.

I’m tired.

Sick of wondering what my life is for.

I’m tired.

It’s time to make some changes.

I’m tired.

So tell me how a whole life rearranges.

I’m tired.

I want new friends.

I’m tired.

I want this struggle to end.

I’m tired.

I want to be the girl,

not tired,

but standing on top of the world.

I’m tired

of wondering why I’m here.

I’m tired

of wrapping all my love in fear.

I’m tired.

Tell me there’s somewhere for me.

I’m tired.

A better place for us to be.

I’m tired

Of always falling behind.

I’m tired

Of living life in my mind.

I’m tired

Of putting dreams on the shelf.

I’m tired

Of not making time for myself.

I’m tired

Of chasing time.

I’m tired

Of this entire rhyme.


Category
Poem

Band Bond Broken

Hairband
with broken elastic.

Asking the brown ring
to hold a bun
is a waste of my time.
It has been through
too many trials,
wrapped too many times,
pulled against hair
that just won’t let go.

Much like its owner
this hairband is ready to break.


Category
Poem

privacy

the blinds are always as low
as they can go, the curtains

closed tight as fists against
all the light in this world still

trying to break through hands
held flush against the sun.

even when home
alone, I shut my bedroom door

so no one can get in to see
what life is really like for me:

lonely star without planets,
black hole. lately I wonder

if my need for privacy should
lead me to travel out past

Pluto, form a city of one.


Category
Poem

Family

they keep telling us
how important it is
to remember them 
when we get older 
and tired with our 
own
so I’m not so sure
that we’re talking
about the same thing


Category
Poem

Deeper than Six Feet

Down
Way Way Way Down
Beyond the six feet
Past the rocks
Past the roots 
Past the worms and Past the bugs
That way down
Keep it narrow and tiny
Barely wide enough for you to see
Barely there
Actully Just like it never was
No Stone needed for remembrance 
No Flowers need for the beauty or the smell
No Angel to stand over watching
No Gargoyle to guard
Nothing is there 
Way Way Way down there


Category
Poem

MONUMENT

EVERY DAY I PASS HIM
 PLAIN MAN WEARING CLOTHES  
LOOKING SOFT,
ARE NOT
 BECAUSE
THEY ARE STONE.
HIS EYES HOODED
AS DEEP IN THOUGHT
BUT THE PUPILS ARE SHARP  

ON AN ESPECIALLY WARM DAY,  
PERCH BY HIM. LEAN AGAINST WAIST,
 HARD BUT SMOOTH,  
REST MY HEAD  
IN FOLD OF COAT  
LOOK DOWNWARD BLUSH
THE COOLNESS
GENTLE AGAINST MY CHEEK.  

SAT BY HIM NOBODY ELSE ON THE STREET,
TALK TO HIM.
BUT LIKE
WITH  NOT -TO-
TOLD HIM ABOUT BOOK AT GOODWILL.
TUCKED IT BETWEEN TWO SWEATERS AND NESTLED INTO A USED LOVESEAT-ON THE THE COVER WAS A MAN HOLDING A WOMAN VERY TIGHT AS HER DRESS FELL AWAY, SO I HELD IT UP BEHIND A NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC. I FELT VERY STRANGE WHEN I READ IT SCARED AND UNABLE TO STOP  

FROM THEN  A DIFFERENT SIDEWALK  
I WAS EMBARRASSED TO LOOK AT HIM.