Posts for June 17, 2024 (page 7)

Moments before the earth grows docile

Cicadas hiss in such a fury I can’t even hear my own thoughts

The buzzing bouncing off the thudding swoosh in my own ears

Humidity that is hot and sticky clings to my face and the skin between my breasts

Though autumn is nigh, the sun’s burden of heat scorches my skin

Enflames my already hot scalp

Earth has decided to carry on its chaos as it knows a gradual shift of its presence, it’s power and strength will begin to fade

Starting with the leaves no longer as green as moss covered tree bark

Or when the mornings shift to a bitter cold, frost slabbing itself against smooth rocks and tips of grass

And though the hot smell of earth ripe with life still burns my nose, the haunting smell of decay lingers ever so lightly clinging to trees, to dirt, to the air

Even the hope of smelling apples on trees, the sweet, clean smell of life still clinging to the drooping branches is nothing but a reminder that the precipice of death is near

During dinner, you went outside
And rode your bike in the driveway,
You hit a curb, scraped your knee,
And now lay on the concrete,
Your bike lays there, ripped to shreds,
Your eyes start to cloud up,
You can choose to sit there,
Or maybe try to stand up,

You could lay, bleeding out,
Waiting for someone to find you,
But they never will, they heard you’re fine,
And think you’re having fun out there,
You’ll live your life alone, outside,
Clutching your wounded knee,
While your parents choose to stay inside,
Saying that you don’t need them,

But if you choose to stand up
And walk inside the house,
Tell your mom, with sobbing eyes
About what has just happened,
She will hold you, tend your wounds,
Soothe your crying heart,
Your dad will go and fix your bike,
And help you to cheer up,

It scared you to tell the truth,
Since you might get in trouble,
But your family truly loves you
And knows how this has hurt you,
And even though your sister’s small,
And has never tried to pedal,
She understands your hurt from this,
Even she falls when she toddles,

Please let this be a sign
To everyone that needs it,
Your family, your friends,
They’re here for you
In your greatest times of need,
However big or small,
If even insignificant,
They’re here to help,
Unload and share,
They’ll fix you up in an instant,
Don’t bottle up those troubles, sorrows,
Don’t take them to the grave,
Your family misses you dearly,
So don’t stay on the pavement.

goth for the basement show
  where i’ll catch a prion disease
     and the bassist’ll spear me
destined for bust on the wall
  overseas radiowaves thru antlers
                repeat scene
cling onto a new curly head
  who sings with me
                     with his hair flying
goth for the basement show
  midnight walk home slow
     because everyone else left
us                       but he’s too tall
     and there’s
     no hug to miss

I’m tired of being         a ghost,

    of watching     people     pass

right through me         with only a chill

to take     from our interaction.

    No one visits     my grave anymore.

No one places     taut     fingers

    on a planchette     for me

to spin     around     a board.

I just     glide     from     room

to     room,     watching.

If I am to be stuck     here

    in the veil         between         worlds,

perhaps     I should start     being

more         malicious .     I could try

throwing             plates,                 slamming
    
doors    ,   opening     cabinet             drawers.

I could     haunt    their         ever      waking     days.

But     that’s not me, and.    

I don’t want to lose myself

in death. 

Voices raised in
harmony and synchrony
laying on hands to
guide and heal before breaking
bread, raising cup, say amen.

Sow seeds of kindness
Start a brushfire of love
Burn down a forest of evil
The muscle power of God

You know those words you scratched out today?
That poem?

The graphemes and phonemes that spellbound you with their call & response
and became a tent revival on a smouldering summer night…
Or did you think them dull? Paint slowly chipping away from a rusted handrail in a strip mall parking lot, watching a wilting in real time… 

No matter how you feel about them, that poem, those words, just as you laid them down – 

No human being has ever done that before.
Never in the whole history of everything.
Not the way you have,
not with that heartbeat
not with that tear

Just you.
It could only have been you. 
Your perfect fingerprint left on the windows of eternity as you peek through worlds

Just you, beautiful you. 

(so give yourself a break)

Today she turned a perfect
somersault on the porch,
a feat we’d never seen—
her black velvet coat
brushing fate. If only we
could so easily take a new
dare—sweep away fear,
for example, carefree
as a cat.

Golden grass swaying.

Silent breezes pushing back

Gently.

Yet after love I find,

Breezes singing, dancing fields

telling a story that’s

all too familiar.

I want Indian takeout.
I want Ozempic allegations.

I have two back teeth in desperate need
of a sweet treat and root canals.

God save the (Dairy) Queen
and IV sedation.