she keeps the sun on her hip and the sky in her eyes with frail fingers surrounding the moon
fall out boy audiothon
Laundry-mat in Missouri
hispanic children cheering U-S-A while watching the olympics in the laundry-mat chasing each other with gun hands and an AK-47 a businessman with high eyebrows sits straight on a red chair watching the games from behind he’s probably washing more long sleeve shirts with vertical blue stripes and waiting for his dress slacks to dry outside a man from Guatemala or probably Ecuador leans on a...
We still say the Sun rises and the Sun sets but long ago it was determined that the Earth turns and turns some more
poetry is making new things familiar and familiar things new
At the Auction
the cars park in a field out back where people walk uphill to the auction a yard full nick-nacks this and that an old house full of old things a woman in the corner giggles on an organ an old man climbs in a closet to look for old jewelry a younger lady has hidden the boxes of quilts I stand watching them and feel cool air float down from the vent the auctioneer shuffles in with his microphone...
your subtle soul sings us to sleep words float through the fan out the window into the wind and carry across the cityscape
my eyes leak all the images I’ve ever seen
tumblr. can kill the poet
Ghost of Colder Days
She fits like a coat keeping me warm in the cold places of my soul My memories are in her pockets I wear her when visiting the past is full of demons I empty on the floor and I give myself back to myself a ghost of colder days
wisdom worth heeding is never popular
how little did I know then how little do I know now
My father once told me not to play with fire but how was I to know the girl dressed like a librarian sitting behind me with such red hair green eyes and freckled everything would burn so hot in the winter and even more in the spring
i - a a - b m - a b - b, i - c c - d - c m - d, e - e t - f e - e r - f, coup - g, let - g.
She kissed him with glitter lips her flat nose pressed against a face resting on a skull full of thoughts about how the night would end She searched his mouth for words he couldn’t speak found his ears asked for poetry parents wouldn’t read He taught her to rhyme with her toes curled rolled her over the pages of past poems and showed her the basics of parallelism
rather than go to pool parties with girls in bikinis dream that their Icees are martinis and their numbers come easily I sit inside six walls of silence thinking about the reasons I’m alone
You are not the words you speak, but the actions...
“I’ll see you when the sun sets east”
the cats are in the kitchen sink
We the Poets
We want to be underground We want to paint the streets with the blood inside our heads We want to write banned books We want to publish poems our parents wouldn’t read We want to rip the seams out of every perfect stitch We want to see the world turn over in her grave We want courage to do these things
Stick out your tongue taste the honey from the sun stretch your paws to heaven mark your chest with the holy V Asia is most unkind to the likes of you and the likes of me shuffle off to space there you will be too dark to see out of sight and out of mind may save your life and maybe mine
I Couldn't Keep Her
she said to meet her on the sweeter side of the sun but I was on the sour side of the moon by the time I reached her she had burned for me long enough where I thought to find flowers only grew fire
Just discussed the walk-through of the movie Inception with my brother-in-law. I believe we have figured the movie out almost 100% The details may boggle your mind, I had to use my whiteboard.
“And we’ll dance like cancer survivors..”
is never anon
then I learned the secret stop editing every word you think
showslow: [Lux Aeterna] Requiem for a Dream -...
that’s all folks
In the Mourning
Six hours before I die it’s midnight as everyone heads to bed and I nervously sweat in mine Five hours before I die the restaurants are closed and something grows inside my skin Four hours before I die the night is darkest at this time and I use fireflies for light Three hours before I die the stars fade into the blue-green sky and the crickets stop talking Two hours before I die the air I...
She is the sound my heart makes she is the course which my blood flows she is the white and red cells that compose me she is me
Moon and Sun
Being with her was simple like walking through the phases of the moon to her door and knocking until the birds sang only then would she rise past the window across the ceiling and greet me on the other side we shared her light for thirteen hours until she slipped beneath the covers of a darker sky and I watched her sleep knowing halfway around the world her dreams were a reality
Sometimes I feel like I don’t have any wasta
“I’m with you in Rockland, in my dreams you walk dripping from a sea-journey on the highway across America in tears to the door of my cottage in the Western night.”
I just want to be good at something but fear keeps me from practicing anything I don’t want a job I don’t want to fulfill expectations I just want to do something original but I compare myself too quickly When I gained weight and stopped sleeping I realized I’m not even good at being myself Let alone being someone for you
I had so much purpose or many purposes either way I figured it out Until my father asked me at the end of the day what do you have to show for what you’ve done? Then nothing felt worth doing