The Grinch of Christmas PresentGone with the deadlineMagic turned to bitten nailsHopes for bigger shoes
AhemEloquent drivel-Slug trails shimmer in moonlight,But it's still just slime.
Stick in the EyeTrouble stickslike the tar pitsof your eyes.Dig me up when I touch the bottom.Till then,I'll be amassing mastodonsFor a later date.
She Talks to FaeriesShe talks to faeries, though earth boundShe's of the moon, my lovely loon.One wing out and one wing inof where the edges fray and thin,Leading off to otherwhere.Threads of aether in her hair,Lachrymose she tarries hereHalfway lost and halfway foundT'ween the toadstools, hunkered downWond'ring why they left her hereA grounded creature of the air.Silly loon,you are a door.That is what they left you for.Halfway ours and halfway theirsSeeing clearly through your tearsA peephole to a far off placeCalled by songs of Otherspace
1000 Feet DownIt's 1000 feet down you would sayAnd I would kick and sway.Beneath me lay such wild and terrible beasts,Each coveting my tender toesWhich trembled at their teeth.And so our game would go,Me clinging there unwilling to let go,Quite sure I'd soon be food for crocodiles,Growing weaker and more frantic all the while,While you stood, arm still sure and strong,Aware 1000 feet was not so longFor a father's love to reach.And though my childish fancies made me fear,Both your arms always would be thereTo catch me falling,To hold me tight and tell me I was brave,That you were there to save me all along,But first I had to show that I was strong.
IncorruptibleThese holes with ragged edges bare a letter of your name.I work hard to keep them open,To enshrine my deep devotion,To ensure the only token that you left me with - my pain.So here I keep you cloistered in the ruin that is me,A tomb to love, a flesh reliquary,Graven image to the past, heart held clasped, hands that grasp,Unwilling to relinquish your remains,Relishing the martyrs role for the one I'd canonize,These sacred scars, my ragged holes,The sweet stigmata of my soul,Weeping that you'd make me whole and open up your eyes,Roll back the rock, releasing me from Sisyphus's stead,But devotion doesn't matter to the dead.My eidolon, my anguish, I've come to realize,For me to live you must be exorcized.I think I will draw you from my veins.I think I will cast thee out.I think I will euthanizeThis worn acolyte once so devout.This is my body. This is my blood.It's time to bury you for good.
i was born to destroy youi am no hydra.there is no poison-tipped spear,no angry torch to hold to my necki may not raze your fields nor eat your livestockbut i was born to destroy you.when i smile i want you to thinknot of wolves, but of girlspretty girls, with flirtatious red lipsand teeth white as pearlsnot of monsters who lurkunder grandmother's bedswallowing children for supper.i am no chimaera, no sphinx:no hero can vanquish me on winged pegasusi cannot breathe fire or deceive with words(it's all appearances, everyone knows that.)do not forgetit was helen who launched a thousand ships,clytemnestra who slew agamemnonjudith who beheaded holofernesbecause no one thinks that your lipstickmight be congealed blood,nobody thinks that the points of your nailsmight serve more than a decorative purposenobody stops to consider the nightshade in your perfume,the foxglove flowers on the mantleand the cyanide in your purse.perhaps i don't look like a monster, but remember:no one's an angelan
Blue PillI've only ever followedthe path already sketched out for me, but the blueprintsprint blues to my forehead;to my forearms. Cracking smiles is as taboo to me as crack rocks.I've tried crossing the River Styx on my own, but I alwaysfind myself getting drownedby the Ferryman, as he tells methat it's not the right timethat it's over for me yet.So I take the blue pill and a handful of advilto ease into reality.
Play Me In CrescendoIt scares me that this could bemy last poem—something more than a goodbyebut less than my soul;a mere imprinton half a white pagejust begging to be read, read, and re-read.I haven’t even begun to graspthe hintings of love,its quirks & random tendenciesto be set aflamewhen you look into the eyesof someone staring backat yours.It isn’t fair for fearto house in the hollowsof your stomach,because there’s so much morethat’s worth the goodyou’re too shy to touch—knowing you’ve been burned before.
So darling, don’t leave me roseson my grave;read to me,in your happiest of voices,poems and quotationsyou’d give your heart forto trade.
SuspendedWinter has frozen her work now,secret names shimmering, safe, anguished.Lulled, we enter it like a rocking cradle,the white, vaulted roomwhere frost settles into glass, where we shrink with the noise of deathdrawing itself across the snow,packing up the wise, the sad, the beautiful.Our hands are older than our eyes, some say.Some say our memories are forgiven,that we’ve come to a placefamous for absurdity,but this is the part where we light the village farolitos,like children accustomed to time travel and invisibility,striking our matches in the dark.
DownfallAnd in this dark harvest of seasonMy life has completely lost reason,For which or against to decide.All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tideIn sadness and in kindnessIn light and in darkness.In a boat made of hopeI shall sail to tomorrow,In a winding hurricaneMade of treachery and sorrow.There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...Piercing, slashing though my head.Starting somewhere in heaven,Ending somewhere in hell.Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.Are the armies within.In my head they are all thrashing.On the heaven's and hell's whim.To be light or to be darkness.A perpetual array.It's not merely my choice,But the choice of the way.It's an option of the voice,It's a thin line of gray.Is it a choice forced by fate,Is it a pre-set time and date?Or a choice to which I myself sway?But here's our story anyway
."Nothing that I do will matter.As all things will merely shatter!"All my hopes thus darkness scatter,As it shoves me a decree.As it si
the equation formerly known as 'us'integrating integrity into nano-christened circuits, this is the difference between what you see and what goes on, the anonymities between our arteries and mitochondria: all the makeup of an atomic bomb, bits of fire and reasons why we didn't stop fast enough a level above consciousness,conclusion: is it sanctuary, like the sound of self-destruction and cannon-made creation, softer, slicker, a sunset in between your motherboard and the fifth dimension, sounds like love or anarchy, (the computation makes it wonder: what is the difference?)this is one definition tracked by linguists in the future: one, two, not addition but simulation, emulsion, (fusing) different atoms, different substance ingratiated quarks and bearing down,so tangled up the universedoesn't know us now
PhoenixI won't be your phoenix,your death wishof maudlin wordsstretched across this failing light.I will not wearnew wings for youthat crimson youwere born with -a mother's final wishto keep out the winterand weep.But I will wait,the flaw and beautyof your youthpainted across your palmsas you hold upthe moon to meet me.
All Hallows EveThey say that on this night the witches ride,that spirits walk and churchyards spew their dead. It isn’t true. It’s said the stench of hell infects the earthand healths of heated blood are downed. But Hamlet lied. The dead know nothing, the living less. There are only poets with blood-nibbed pens;souls hung between high heaven and deep hell.
Authorshipyou’re the authorof this story - and yetinsist on playingthe role of a foilwhen you couldrewrite the pagesas you wish.
Drink'n it DownGlub Glub.Drink it down.Half Full.Half Empty.Gone.VodkaWhiskeyGin and RumTequilaBeer and wineLoss comes in many flavors.We come in many flavors.Life - It drinks us down.And we'reHalf fullHalf emptyGone