Sep 06
poem 2 comments challenge: Last

blue

This is your last chance
Your childhood is volitant
It flits on blue jay wings in
circles around your dizzy head
Be wary,
don't try and cage it,
let it roam and aviate your imagination
Hold it deftly
Let the indigo and azure feathers
poke out from your intertwined fingers
Notice the worn plumes,
the frayed edges
from times better off suppressed
Look into the eyes of the creature
Between each ripple of the iris
is an immaculate memory
in which joy manifests,
but
the animal cannot stay forever,
so if it nods a goodbye,
emancipate it
Gaze upon it
as it disappears
into the horizon

and remember

 
Sep 04

to night

some nights,
when the wind reaches me in delicate waves
and ties my mind into a christmas present bow,
i hold my eyes open until the crickets fall asleep,
and listen to the grass bodies bump into each other
like people on the streets of Times Square,
some nights
the world is quiet,
but my mind still sways like the metal swings
in the backyard,
they wait for a time that has already passed
they wait for a purpose,
but we are grown up,
we dont swing anymore
so
the immaculate debris swings silently in its
somber, sentimental grandeur 
some nights,
like tonight,
when the wind can't quite reach my bedroom window
i lie in wait for sleep to grasp my hand 
and pull me into a sweet isolated realm of dreams,
where my mind can untangle
and night never ends

 
Jun 19

dear flower

From the perspective of Emilia in Othello, The Moor of Venice


i served you in torment
through it all i remained dormant
you told me you were diamond and that i was tin
you were strong but i was weak within
each piece of me bent under the pressure
of making you happy
in your shadow i had no room to grow
my roots ran deep, my spirits ran low
but happily i wilted, for you

but then i saw another
wilted, just as i
someone had broken her porcelain skin
an innocent creature, committed not a single sin
i reached out my wilted arms to guide her away
from the darkness and into the light of day
tried to help her grow

i told her
accusations were not evidence of crime
and this man was wasting his time
for
a stone and a flower
both have equal power
and although
the scales of society may be imbalanced
we seek justice
we seek equality
Jun 17

walk with me

walk with me
through this field,
watch the wind 
swing from the branches 
of the oak trees,
feel the sun beckon
the freckles out of our faces,
we will look as if we have been
painted by pollock,
spattered with beauty marks
from the sun's paintbrush,
feel the blades of grass sprout 
between out toes
and goosebumps rise
on our necks,
listen to the tiger lily butterflies
whisper as they crawl 
up your arms,
be still while i weave our fingers
into knots and bows
i will entwine promises
between our knuckles,
look closely at the words that
the clouds write in the sky,
amongst all of the flowers in this field
you are the most magnificent,
so reach for the blue horizon
and when the sun rises again
i will meet you in the field
and we will lie in this
garden 
forever

Published In: The Voice
Jun 16

say a swift goodnight

Written from the perspective of Othello from the shakespearean play, Othello, the Moore of Venice


It started out a midsummer night’s dream,
But somehow betrayal ran through your bloodstream
And no matter how loudly I could hear your heartbeat,
The steady pulse never revealed your intentions, bittersweet

Your eyes, a deep trench of your own mystery,
How could a girl like you love a Moore like me,
I suppose now it’s history,

Your eyes, as shallow as your grave,
Not my fault
Your choice to misbehave
This is just
So I must
Put out your light
So say a swift goodnight
Because despite
The love we shared,
It is better to die in justice
Than to live in despair

Your eyes, dark as the night we met
Were once the only things I thought I could ever love,
You make deception look graceful,
I should have been grateful,
Your cunning artifices

Jun 12

silver fingers

i spoke to the moon yesterday,
about why the wind blows,

it said that the wind has a way,
a way that only it knows,

the moon, so seemingly far away,
caressed my face with a sliver finger
a gentle flicker of light traced my face,
from my jaw to my temple,
he told me i still had much to learn

after many gusts of wind
shook the juniper branches
the moon winked goodbye

a golden beacon rose to relieve the moon,
he sulked as his body retired to horizon,
although i could no longer see his light,
i still felt the wind
and it reminded me 
of him


Published In: The Voice
Published On: 06/30/2017
 
Jun 07

truth

i would say that missing you comes in waves
but that wouldn't be true
missing you approaches as a thought and soon fades to a feeling that engulfs me and envelopes me in a sharp embrace
your words pour from my eyes in melancholy floods
that drown the feelings that i had when you used to be near
my guilt and my sadness drown out the doubts that were here
the river of anguish that suffocates me now washes away the grievances
that used to keep my head above water
they kept me from falling

i would say that missing you shakes me like an earthquake 
but that wouldn't be true
each crooked, half smile shakes me to my core
the weakest parts of me crumble to imagine what you think of me now
as you saunter past without so much as a look i can feel myself slip back into the void of missing you
my ears ring with the words of others
my hands sting with the pain of having to push away thoughts of words exchanged
May 24

unoriginal


am i really who i used to be,
i know that
new words and
new experiences
are laced, interwoven, and layered on top of my previous self
i am sick of the media putting words in my mouth
and filthy songs in my head
i say that its a generational thing
and that there is nothing i can do to stop
the madness and the chaos caused by the pressures of the digital world,
but its a choice as is everything else
it is a choice to click on an image
it is a choice to sacrifice yourself to a screen
destroying your free will and your version of your own self worth
do you know who you are under the layers of the new you
do i know who i am
my skeleton of truth lies under so many layers
i dont know what it looks like anymore
things that used to matter to me are too hard to reach so i ignore the fact that they were ever there
i am scared to grow older
Apr 10
poem 2 comments challenge: Perfect

boy in the woods

i was scared
and shivering in the young sunlight of the day
you were something new
and somehow i just knew
that nothing could go wrong
because the birdsong
spread hope between every branch
in the wood
and i could feel it when i closed my eyes
between my lashes and on my cheeks

a day of firsts,
but i could'nt tell you that,
you walked with a furrowed brow
through the patches of snow and mud,
adrenaline coursed through my blood
no words slipped out of our mouths
the constant fear of letting things go south
we listened to all the time in the world
tick away
under the break of day
i felt myself being led astray
but it was okay
i let my hands swing loose by my hips
just incase you wanted to hold them
like you held my interest everyday
but you didn't
and that was okay too

 
Apr 10

messy, angsty teen poem

The fading tan lines on their fingers are not what you think
love is not as permanent as ink
fingers now bare
no silver promises, no longer a pair
wiping tears from their childrens eyes are lonely ring fingers and
yes, there is pain that lingers
when I find pictures of locked hands
from a honey moon in the islands
and I feel it in my mind and I hear in my ears
the fighting that is ripping my concept of love to pieces
I watch curse words fall out of their mouths 
and run down their faces like tears
and in through every crevice
as they break their own hearts by breaking eachother's
and contrary to what you might think
divorce does not bring together a sister and a brother
divorce is the wirecutters to a chain link fence
divorce is not from a power above and
divorce is not a labor of love

"nothing will change" they say,
no, its not that nothing changes

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