Jul 09
poem 0 comments challenge: General

Your Heart

Jun 26
poem 5 comments challenge: Random

E.B.E.B

I called you.
You spoke in fire.
I spoke through falling rain.
You told me you saw a plastic mess and left it.
I told you I grew tree roots from my hands.
You informed me of broken china.
I informed you I was stuck to the wall with super glue.
You notified me through eight books.
I notified you through nine,
but then you switched to ten.
You stomped across your telephone,
while I muddled by mine.
You gulped oxygen,
while I telescoped the window.
The sky was lightning.
We were the burning meadow below it.
You concluded that I never talk.
I ended with you never looked.
But if you had been the wanderer I thought you were,
you would have known
my eyes are books
and your ears are broken.

 
May 30
poem 0 comments challenge: General

Too Soon

Apr 24

Small Girl Sits

Small girl sits. Alone
on glittered steps with purple
asters, and she waits.

A field of flowers
Paints the sky, but petals fall.
As she sits and waits.

Parental steps slip
home, but the flower is gone.
Lays in pooled petals.
 
Nov 29

Stiff Bones

Oct 01

Teen Writer

You can find her words
s
 c
  a
   t
    t
     e
      r
       e
        d
         across the page
and her tears
r
 u
  n
   n
    i
     n
      g
       the ink
when she doesn't know what else to do
after you break her like a pencil.
 
Jun 15
poem 3 comments challenge: General

A Field of Flowers

A field of flowering daisies,
Is where I want to be.
A meadow of measurable sunflowers,
Is what I want to see.

I want to walk through these pastures
With little to no care,
Even when a tiny bumble
Brushes against my hair.

I want the sky a pretty blue
To contrast with colorful petals,
And an image-capturing device
To fit snug in my hand as it settles.

I want a gentle wind to kiss my neck,
As I click my camera madly,
And a smile plastered on my face,
As I mingle with blooms gladly.

I want this day,
But I can not find it.
Yet when I do,
I know I will not mind it.

 
Jun 14

Fake Rocks

I was a stone,
smooth and subtle,
but I wanted to be a rock,
rough and remarkable.

The others were all rocks,
so I became a rock,
but with rigids not quite right,
and colors not quite correct.

I still loved being a rock,
so I strutted over to the others,
but the other rocks
did not want me.

As they wriggled away,
I saw something important.
They were not real rocks,
they were fake rocks,
made entirely of plastic.
 
May 31
poem 2 comments challenge: General

Lemon Cookies

Lemon cookies
cover my tongue
with the
sweet and tart
taste
of my grandmother’s
dining room.

A mild memory
squeezes
into my mind
like lemon juice
into a cup.

There
I’m hiding
under a glass table
with giggles
squeaking
out of my tummy
and lemon cookies
crunching
in my teeth.

 

Pages