Poetry

When I am no longer myself  
And you are no longer yourself  
Will we meet again?  

there is a sweaty girl in the equator

who sits in the fields of her farm, brewing eyes watching the cassava grow

she sits in the refreshing heat, a heat that caresses her cheeks and plagues her mind

Oh Earth, in your embrace we thrive,
Your soil, your sky, keep us alive.
You gift us trees and rivers wide,
With oceans deep and mountains high.

Tree branches scratch past my window

The breeze pulling them through the air

New leaves bud along their strong arms

The sky is clear, blue, and bright

my face is a cage

and the doves inside are suffocating

in a pile of their own shit

my arms are broken wings

and their featherless forms are useless

The seat was uncomfortably stiff and dirty, yet the only way to get home.

I write to shut out the world.

I want to get lost in my own worlds 

Not thinking about life and what’s happening in the world right now.

I write to escape to a whole new world where I have control of everything.

My grandmother never cut flowers with scissors, raised her nonexistent eyebrows plucked beyond all veins of recognition, blinked one eye fishlike & said a knife was all she needed.

Colors 

 
A poem by Sunriver, written for writerfromva 

Once upon a time, 
Quite a few years ago,  

When magnets are placed the right way

They connect

When they're placed the wrong way

They use everything in their power to stay away

From each other

They resist

With a force

Our eyes set upon wealth—

We count our dollar bills;

our materialistic skills. 

We avert our eyes from health, 

“Aging” backwards, 

We'll march with cardboard signs

rainbow letters pretend

that we're happier than we are 

because we understand

the depth of this hole we've dug ourselves

into

the fire we've fed