Posts
-
Cold Mornings
Awakening to days whose foggy mornings
bow to the dark hoofs of the midnight horse.
Covering myself in thick blankets, attempting to
divert the cold that
-
Quick on the Draw
You
love me
fast, miss me
faster, I ran to
you, now running away takes
much longer. To get to you
-
missing you
There are degrees of missing you.
-
Sinews
The sinews from my strewn out muscles lay the skeleton of my blanket,
remind me of my strength,
its fortitude when not forsaken.
-
Silhouette
I looked
otherwise unaltered
used to stand
-
Static
These days I sip
on the light from the window.
Sometimes the walls are dark, and they swallow
it up, and there's none left to reach me
Loves
-
Vase
What am I?
A doormat for your shoes?
Cobblestone for your steps?
Am I meant for nothing more
than a book, open pages,
assigned by your english professor,
-
ARS POETICA (capitalized for emphasis) ((a college poem about poetry))
More often than not you will find language will bow for you
Put your palms on a notebook you filled as a child and with enough intention the push will bring up sentences and phrases you'd forgotten
-
-
anatomy of a broken heart
I.
A small brush of fingers,
Biting your lips to stop a smile,
Choking on the words,
Dancing late under streetlights,
Everything could change with one slip,
Find my waist, feel my heartbeat,
-
ywp is a movement of poets
a community of fools
given the power to combine words
and a pen
that can write so much meaning
in just two, or three, or millions of words,
and sometimes, there aren't enough
-
If
I —
I could.
I could, love.
I could love you.
I could love you if…
I —I wanted.
I wanted to.
I wanted to, love.
