February 2010
69 posts
I am embarrassed all of the time.
January 2010
44 posts
The Speech
You could have ended your life
in mono-syllabic undertones,
unfinished words but
who would have listened except
for me? I always knew
how to finish your sentences, but
that probably wasnt the point
of final breath, arms
slinging down in defeat.
Instead, your words came out
longer, softer, everyone understood
completely.
At the beginning of your speech,
even I couldn’t tell...
Paris
Whenever I find myself
on the verge of asking
questions that don’t want
asking, I think
of Paris, where they made
the eye-slicing films
of the forties, where trials
always ended in the verdict:
pain, but
let’s add some more pain,
let’s try to forget by
remembering until we lose
even our lives.
In Paris you stood, mouth open,
wondering how they could take us
back...
thelovelybones:
I want everyone to stop making a competition about how messed up they are. It’s not cool to have problems. It doesn’t make you better or more interesting than the next person. You shouldn’t be ashamed to admit your issues, but you should want to fix them, not show them off. (#:#:#:#)
TOO MUCH TRUTH.
Ross wrote a poem! Yay! Gold star!
Oh woe is me for I have loved,
In my time it seems not enough,
I freckle upon the sea dove,
stuff,
Oh woe is me for I have known,
that what can never be shown.
Go Back
Undiscovered by anyone, God in his aching
reliance on sleep says when you dream,
you dream of Him.
He is in those rooms, is the rooms themselves, is
darkness and light, is
the neighbor you dreamed was dancing
in her empty kitchen before
you climbed through the window, inexplicably
into Whitney Daniel’s house, where you haven’t been
since age ten.
God might be trying to tell...
Unfiltered
In time this will disappear, yes, even this year
this season, too, the leaves, the
snow will not come after, nor the spring.
A book without final pages, you remain
open at the end, no matter
how many men
decide to give their lives, yours will remain
intact, unattached
to anyone else’s.
Men in slight suits will come home
without warning, early in the evening, when their wives
are...
The Source
The year she was twelve she ate green apples instead of red
and I held her hand when she crossed me,
streets open and wild in her palm, earth golden, delicious.
Her whole life played out like a newspaper headline, and
when the story was reported everyone stood up from their desks,
in the offices, the schools,
mechanics slipping out from underneath cars.
Rarely had we ever watched anything...
PS Facelessbook.com is a real thing but NOT what I...
The best thing I did last night
was try to go to Facelessbook.com.
I WANT HERTO BE MY PARALEGAL.
TUMBLRMEAT
This is THE BEST POEM I HAVE EVER WRITTEN....
Lying upon the dead legs of a dog,
You foist upon me a ham of deep meat!
How can you woman, oh how you can!
Threaten me with your batan!
—-
OR THIS ONE MAYBAY! OYSTAHS!
Fish of sea you swim so colorfully,
I wonder woefully without
A pause to dis-condition of those
Society-induced thoughts!
Whale of monarchy, you thief of man!
I will not be a lover if you can
Please tell me to ignore...
I CANT FUCKING WRITE AND I CANT FUCKING SLEEP I...
Black Friday
Here I run, a mountain goat winning a game
Which I play by myself—nature unbound.
Saw in tow, my family looks for our Christmas tree without me.
I am away, really, and they can tell,
Though my mother smiles that the tradition goes unhindered
By distance or the time I have promised I need
To visit myself, talk to God a bit more.
-
I have memories here which take place
In regions I can no...
The Singer
We entered a church turned to sin by the night,
Amidst bullies to which you could never commit,
Little boys chasing you around in a wave,
Undulating ocean of noise
Beneath our feet.
-
It was only a matter of time, a matter of reviving
The densely packed grace of your dance,
Before the paralysis came, ironically and without warning.
-
You were poetry, of course. My poetry.
The...
Erin, 2008
You were tumbling, tumbling,
Your back yard a rolling jungle-
Gym and don’t you ever tell me again!
Those things hurt my head, brothers
Stumbling, stumbling all
Over your bedroom, eyes locked
On your freckled, pickling back.
-
It is hard to know how we went from
Your forehead on the sprinkler, blood, blood,
To you and him in the tent and fuck, fuck.
You are still so young, and
Still...
Carolyn, Seventh Grade
Lay up on that mountain of a boy,
Let the heartlessness of heart begin,
Gradual unwinding, bending of the hips
Arms down to the floor, toes begging to be touched.
-
You spread your fingers, shake, roll,
Rattle all those little pieces of your adolescence,
Eyes never on the door, eyes never on the DJ, eyes
Always on the boy. They never accept it,
That you are not quiet, not peaceful, not...
Being journal-y all over the fucking place
I am in a really bad place right now. I probably should not let myself stay up so late, the night is not being nice to me lately. Smoking too much. Listening to really bad music. Missing too much. I hate this whole heartbreak stuff. I am not used to it. Tessa is on a road trip to LA, she sent me a beautiful text about how much she loves me. Because of the sadness thing. The sadness coming from...
MY TUMBLARITY IS AT ZERO!!!!
I feel as if I have accomplished something!
I am actually a little bit proud.
HOLLA @ UR ZERO GURLZ!
2010 is the year for weird rhyming...
It was odd to consider those years of wondering
wastes of thought.
Always an option, your head on mine,
you waited for the trauma of my life
to cease, which it did not.
You looked at me and saw
a boat, unwrecked from sea,
rebuilt to float but ugly, empty,
you could bring old wreckage back,
oil the ocean which is
far too blue, I’ve heard
the other sailors say in wet whispers
anyways.
...