Category: Poem
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scar tissue
We welcome scar tissue into our arms like it’s a good thing As if it were a long-loved but long-forgotten lover we pretend never made us long-suffering Scar tissue whose flap signals hardening and distance, both reasons to smile sorrowfully Scar tissue whose cells allow us to survive But at an angry and vengeful cost…
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Black Party Invite
I do not let tears well That will come later After the worst Whatever it is Always goes one way or the other There will be a ring Strangers will answer I said it’s time for tragedy And one is here Listen.
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return to form
a return to form says the review in the paper as if today has a bearing on some yesterday long forgotten the form is beside the point the return a curse rewritten something tired and already said a return a rerun a curse rewritten and best left unread
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stream
A perfectly nice lady walked by today Said I must have gotten some sun I’d been crying How many streams have strummed down these freckled cheeks, the chords bitter, sad tears Rueful and grudging That the enemy might pay! But on the dark moonlit side, My gaze, stone I do not regret the tears I’ve…
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Happy
I am an eager child Blue eyes lighted like candles When you come into view I beam A moment of hesitation As I wait for you to return the adoration Surely you’re happy to see me?
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Fate of Fire
who would choose the fate of fire the apathy of plunge blade for blood in the face of death some of us shine brighter as if destruction was our calling in life
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Fog
Tonight I break my silence. This is my open letter to you. You will always be remembered as a vapor the heat-wet rising to fog the mirrors, blurring distinction: When I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw you, too. But that’s not true I saw a mirage and what I wanted to see…
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sun dreams
Sun dreams! You are naughty, wakeful spiteful dreams! Leaving no trace but a whisper, a whisper Uttered by those who know but stranger to the one whose fate is sowed In sun dreamed dreams
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floppy ears, as they should be
she came on a Sunday left on a Wednesday it wasn’t like it was a special day she liked leaves and maybe be leaving too come to think of it when it’s time to go let ‘er go ears against the wind flipped inside out the way they should be Postscript, if…
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