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Category: Poem

  • Coagulation

    Coagulated emotions like blood produce clots which travel to your heart and kill you   With each beat your pulse weakens as you do over time   You will die you know it’s the style in which you go that counts

  • Ailing

    A hollowness and an aching promise of pain yet to come   If my temperature runs lower than average and then increases to the average temperature this means I have fever this means I am ill this means I am ailing   Clammy hands are often heated by a hot head   A hollowness and…

  • Recognition

    I have somewhat bothersome dissociative episodes in which I look in the mirror and do not recognize mysels (No, I mean) I do not recognize myself or I recognize myself apart from the human flesh that sometimes binds me I tell my psychiatrist about this. Hmmm, he says. What do you think these are about,…

  • Sake

    fragility, fickleness, fucking brittleness time and space fucking for alliteration’s sake the words and the meaning undefined even to the one who writes them   we are empty vessels slaves to the words and the meaning ignorant of their origins or depth

  • Pounding Posture Discharge

    Nasal discharge is carelessly swiped away on my wrist It’s sort of gross but I can’t reach the Kleenex and you know deep down more than allergies I suffer from laziness and besides I’m tired   Bad posture he says but he knows the weight in my chest bends me downward like ice on worn-out…

  • Objects

    Not my dearest just yet. A raccoon man, much older than he looks. patrickshead, which is bald. a casanova, a hotteach, a sexy4u or some such. some other man, who caught me looking.   A boy younger with a cute smile. A boy older with an edge and an attitude. A boy with a nice…

  • Knowing

    I feel a bubble and I know I have an ulcer in the space between my upper and lower jaws   A boy told me and seduced me yesterday with his diagnosis that I probably had a patellar femoral articulation injury in my knee   My first day volunteering and I was already bleeding under…

  • Going

    Listen I’m tired of her I’m tired of hearing her I’m tired of seeing her   Since she’s on her way to good health or on her way to not-so-bad health   Her complaining and her refusals are symptoms of a petulant child I have no patience for   Since she’s going anyway I wish…

  • For Someone Who Sees Partly Sunny Skies

    I dreamt of you today   though I didn’t see your face   I knew it was you   the number was seven and it was bright yellow

  • On Random Poems

    On Tragedy …a haiku by poeticgrin, 8/18/04   Weed in a taco Broken swings, asses, and dreams Satan’s spawn inside     Rotting …not sure if poeticgrin or I wrote this one. It sort of sounds like me, but it’s on Bryan’s b-day, 7/30/96   Sinking deeper and deeper   The sand fills my mouth…