ClenchGood movements andwarm lightfrom a second storywindow.Oil from the fingerstilted headstaring contestswith the walls-words that break upeasily, calmly andwithout argument orpulling out the muscle fibersin your wrists,worse than handcuffsand innocencein a concrete room.Now listen to this:I want you calm andenraptured-a timid spidertouches the edge ofa sugary cola dropfrom the lips parting for light.I want you without predation.I want you with forgivenessand angerless,the mountains have gone dryand sleepy fromwatching over the hills.And coldso very cold.I want you brokenand untouched by man.Without faith. Undirectedrage, a passion forthe romantic wars.The warmth comes closebut is stopped at the edge of the skin.With every breath my life is given offas moisture and heat and words and air,you cannot take this from me.And whispers, and everything.I want you to tremblewhen the amber shattersand black bugs spill out with syrup on theirglass wings.I
Words For WordsI know for a factthat when I'm no longer sickthe words will stop coming.I will stop becomingclose to a writer.But you don't want that,and neither do I.
Holding Onto The Sharp SideI sent three poemsjust like you askedand after a long pause,you said they were beautifuland I said nothing.If I had a knifeI would cut holes in the paper,If I had a gunI would string it up by the cornersand pull triggers with my eyes closed.bang bang bangclick click clickAnd if I had a matchI would douse myself in gasolinethen touch the pages,and you.I never loved youand you told me the same,we held handskissed hardnot in love, together.You told meterrible stories.Oh, and another thing:at 44.145447 N, 120.583402 Wyou showed me what humansare blessed to hold.(or maybe just deserved)
A Liquid StateIt's raininghard,just outsidethe window,pleadingto get inas the peopleon theroads aresoakingrunningcoveringtheir heads;protectingthe waterin their bodiesfrom the waterin the rain.
FlutterRespect the silenceand become fluent inthe language oflid and lash ofbeat and-beat and-beat and breathof blood and sweat.Speak of my home encasedin flesh and bone;solemn in the flowof your breathing. Please,I beg you.
WildYou could never be strangers againin that void of charged spacebetween the eyes and the air.And the other people, who areless than faces in the crowd.Maybe it was a true dream ofdark times, always walking,you are thief protected by glossthat they could breakif only they knew how.The lion at the zoo couldjump the fence, the wolvescould dig beneath the glass.Safety is a mutual ignorance,and it is something to be remindedthrough wilds of the woods,that she has fangsand so do you.
HephaestusWe had this neighborwhen I was a boy,he was a bityounger than I was,his fatherrented the housenext door.He would come over,step over the knee-highfence thatseparated us.He would promise toshow us howto makefireworks.Daylight from ouryoung hands.He had us gatherall the petalsthat had fallenfrom our flowers.Dark violetsand blues.And once we hadpicked up allthe petals, hecupped his handsand threw themin the air.Wide-eyed andin wonder.I was disappointed,I expected him topull a lighter outand for somemysterious oilsin the flowers tocatch fire;to explode.I wantedreal magic.He threw them upagain, and I stilldidn't understand.
ImpatientIf you talk to anyone who waits at red lights or cares about fashion or owns a gun, they'll know a thing or twoabout all of us; all of humanity. We are all flowers, we are all little universes, we are all the underdog future.And maybe this is completely true, and maybe some girl pierced her ear in the 8th grade bathroom, and maybe youhave sand in your shoes from that visit to the beach last week. What does it matter, is this an absolute?We are all pieces of God, we are all forgetting about Heaven, we are all waiting politely for death to break inthrough the bathroom window. You can ask the stains on the sidewalk, the birds who refuse to build nests, thefaded black hair on the barbershop floor. They will tell you that this all does matter, and if you care about yourchildren, it's an absolute, too. Sometimes I run through traffic lights, wear half-unbuttoned flannel and scoffat the glory of firearms, but you can talk to me whenever you grab my shoulder and take a moment to stop s
WhitewashI am buying some teain a glass bottleon a college campus.Nobody is here after7pm, not even themonsters.Me,them-our collectiveloneliness.Everyone wants toget in their carsand find home.There islots of waiting.An old friend passes meon the stairs.We make jokesabout ourdisappointment.Hell is a quiet place.The silver token bottle capclings,then bends.
The holeI was walking, and then I
Loneliness At 4:03am Tick.Can't. Tock. Tick. Sleep. Tock.
Egggolden package in a lidless jar
Untitled (2)I would never fall in lovewith another poetAll that fragilityarrogancedestructionBinary starssupernovaKnife fightswith pieces of glass
GaspThere was nolife indanger, butshe pressed herlips to hisand breathedinto himall thesame.
ArrheniusThe birds arekeeping to themselvesthis eveningas the earth shiftsslightly-ever so calmly(for when you arethis powerfulyou only haveto move).Here and there, Iwitness thesebeautiful strangerswith perfect bodiesand long hairwalking down the roadin tightly knitted packs.They are animalslike we are animals-like we areanimals withoutclaws and fur,with scratches on ourskin that yields tofragile andfamiliar hands.The winds respondas quiet birds rushfrom telephone wiresin panic andin beauty; shetries to brush the hairdancing circles in her eyes(for when you arethis powerfulyou only have to move).
the first poem i wrote since i told you i love youthe star-soaked stainsthat covered our nuditygives way at lastto a tequila sunrise,so low in the sky;it's still bright enoughto sting my eyes,and yet i can't bring myselfto hate it.your body next to mine,every effort is madeto move a heavy limbcloserbecause any spacewe haveis space i don't want.i am sometimes humbledby my feelings,the way they swellin my throatjust how the oceantastes the shore.there is always something newto find hidden in my heart,summoned by my words,or the salt of your skinwearing like wind on shaleagainst mine.i don't think i can ever tell youi love you enough.if i could, i would never get dressedso that you could never be sad-a rewind every timemy clothes touch the floor,never anything but nude, not nakedbecause with you i can be bareand unafraid;i can let you see my entiretyand leave my arms uncrossed,i can let you inand not fear that you will break me,or force my inner things out.i can love you with open armsand my lip
SinThey say: Angels are ice and the demons are fire; But why must we hate what we desire? The burning, the yearning, the dark things we all crave; They say, ‘do not give in if you want to be saved.’ Want not, freeze your lust, quell our wrath if you can If not you will ruin the very name of man. Be pure, be innocent, repress that dark flame Or hell shall rise up and chaos will reign. But perhaps, just perhaps, the angels are the liars, Telling us it’s better to freeze Than to burn in a fire.
Like an Unfinished Love PoemShe calls him a poet but in truth he's just a dreamer with too many words in his head. He doesn't believe that he's fallen in love so he pretends to be a lovestruck stranger and writes how it might feel.When I touch her lips with mine,I'm not smiling,not feeling,breathing,I'm just living.When she said goodbye her heart pounded weakly against her heavy chest. With every pulse of blood through her veins she felt tension in her wrists; she was holding back, holding back. Her breastbone still feels like the wall of a jail cell her heartbeat thumping wildly like a prisoner begging to be freed. She wants to rip off her jacket because she's burning up inside.She was full of empty goodbyes and dreams that didn't last long enough.I've never been in love.Don't you think I would knowhow it feels?My body's a wreck,my eyes are stained with tearsmy heart is hot underneath my skin.I wonderNow that she's gone he's finally started to fall apart. It feels l
Breaking EvenBroke her heart.Broke his nose.
His Big BreakAssigned a non-speaking role.I'm speechless.
My Social LifeFamiliar faces,everywhere.Nobody I know.
Promises"Thank you.""For what?""Not leaving."
~cerealnovels, lonelinessLoneliness...individual landscape we all share.
The Heterophobic"I'm not gay," said his boyfriend.
The end of a relationship and beginning of anotherHate left me. Love found me.
LostBought a map:got lost anyway.
SW: Unless No One Was Listening"Stupid me!".........hear that? Nobody disagrees.
Writing AdviceThe key to building suspense is