Archive for the 'poem' Category


Straight up ahead

Straight up ahead, look for me.
    You can't possibly miss.
I'll stand where you know I'd be.       
                            [posted for Sara as of date written]

As Composed

As composed as I will remember
myself to have been, my glass eyes
staring straight up past their light
far into the timeless reaching skies,
who will know the fury of my flight?

As composed as I will expect
my face to have been, my stiff lips
frozen on their final vow, their warm
outlasting a breathless moon's eclipse,
who will feel my vision's frenzied form?

As composed as I will cast
my will to have been, my dying touch
relaxing its hold on their white sheets
to spill ink behind me, a poem as such,
who will break the spell my word completes?       
                            [posted for Sara as of date written]

In So Far

                   Think: engross. Daydreams of sin?
                 blood overdose. Want I should go?
               extra close. Escape options are?
             from over. First word of an avatar.
         Same breath. Not gradable. As designed.
         I found all three stones you left behind.

                                   [posted for Sara as of date written]

Why Words

        Why did my words
        make it back alive?
        And not you? not you?
        nor you? nor you and you?
        Words are my new clothes.
        Back there I didn't use them
        but danced naked shamelessly
        and sang like in the beginning
        before everything had a name
        and got all dressed up in words.
        Only from your words
        do I now remember you.
        My words are a storm.
        Only from those that aren't yours
        can I tell who you're not.
        Our words cross.
        I can tell you apart from each other
        by which words you choose.
        Why do I remember you
        by a verb, not a touch?
        Why can I remember you
        by a noun, not your eyes?
        Why will I remember you
        by a word you've pronounced,
        not by an unfamiliar voice?
        David reads me every word.
        His voice cracked the dense dark
        to clothe my world with your word.
        He named each of you by your word.
        He gave you life by your poetry.
        He made you dance in my dreaming
        by the nuance of your song.
        I don't know you.
        I have only memorized you
        from what he has read me.
                Why word?
                Why not what I had
                back there before I heard
                or spoke it out aloud?

The Two of You

        There are two of you, aren't there?
        The two of you, to an only one left of me.
        That works. Don't we fit comfortably?
        I used David's pen. He had to be at work.
        I wrote you on the palm of my left hand.
        Allan took my right. He'll understand.
        I pressed my hands tight together palm to palm.
        You to him so close made cold skin sweat.
        Does that mean nothing? I forget.
        I rubbed the two together. I made you two pray.
        I mixed both hands' letters up inside my head.
        Love, words they made up said.
        You they tell me I'm supposed to have known well.
        Allan, not so, though already more than a name.
        Why do I see the two of you the same?
        I held my hands close everywhere on me I could reach.
        My feet, my hips, parts of my back, both breasts too.
        Nowhere was memory of you.
        I held my hands close everywhere on me I could touch.
        My thighs, my shoulders, all up in my hair.
        New you, I felt so everywhere.
        I held my hands close.  Everywhere on me I could scratch,
        I found a scar already there. Do any match yours?
        When all else dies, love endures.
        Your name.  His. I wrote the two of you on my hands.
        They're both blurred now. I held you to my eyes
        in tears a lifelong friend cries.

Protected: For Allan

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Not Enough

     Not enough dark to fill the night I left behind,
          not enough cold to take up the void I dropped,
               not enough pain to make it feel real again,
                    not enough heat to burn off the shame
                         of not having the strength to fight
                              to stay to know to die to see
                                   to touch that singular
                                        turning away I
                                             should have
                                                  done to

formal attire

short of breath

  • @magewing always and unfailing love thank you ○ 5 years ago
  • Cyn & Denise perfect love ferocious & open thank you ○ 5 years ago
  • @poetalias thank you ○ 5 years ago
  • all of it in good hands, as will be my child - thank you ○ 5 years ago
  • all of it now handed over so I can conserve remaining strength for my final creation ○ 5 years ago
  • how is it i remember what the word 'intrinsic' means, yet i can't figure out which beliefs are intrinsic to me vs having been read to me? ○ 5 years ago

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