Monday, May 4, 2009

I got bored with the old poems (and also, I seem to have misplaced my notebook somewhere in the move (which upsets me very much! It took me forever to get all those into one notebook!!))
so here are a few new ones.
[footnote: I don't know why I write introductions like this here.]
[footnote2: when I write, I take something that happened and weave images from it. It could be a picture I saw, a phrase I heard, something that happened to someone I know, a friend of a friend of a cousin of an uncle of a friend. I take one thing and build until it becomes something that moves people, in any sort of fashion.
All poems are based on something that happened,
but none of it is real. It is all fiction.
An illusion. A delusion.
So when you get to the last one, don't take it to heart.
I don't know anyone who would behave in such a manner.]

he threw paint at
the windows, the walls, the
beds, covering
in this ghastly (ghostly)
yellow, brighter than
the sun.

it is necessary,
he preached,
to hide all memories-
rid ourselves of every
single thought
that contains her.

all i wanted to do
was hold her.
i wanted my breath
to slow slow slow
and the frantic beating pounding
of my heart
to still stop and
quiet just as
her own fragile
had done.

i wanted to wrap her
up in that soft
sea green blanket,
the one that
off-set the
putrid blue
her skin had turned.


, n. The quality of being redolent; sweetness of scent; pleasant odor; fragrance.

my hands are starting to
smell like his,
the nicotine soaking in my skin,
staining through my blood
down to my bones.

i will smoke until
the day he dies and
forever after.

when i miss him, i will
fold my hands
like mother taught me,
holding them
under my nose
and breathe in deep
so deep,
wishing the sweet scent to
follow the air
and course through my veins
to my heart,

where he would stay
and be with me,
watching and caring
and making sure
i was safe,
like he'd always done.


n. 1. A monster; a false conception; a mass of fleshy matter, generated in the uterus
[Earlier, unformed embryo (from the supposed influence of the moon).]

it seemed so odd
such an awkward
to sit in that room
with it's comfy couches,
iridescent green
plants and couples,
chatting, acting as if
they do this
all the time
like this is their normal
monday plan.
they sat around,
doing homework and
writing up grocery lists-
oranges, a carton of milk,
eggs, for irony-
while i sat and tried
not to vomit (again).

i waited for her
to walk out of that room
and fall into my arms,
sobbing and needing

hours later, she pranced
out bright eyed and
fresh-faced, like always,
grabbed me around
the waist and we danced
off, her singing in my ear,
how utterly
necessary a drink
is now that she didn't
have to worry about
that growing thing
inside her.

No comments: