1 Poetry

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Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A the sound of salt

Floating— saltwater soak; ocean air, breathing serenity into overactive lungs. I can hear the sea crashing, wavewhite into water-smoothed, weather beaten rocks and she is laughing.

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A rain-damp

Anne Sexton is on my nightstand when I tell you I am too tired to get out of bed. My bones are damp with rain and heavy with ache, waterlogged, and it storms every day now; such is the nature of autumn in Pennsylvania. I listen to the raindrops, count them, and...

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A of the people who have made impressions

One was pale skin and freckles, hair as copper as the pennies you’d pressed into your palms, sweat on your chest, fogged car windows, making it home by curfew. Always PG13, always wondering if you were enough to be loved, always wondering why he didn’t hunger for your body like the...

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A echoing of gunshots

*in memoriam i. Ambulance screams past the diner where I am waiting tables, waiting for a better chance at something, anything. Someone listening to their police scanners tells me it’s a gunshot wound. I assume I don’t know them....

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A when your voice is lost in an ocean of voices

Society says, when he pries open your legs, like a burglar pries open a locked door, do not fight him. If you are in this position, it is your own fault that you have left yourself vulnerable. When you come clean about it in an outcry, you will be dissected like a frog on the...

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A tonguelost

People used to wait for me with bated breath. This was when my hair was long and beautiful, when I used to keep longing between my teeth and the sounds of the ocean were tucked away in my cheek and when you kissed me, you said I was saltwater wonder. I was a sad story on the newsstand,...

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: love

A postpartum magic

When your husband tells you that your postpartum body is still beautiful, even more beautiful because of how you sacrificed yourself for the bundle of blankets laying and laughing between you on your bed, do not cut him off, do not chop down his words. He is...

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A canicule

. I am summer freckle-faced bright, wet, moss-eyed moments and sleeping winter bones.

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A to let go

After 9/11, they stitched patriotism into our spines and slapped away our fingers when we tried to touch the incision site. We were only fourth grade nothings, still malleable, so we learned to heal around shrapnel splinters by always expecting that brown hands on a bomb would dismantle us....

Miss Dahlia
Miss Dahlia 31 Dec 2017 Tag: lost

A sojourn

. I tend to make a home of people while people make a home of me and we are eternally matryoshka dolls, nesting in another's bones.

carlosjackal
carlosjackal 17 Dec 2017 Tag: Miscellaneous

A Fibonacci Snapshot of the Midnight and Twilight...

Shrimps' lives spent in beautiful...

carlosjackal
carlosjackal 10 Dec 2017 Tag: Miscellaneous

A Santa Euphoria

Evil intervening On a cold, dark evening You'll never take my wings Nothing so demeaning I am crocus On the verge Full bloom Emergent Exorcise the mistakes Of my parents in small takes The rain a reminder to me To always be patient in my dreams I am crocus On the verge...

carlosjackal
carlosjackal 08 Dec 2017 Tag: Miscellaneous

A Phat Rainbow Mornings

Spiritual wank of sorrow Drown in your flirtation tank Money like all gods is false Take something old Sell it as new Psychedelic honey Slung girls Never boogie voogie They fizz tang Peng the shit out of you With intelligence Depth and breadth and scope Silver Lee...

Ashe
Ashe 06 Dec 2017 Tag:

A Hypothermia

Bleed into me. Your woes. Your fears. I gladly carry. I could run the tips of my fingers across the faultlines of your life for hours, lips touching imperfections and anomalies alike Marveling the beauty of it all. Curling my hands in the mire of life as you made it Trying to find...

carlosjackal
carlosjackal 03 Dec 2017 Tag: Miscellaneous

A black tulip

damn these paper roses black tulip you're the one to...

saintedmad
saintedmad 07 Nov 2017 Tag: lifelike

A terribly pretty

so cry in you no one is god she sits in grey wind wondering how the world still knows she is alive, or dead? the fumes of old nocturnes smoke demons in familiar twists. she hums nothing well... good:: the same russian doll or christ like cull. she told herself none or all of...

tpu
tpu 22 Oct 2017 Tag: Sacrifice

A The Procession of Flame.

+--+ Often I wake. To a great distance, I focus my gaze through the window out past the gate, between the cloud and shadow's sway... There is a shape that moves in grey. Something like long robes from an olden age, draped over some great, grotesque frame. Treading tall...

carlosjackal
carlosjackal 20 Oct 2017 Tag: Miscellaneous

A Keep In The Rain

A Tuesday morning Comedy show Living life as a dream And a whirl As soon as we judge The art is fucked Open arms Showing kindness To a crow Like a post-orgasmic Bowie lyric You're no saint but You're still a sweetheart ​ Klitschko taught me patience Death taught me to love...

saintedmad
saintedmad 28 Sep 2017 Tag: dreamstate

A no dresses come in bloody alabaster

fool stop. if i go on, out of sheer buoyancy, the heart will decide to die at the point of contact; immediate and then some,how shimmer apocalyptic:light that i know damn well is blindness. so i keep still. if i seem closer now, like white words on sky, ushering you...

tpu
tpu 23 Sep 2017 Tag: Dream

A The Dreamer, and the Deceiver.

+--+ There was once a time, I could rid, all I had gathered, and speak to the trees. To the wind, to the water to the sun, to the soil. I knew their names. . . . When the wind would sing, pines would sigh remembrance and the...

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