Tag: poetry
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Earth[in] Blood
There is [wine] in the cup. The foamy surface clings to itself and the cup and the flesh that tested its integrity and strength.
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Dream Journal: 2016-09-30.01
I dreamt… Of cruel gods and crueler intentions. Of misery extended by acts of kindness. And understanding withheld lest the heart fails completely. I dreamt… Of game pieces held in place against inertia. Of webs pulling trapped limbs in unnatural bends. And the silencing of the fervent prayer lest the game ends prematurely. I dreamt……
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Someone Else’s Story
“It’s like this see…” But you don’t see. The marks and squiggles bleed into knots. And the words are harsh against your ear. “And then, it happens…” But you remain unmoved. The epiphany never reveals itself. And the rocks gain a better understanding than you. “Once it’s all over…” But for you it never begun.…
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Hysteresis
Breathe in. Drown. The weightless flow of ageless time rushes in to fill my lungs until there is no room for air nor blood. Breathe in. Drown. The boundaries hemorrhage as the walls break apart and still my lungs are invaded until they burst inward. Cease. Fall. The soul dissolves in the flood of Before…
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The Plea of the Fading Ember
Pour into my veins. Drive out the salt and the water. Be the presence that holds me up. And the force that drives me forward. Infect me, each and every cell. Rewrite me until I require you to live. Inoculate me from forgetfulness. And prepare me for the moment of my passing. Weaken my grasp…
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Hungry
How many gods does it take to satisfy. A poem.135 words.
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A Wildfire (in Southern California)
I am the bastard son of the sky and the ground. Sprouted whole from my mother’s sundered flesh. Implanted as she shuddered from my father’s intrusion. This biting weed I am. No root. All bloom. No comfort. All rage. I am the howling bitch that roars and devours. My children spread from me, and I…
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The Mountain
It’s only stone. Just a whole lot of it. In one homogenous lump. That not even lichen has colonized. It’s only stone. It doesn’t feel. It only is. And it’s in my way. It’s only stone. It doesn’t adapt. But I do. And this too, I will pass over.
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Sunset
A car’s horn shouting obscenities at the driver. The ice cream truck dropping the beat. The salvage truck is dragging the chain again. I see but can’t hear the little feet. The birds are making new grudges in the trees. The kids are teasing the dogs again. The summer party is spilling out into the…
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A Delicate Flower
It was too small and frail for me to steal. Which is good. I didn’t want to commit such violence upon it. The flower was smaller than the tear that raced down my cheek after I tripped and fell in the abandoned lot. I missed crushing it by a generous inch. I held my breath…