Poem: Payphone (the curtain falls)

Poem: Payphone (the curtain falls)

A generation’s ills
A dazzling medieval palace for my deep affection for bridal gowns
With pearly white coffins moving mountains to tell me that
Someone more important has taken my place
With a soft-haven silhouette
She has the loveliest face
For a world where nobody remembers your name

A cave where I kept
A bibliography of sorts
I spent days citing sources to be able to go back
In time
To find
Myself locked in gates I never swallowed whole
The vicinity was clear and
I, so struck by fear,
Lost my train of thought on the train where I forgot
My passport and my engagement ring
The prettiest doll face
The saddest little thing

If death is an escape, why isn’t anybody telling me where those people went
They only let you in to certain places if you know certain people
And I
Found something very dark
About the way, he got away
With crimes in broad daylight
The pigeons wouldn’t wait
I think I’ve passed Hell now
But now I’m insane
And I don’t know
When it’s too late to be too late
I set it on fire
Such a beautiful gate
It poured like peroxide
The same bitter taste

It’s a terrace for evenings that run like wire circuits
It’s so terrifying to look back
I’m young, I’ve got this
I can’t think like that
I have to stay on track
Summer’s passing by in too fleeting of ways for me to react
Every other person seems on the verge of collapse
I cannot find reason
Living in Timelapse
Memory for memory’s sake
Is such a sad fact

‘Within reach’ says my lavender bedroom wall
I believe it most days
Some days I don’t think
I think in this chaos we’ll unwind and then sink
Into the pavement with the solace that comes with
Holding eternity for eternity

I was so close
It passed me by
No lexicon is sufficient to surrender what I’ve hindered
Crawl under the bedsheets for the sheer familiarity
The cotton, like childhood
Is lost by the evening
I can’t focus on anything when I’m thinking about everything
And if you saw vividly through me and felt I was sinking

Would you be forward, address it
Ignore it, regret it
Pay a debt that nobody else is around to pay
I really thought I had it but his look was so
Cold
It startled the aseptic daylights out of me
It felt a lot like tragedy

And if someone more important has taken my place,
Do I want to know his name?
Or which face
To look for when I see thousands looking for someone else

If an entire life could be a regret
How is my small frame to persevere at all
The show has ended
The curtain falls

You stand at the payphone
With no one to call

The show has ended
The curtain falls

paypal.me/LilacDoveCA

Love poem: Pink cashmere daydream

Love poem: Pink cashmere daydream

A penchant for swimming in rivers too deep to be my abyss
In fragile momentum, I find
Apricots
And shades of silver lightning
Collapsing interwoven honeyed harmonies that indicate a linear adoration
Cut like a crisp stone scattered in orchestration but ruined by damage
That seeped up when I went to sleep and I found that to be the last drawback
I sailed too fast
I redact my last remark
I kissed you too fast
Didn’t know where to start
So I plunged so far ahead of time I thought I almost lost you but
In your pink cashmere sweater you said I was better
Than all the last ones combined
And I laughed
Softly
Globally
Hopefully

Alone in the car, I stared at the floor
The bitter horror found me gazing at whatever was familiar
I took the cobblestone and I built a new throne
But it felt so empty sitting there all alone
You know the name of every anatomical bone
And your collarbone is like morning ballet on a fresh Sunday, holding white roses for performers
Putting your arm around me
Chemicals of amphetamine
Pink cashmere daydream

Holier than heavy black tar
That we cleaned like available vacuums at a self car wash
Dispensable
Agreeable
A comfort to the chaos
A detachment so surreal
You kept moving my long blonde hair because it covered my eyes
And that
Bothered you
Slightly
I’m too shy to figure out why
I wouldn’t dare say you wanted to
See me
In the wild
Winter storms for cars that have poor engines
Screwed up transmission
To be by your side at a fireplace
That’s Sunday for the moon to bear witness
That Sunday when we drank tea and
Truly engaged, we
Smiled for long periods of time
As the world passed us by,

I looked across the field and I saw what you meant about how the haze seems so foggy
So transgressed
You find clouded cataracts in vast open skies
You find evening channels on the television
Your visor doesn’t fit you
My baseball caps need to be adjusted
We split caramel lollipops into two and talk about all the things we’re planning to do
I believe in you
I truly believe in you

The gas station where your face becomes rosy-pink because I paid you a compliment
Or three
You’re blushing
It’s charming
And yet so disarming
Because I’m just a girl and I don’t know what I’m doing
And you
So self-assured
So on path, so on-course
Layered within your default settings of adjustment tendencies
I’m small
So small
Like a stone
In water
Always underwater
Always plunging down
Always in sheer phosphorescent shadows of blue
And I make my way to you
And you tell me to go pay the cashier
I read your last name on your credit card
Not once
But twice

I make my way
Back to the station wagon with your favourite chips
And Mountain Dew
Good with navigation
Reads maps for the sheer delight of it
The fruits of our labor
Rear mirror directed towards you for you to put light pink lip gloss on
Like a Princess
Like a fairy tale
Like diamonds
Like matcha green tea lattes that you pay for out of sheer hospitality
Because you’re older

Because you’re older
Getting rosy-pink cheeks
I said you were sweet
You’re playing the song I have a tattoo of on my thigh on repeat
Because you’re so sweet
Because you’re older
Because your cheeks are rosy-pink

Can’t miss a single second
I try not to blink
Don’t want to miss a single thing
I try not to blink

Because you’re older
Because you’re so sweet
Because your cheeks are rosy-pink

I try not to blink

paypal.me/LilacDoveCA

Poem: Growing up (I’m a grown-up)

Poem: Growing up (I’m a grown-up)

I wanted to be all grown up
I wanted to be all –

In the summertime, I’m ravished by a thousand medallions
Fragrances of June feathers and soft remembrances
Sparkling streamers commemorating my absence from the Heavens
And credit cards saying they’ll spend all their worth on me
All their worth on me
The flowers are wilting just for me
I see you put up walls to cover your misery
You know brick and mortar can’t overpower me

We knew we’d eventually separate into two
Composite values
For which an absolute is not a resolute conception
And my evening dress is
Too sophisticated to mention
An evening made for redemption
I can tell you’re apprehensive
Always having bad days
In your chosen remote location for being pensive
He said I was filled with love, his daffodils only turning up lust
So much that I’ve gathered has turned to dust
And I’m waiting, praying, I don’t combust
Memory’s spears have had enough

In trying times, we cut the lines that separate your horizon from mine
And we’ll get through this, every little moment
Is a chance for us to know what we didn’t before it
I’m afraid but I don’t show it
I have to pay, but to whom do I really owe it?

Next to paradise canyon and the dooming, glooming waterfalls
I look across a thousand strangers’ faces
Crisp and green, tinted-pink eyeballs
I’m made of riches
And I think this itch is
Giving me a headache like when you lie in your bed awake
And you don’t know how much more laughter you can take
You don’t know where Eden’s best diamonds are made
And whether your loss is a loss, or if it’s fate
I chose not to eat my birthday cake
I almost threw up from the bitter taste
You said honey wait, yeah okay, I’ll wait
A thousand streams in my mind for me to paint
I love making you melt, watching you cascade
When is too late, really too late?

I want you crestfallen in an amber honeypot from Hell
I want to bathe in the remaining residual prime numbers from orthodox haven
I want your miscalculations to sound like compliments
Watering my house plants
Completing my silly little routine tasks

Your lies are a chore and your cradle is where you were born and this city is what we will go on to forever mourn
Several traced pathways to the kingdom we couldn’t seize
Drinking strawberry soy ice cream milkshakes
Like how much more is it gonna take
Like how much more time am I throwing away
How many more birthdays to memorize for the sake of remembering dates
I lost my sanity somewhere where I said goodbye
To all the people that died slow deaths begging for me to stay
I made it to the pink, comforting, but swollen cave
And I thought about my biggest mistakes
Days passed as I made my way through the trenches
To find your favourite New York City bench, which is
The place of sentences interlaced back and forth
In a crochet-knit paradise of conventions
Where you were too handsome for me to mention
Any hesitation or break in my thought patterns

Like whether love was all that really mattered
When I’d stay up late, crystal daisy-filled vineyards I would destroy before you rose with the sun
I could have sworn I was coming closer
But I was the only one
And I am the only one
Calling you from this telephone booth
Telling you I think I’m ready to grow up now

Do you have some time to find me now
To figure me out
To spend days with a girl in a blue satin dress
That took several hours getting dressed
Because inherently she thinks she’s a mess
And romance can bring impending stress
When you don’t feel that you are, the portrait of your complete best

Can I come home now
I’ve been alone now
In this telephone booth with a line forming around the corner
And if I were yours, I’d put everything in order
But twice is too much, and you thrive on disorder

I’m all grown up now
Can I come home?

I wanted to be all grown up
I wanted to be all –

Love poem: Fine craftsmanship (prayers)

Love poem: Fine craftsmanship (prayers)

Wild sweet jasmine
To be your
Ruby red grapefruit, in the evenings
I created the end, and I made it into a new beginning
Cowboys on ranches far away
White carnations
Love letters – February through May
The bitter ruins of my golden but soft decay
My work is my turmoil, my kingdom is where I’ve come home to play
Twirl my hair around thorns, like the ocean
Softly sway
Hips in the distance
Grey fossils, treasured finds
A new day, a fresh surprise
My loving green eyes

Tan corduroy jacket
Your bitter resentment
Hollow times with crisp features
A medieval castle for which the chambers held me too tightly
At an uneven slant
A rug on the floor of rather ravishing woodwork
Fine craftsmanship
Estranged notices
French boutiques
Dolls, eerily
Arranged
In singular form
Entranced forever
When you say your prayers, who are you saying them to
Do you believe they can hear you?

John Wayne’s face engraved on a keychain I bought in a tiny town in Texas
The boys were awfully nice
They said the funniest things
I could imagine, I could imagine
Turning suddenly
Away from the shore
Hardly ever get bored
Always waiting for more
Deftones on megaphones
White leather cowboy boots, whatever fashion means to you
It means nothing to me; I’m so at peace in the wild country
I want to be smothered in everything
I want the most handsome boy in the entire world to come marry me

A sticker peeling off a cup, washed one too many times
I saw what you wrote in your letter
I thought you hinted at
Despondency
It was transparent
So fluid I almost didn’t have to read between the margins
You held your gaze low
I knew what you were about
I can ache but I can hardly shout
Not a day goes by where I don’t rearrange my doubts
And I may mean little to you, but that’s something to think about
The violent vehemence of what this rendition says in whispers to you, me
My small town
My spam risk
My desolate, brisk characteristics like islets of weakness and Beethoven
Beaming down the hallway
Fresh-faced, rosy
She’s so pretty, she’s so pretty, she’s so graceful & pretty
Mid-16th century dream queen

Am I reminiscent of anything that bores you to death
Amphitheaters of despair
Hold me
Unfold me
Run wild with me

Be forever unafraid with me

Who do you say your prayers to
Do you really believe they can hear you