Tag: book

Poem: Ballerina (night terrors)

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Poem: Ballerina (night terrors)

I can’t stop running
In my night terrors,
fever dreams
castles atop hills
adjacent mountains overlooking my horizon – my bleak path that has dimensions I can’t rise high enough to admire nor withstand.

Shirt on that says ‘cherry’
How cute am I, really?
How amicable I am in both public and in private
It’s a blue poem; let’s get ready for the skyrocket
I like the font, too
Of your handwritten note
It makes me want to put on my winter coat
Slide inside a mound of snow just because, just because? Just because.

Poem: Ballerina (night terrors) [continued]

Want to begin again, begin getting up earlier
Make my life a living portraiture
That I can close my eyes and find out later
If I lived it well enough,
The generativity versus stagnation phase
That’ll be me someday.
I’ll find myself in daisies
Perpetually in bloom, perpetually in bloom

The shadows of the clouds
How is the wavelength possible that I can see this through my rods & cones –
Sharp like lightning,
Frustrated like a little kid
I’m in favour of you, darling
Come, hold me tighter than anything.
You’ll be safe, always
In my soft, kind smile, & delicate arms
You know, I used to be a ballerina.

Poem: Ballerina (night terrors) [continued]

I used to have poise
& ignored all the boys
Growing up must have sucked the life out of me.

You know, I used to be a ballerina
I was so beautiful back then
I still get night terrors

Love poem: On purpose (urban legend)

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Love poem: On purpose (urban legend)

I knew I wanted you the first day I spoke with you
With you
With you
With you
Blue thermal t-shirt, I was wrapped up
In your sweet voice, your (not really) annoying jokes
I had forgotten I was down bad, dead broke
Time stopped the first day I spoke with you

Gold medallion, shine me like diamonds,
Kills me every time
I get out of bed to your text
I want to write home about it
Put silk through my teeth, be all combat with it
I’ll sit here on the floor and think about how complex

Love poem: On purpose (urban legend) [continued]

I can’t be asking for much
Got a lot, lot on my plate
I have copyrights, and files, and figures to analyze
But you’re this too charismatic
Works-all-the-time kind of guy
You know, oh you do know, how much you make me smile
That’s the danger of all of it
The tough nature, urban legend, cottage hill style
You have me stockpiled

I want to be, yeah, I want to be
Sitting on your bed with rain falling outside, waiting for you to come fall asleep
Next to me, yeah, you’ll be next to me
Kind of adoration you and I like to gate-keep
So, so frustrating
When I can’t reach through and get to you
At the gas station
Thinking about how nobody comes close,
To grabbing my veins like they’re candy
Laughing because you’re stuck in my head as clear, contractor’s glue
What am I going to do?

Love poem: On purpose (urban legend) [continued]

Stay silent because I’m mad about the last few days
Be the opposite of nonchalant
Either go back to, or completely change my ways
An orderly woman
A tendency to misbehave
A well-calculated lover
Functioning solo somewhere in an ambient haze
For days
For days
For days

Four days
For days
Four days
For days
Four days
For days

So I fell onto the marble floor and found opal silk marrying my medium blue craze
I miss you, never on purpose

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Poem: Seasonal cherries (displacement)

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Poem: Seasonal cherries (displacement)

He decided impromptu to get away for the weekend
I couldn’t even call him up
Kept my sentiments busy with the peonies, the sword ferns, the garden,
Difficult to look in the driveway & not see that matte-black, lifted truck

The cold, crescent, fever dream blues that surrounded me
I allowed them to peer into my skin
My delicate green veins from my light beige skin tone
I tried to catch him on the telephone
Though, I had no indication of where to begin.

Poem: Seasonal cherries (displacement) [continued]

I almost loved him, I think
Did say it by unintentionally a few times
Was I so wrong to confuse distance with association
I believe I was right – though I still paid the fine

And now truly, with all his irresolute conviction
He tells me he wants to be together
Well, boy do I have news for a man of your cadence
The thought requires me to hold on to one or four of your sweaters

Poem: Seasonal cherries (displacement) [continued]

I’m falling somewhere, but I don’t know where
Look down from the sky & I really don’t care
I’m falling somewhere, but I really don’t care
He’ll say it back to me when he’s least aware

I believe I was right
I paid the fine
I believe I was correct
Wrong place, right time

Poem: Seasonal cherries (displacement) [continued]

Cherry trees only grow in certain seasons
People do what they do for their own reasons
I am porcelain and snow and almond sweet
But I’d die in a living-room suite

Knowing that peonies only bloom in late spring to early summer
Exact timing depends on variety, location, and climate
Cherries come in season in late spring to early summer
So for now, I’ll just be quiet

I own, manage, and publish to my website all by myself, so I would so much appreciate it if you donated to support my craft: https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/lilacdoveCA

Poem: Ivory vacancy

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Poem: Ivory vacancy

Needles in my eyes
Twenty-five individual pieces
Kiss me before you say goodbye
Don’t let me walk home alone

I feel your presence
Even when you’re not beside me
Though there’s this ivory vacancy
Trembling a hole inside of me
It could be filled
If you would come closer
It could be gone
If you could spend the night

Poem: Ivory vacancy [continued]

I know that you’re testing me
By the way you speak to me
I can feel you testing me
By the way you act with me

I am invisible to everybody
But you
I matter nothing to nobody
But you
I think I like being in this field with
Only you
Laying down like it’s my last time
Just with you

Poem: Ivory vacancy [continued]

Nothing is vacant,
But the trees are fragrant,
And I’m not even going to tell you the things I think about day in and day out.

I’m a pale girl,
A true ivory “vacancy” motel sign

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Poem: Spoiled

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Poem: Spoiled

Vacillating upon soft pink ballroom spheres
I’m not the wrecked canister I used to be
You could say I’m much better
But I’m under the weather
Can you swim to me so we make sure I don’t drown.

Watching & welcoming the 405 freeway all around me,
The rosy glow in the sky above me,
Thinking I’m so lucky
Bare bones
Clandestine flesh
Give me more of what’s left of yourself
To keep
To hold
To have
To mold
My sacred entity
My entitled serpent
My king

Poem: Spoiled [Continued]

But I would not dare to risk it all
I’m a near-colourless, fifty-nine carat, princess-cut diamond ring
Thickened in winter with faux animal fur
Frosted like December Christmas trees
I found you by the lake
The look you gave told me to leave
So I found a secret cave underground
Where I could make-believe
That we would forever create an abundant fervency
Quartz flames, flushed stars, total internal reflection
Light as good as mine
Darkness as keen as the mystery that engulfs you

Poem: Spoiled [Continued]

If the cards were in my favour
You would always show up
If the cards were in my favour
You would show up for me

If the cards were in my favour
You would always show up
If the cards were in my favour
You would show up for me

Poem: Spoiled [Continued]

Spoil me with
What’s left of yourself

Don’t hold your breath
Like I’m holding my breath
Spoil me with
What’s left of yourself

I’ll take it
I’ll take it
To have
To hold
To mold
To keep

Spoiled

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