Tag: female poet

Poem: One letter sent, one letter kept (lunar crater)

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Poem: One letter sent, one letter kept (lunar crater)

Even the smallest meteorites can make a dent
A shower in the afternoon, music absolutely must play
I can’t give my mind too much space
Tried to hate you, but the action is impossible for me
A sensitive, contemplative queen
Take inspiration from the female main character on my television screen

Dying to spend time outdoors
Perfect place to talk with you
Where nobody can yell
Keep up appearances, keep moving forward
Naturally, I’d be stopping to take photographs of plants
Though I am truly interested to hear how you draft
Your words so carefully and yet,
They still hurt
My own oblivion—how unusual; it’s a first
Why people search for someone to take accountability
Finally makes perfect sense to me
It would mean everything
Though I have no expectations
Now that’s truly uncharacteristic of me

Poem: One letter sent, one letter kept (lunar crater) [continued]

Hold myself close
Hold myself close
Favourite Radiohead song for when I’m depleted
Not what I wanted, perhaps what I needed
To relate to how people in certain circumstances feel
I don’t like it
But I’m committed
To better understand the world
I want fresh florals and my favourite perfume
The sunshine is out there for those that feel consumed
By hospital bills and mental notes
It’s precious, our time, so I’d like to enjoy it
But we’ll never move on if we don’t address it
Neither the one affected nor the one who bears it

It’s shared, can’t you see?
I believe in harmony
Have learned I can never convince somebody to promise me
It’s better like that
The effort sure does count
I’m seeing blue
I think of you

Poem: One letter sent, one letter kept (lunar crater) [continued]

I’m in a gown, I’m ready
The water can take me
Reshape me
She only writes this much when her heart is breaking
Turning hobbies into routines
Cut-outs from magazines I’m framing
Made me feel ill, vomit on a television screen
The way you talk to me
It feels so mean
Your absolute favourite colour is also one of mine
Sage green

Don’t be dramatic
It’s just television static
None of it truly qualifies as far-fetched or theatric
You said there’d be plenty of room
For me
In the dusty attic
I looked for my favourite pen and a piece of A4-lined paper
My words had a breathtaking honesty that made me proud of myself
Celestial equator, vintage coffee maker
Elegant movie-maker
Pretty little lunar crater

One letter sent
One letter kept
If things change, it could be a new beginning
If they don’t, I’ll begin anyway
The sunshine is out there
For those that feel like running away
But once the meteorite hits,
A lunar crater forms
Prettiest thing I think I have ever seen
True harmony

I write essays on Substack now! Lilac Dove 🙂
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Poem: Sitting by the fire (happy birthday)

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Poem: Sitting by the fire (happy birthday)

You know, we grew up with nothing
I found such obscurities so luxurious
My life was so simple
Eerily simple
Because every wrong turn meant
More chaos
Bewilderment
Not the delicate kind
But fine for my patient mind

Driving a lifted pickup truck has changed who I am
It made me more myself than I ever knew before.
I’ve become real acquainted with different types of screwdrivers.
And I remember when my daddy would hot-wire all the cars on the street
That didn’t stop him from feeling absolutely everything
Cross necklace on my clavicle to remind me of what that means to me

Poem: Sitting by the fire (happy birthday) [continued]

As the sun was setting after I exited the nail salon,
I saw four separate chemtrails moving in cable-thin directions,
Combusting as a whole constellation.
I’m in love with my dark, dark, dark green eyes

Drove down Venice Boulevard, and it reminded me of being thirteen,
When everyone my age made fun of me,
but my father insisted that I was a queen
And that to me held much more meaning

Trying to buy sour patch at the liquor store, but they’d kicked me out cause I didn’t have
Proper identification
Now I find myself in my new life and I’m feeling so
Impatient.
Because this life isn’t going as planned and I have to switch gears
I’ll tell you all about it,
But each passing day I find myself facing new fears.
For you
And myself, too!
Because that’s what I do.

Poem: Sitting by the fire (happy birthday) [continued]

Curled up in a blanket,
Watching television and drinking tea
While upper-class people go on holiday,
I just be where I be.

I’ve got a smile so warm we don’t need a fireplace

& I miss the long summer days
Biking throughout our small town
My dad beside me, laughing, as I swam against the
Current of the waves
Making sure I didn’t drown
I know it in my being that he is still around
Like the lights descending from the helicopter
When I’m taking photographs of downtown

Poem: Sitting by the fire (happy birthday) [continued]

I miss quiet times with tea
Ukrainian pears that are overwhelmingly sweet
And if you get close to me,
You’ll have to bear with me
Because I see beauty in absolutely everything.

Like a rocket ship constructed out of Legos,
I’ll be there if anything were to break
The vibrant sunlight hitting my retinas while I’m driving,
I’ve fully realized this is my life to make.

I don’t take for granted
That people don’t offer second chances
But I’m forgiving like an animal that knows you didn’t mean it

Poem: Sitting by the fire (happy birthday) [continued]

And I mean it

I love
Absolutely
Everything
The fiber of my being
The freedom inherent in walking
Around a small town that was yours and now it’s become

A breeding ground for memories
That I will never let go.

Happy birthday, dad
You were so warm we didn’t need a
Fireplace

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Love poem: Sweetness in February

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Love poem: Sweetness in February

Sometimes I look at, my flowers that have died
And I find them more beautiful than when they were alive.

Last year, my family got the most beautiful, dark-green noble fir Christmas tree we ever had
In a pop-up parking lot full of his friends
I personally found him more appealing before he was decorated
Then I cut 6 inches off my hair
No more split ends

Love poem: Sweetness in February (continued)

Somebody stole our Christmas ornaments from the car
The little cute animals my mother and I laughed about when we saw them in a store forever ago
I hope they felt happy in their new home,
Wherever they ended up,
I just hope they weren’t disposed.

Some people – you start to feel disposable to them,
Like the sweetness you carry doesn’t bear any weight,
Like it means nothing that whatever stories they tell you, will never be shared with a single soul
Not used as small talk to break the ice
Never told at “parties”
That I imagine I’d be attending with my future lover because other people have families & other people have friends & other people have obligations & events
Birthdays to attend
& other people might wonder why I’m not there, and I want to be more than polite for I’m awfully curious
About that sort of life.
I pretend I’m not but,
I really am.

Love poem: Sweetness in February (continued)

I didn’t want you for your money or what you promised me
I was just so calm when I would laugh with you
You introduced me to emojis
Now I use them constantly
You’re well aware I love cuteness
I know you favour my modesty
Something got in our way
You may not want to admit it was from both sides
I never knew you that well
Though of course I still cried

Come to my front gate
Wait in front of your car
I’ll wear the outfit I picked out
At the very start

Come to my front gate
To see me, now
I’ll wear full-on sweats
So you have nothing to think about

Love poem: Sweetness in February (continued)

But I know you a little more than I think I do
Who knows if I’ll ever find out if that’s true
I know you a tiny bit more than you think you do
Who knows if you’ll ever understand that it’s true

Sometimes I look at, my flowers that have died
And I find them more beautiful than when they were alive.

Valentine’s Day is coming up…!!!!

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I own, perform maintenance on, and of course write all of my poetry by myself – and any amount could really help keep the dream alive! https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/lilacdoveCA

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me

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Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me

My day in the blistering sunshine
I wish your hand was latched onto mine
Except when you held it too tight, it hurt, and I said nothing because I was engulfed in the ivory, acrylic paint of the walls
I wish you could soothe me like you do your male friends

I got, rather presumptive
I thought we could make it work because it felt so worth it
Like the tides would change & our circumstances wouldn’t get the best of us
When I fell into old subservient patterns,
That I thought I wouldn’t
I said, screw it
We could work through it
But the tables that turned against me had thorns
My blood wasn’t well & I was increasingly worn
Down by the extent of which, I wanted it to work
A violent but quiet discomposure

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me (continued)

Down by the bayside
I’ll never forget when an acoustic version of a song I loved in middle school (still do) came on
You threw your head back and sang so softly
I found it mildly alarming how awfully charming
And crisply ambient the evening felt right then and there
My eyes started to tear, and I wiped them real fast
I thought if it could be like this, we’d be golden
Nothing to take & everything to give
That is the drawback to my diplomacy
It doesn’t quite work out for me

Now I’m basking in the feverish sunshine
Hearing the lyrics in my mind
How true they conform to the set of conditions that unveiled my gentle but muted position
I wanted all of it to feel just like that
Right then and there, I was far too aware
That you are a beautiful human being only when you get what you want

Love poem: If you could, just, sing to me (continued)

But I can’t always play the right song
And moments in passing affect my brain far too strong
I latch on

If we could have just stayed at that stop light forever
We would’ve made it work
If you could have sang lullabies to lull me to sleep
We still couldn’t have made it work

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Poem: Choking on grapes

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Poem: Choking on Grapes

It was on purpose
It wasn’t a mistake
I got
Frostbite
From choking on splinters
Peeling them like grapes

Thin as a needle
You make it seem easy
The ploughing is destroying the peyote
And I have created a party for you, the reason for my demise
I’ve been so intrigued ever since you rolled down the window for me to feel the breeze

You will always have the medicine with you
Wherever you go

Poem: Choking on Grapes, continued

In Texas, I felt free because the gas was cheap, and I had salt in my
Teeth
Washing my brand-new blue jeans
Wheat fields and a can of cola, riding in the bed of a truck looking over my shoulder
Tired of having nobody to say anything to
I feel alone and even though I’m used to it
I still have to shrug it off, it seems
A fig tree standing for no one

Pharmacology is lovely & my favourite toothpaste is by Arm & Hammer
I drive to the nearby Rite Aid, where I get a lottery ticket for my mother
Mixing up my favourite numbers
I never win, but she swears I’m so lucky
I couldn’t spell it out right if you had the guts to call me
The ravens in the sky figured out how to fly
In ways that make girls and boys want to order cameras that run on film
See a kid skateboard home and it’s like it’s 2008
And my hair is blonde
A lavender bush smiling for no one

Poem: Choking on grapes, continued

Cut in half an apricot
Can run for miles; dimes are all I got
My backpack is lilac, because I want the items I own to be beautiful
To represent a part of me that feels eternal
Colour schemes and fever dreams
I get lost
Upside down
Tangled in between two separate swings
Lose and find my favourite things

It must have been on purpose
It was no mistake
Soft cotton
Precious limestone
Overflowing bookcase that survives California earthquakes
Girls are selling their poetry on Instagram and I’m

Still broke
Choking on splinters
Peeling them like grapes

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