Poem: Surveillance footage of Heaven

Poem: Surveillance footage of Heaven

An inner emptiness that you can’t translate

Sea urchins watch me spin like a landslide
Unsure what comes next
Not sure if I’ll pull through
Lavender sea bed, schools of orange fish with blue stripes
I breathe every chemical in, and I’m doing so fine

He doesn’t call to come over
I got a dog that comes when called
Didn’t expect that to be
But it fits me quite nicely
She lays against my running shoes
As though they belong to the godly Earth
Call my mother and tell her I’m doing so fine

Poem: Surveillance footage of Heaven: Continued

You come across as
Tender
But you’re more violent than the tornados found in Oklahoma, Nebraska, and the South of Dakota
The plain states which are far from plain, because the bartender knows your name even before you walk in and order what the masses are having

There is a certain irony to how he shows callousness to the world
It so evidently depicts what he tries to hide
Myself, I’ve given up staying wide awake to wonder why,
As there are lavender flowers with higher powers than standard protocol would lead you to believe
I tremble on flat ground, but am most composed where it’s rocky
Try to remember what it was like, but my eyeglasses become foggy

A raindrop in the company of a million oak leaves
Desperate for its singular, idealized attention

You have to be observant without reading too much into certain things
I’ll fade in the summer months, but come up vibrant with the snow in February
Callow and shy, but on Neptune the temperature is
Humid like a riverbed overflowing with algae
Extracted for supplements you find at the natural food store
You only walk in because the weather is poor
(Doing laundry and then doing laundry again because you’re bored)

Tender spirit
Your affection is like
Surveillance footage I watch on repeat

This dog comes when called
I think this is heaven, after all

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Poem: A million shelves

Welcome to my poetry website! Pink poems are love poems & blue poems are more general “life” poems. Each poem is interrupted by photographs and ends when you’ve reached the SoundCloud portion. I’m currently testing a Push notification application. xx

Poem: A million shelves

A maroon carcass that rests gently on the edge of the seashore
Fresh propane tank
Exclusively at your local corner store
Wearing my baby blue doll dress
Headaches from thinking about it

What we’ve been through
I see it in the corners of this melting igloo
Turn up the temperature
Sit on the fire escape, heavenly embrace
Homemade campfire, fire burning up your home
As the water droplets cascade down
I see fiber nectar start to turn upside down

Look through the hole on your door
To see who’s been knocking all night long
Cut the stems from fresh flowers in that old vase
Hasn’t lost its sparkle
The years are like lightning cables, but I’m so stable
Looking through the hole in my door
To see who’s been scraping at my windshield all night long

A poem about choosing whether to renovate oneself.

Such a romantic scene, velvet slippers & cleaning-service-fresh satin
Mop up discarded memories
I aim to please, I aim to please
Now I put myself first
And the whole world is to burn
Too busy listening to jazz to look through the hole in the door
You can leave a note
You can leave a note

Notebook paper by my bedside
Ash covers my deep green eyes
You’d think I’d be surprised
That disks of memories still replay in my mind
While I drive in the rain
Smiling, smiling all the way
Thunder shifting my car
Absolving into the reminisce that is the end of this year

Turn up the temperature
Sit on the fire escape
You tell people not to do what you really want them to
Leave a note
Leave a note

Be the bigger man
Nine minutes until the fan
Turns off for the evening & I’m left to writhe in this heat

Look after me
Don’t look behind yourself when you walk down the street
Holding a pomegranate smoothie
Writing my website in sharpie on street signs

Be the bigger man
Cradle your face in your hands
Turn up the temperature
Turn off the faucet
Sit on the fire escape
Leave a note and then toss it

The trash can that held a million versions of your most real self

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