Tag: poem

Poem: Ivory white bones

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roses, coffee, petal of a rose

I’m out of bed
Looking around
Like
This
Is
My
Life
And I live here
Breathe here
Lay in bed all day like I’m Lana Del Rey 
Nothing special
Cool like ice 
If I had someone to buy me diamonds that’d be nice 
And faux fur so soft that you think it’s mink 
I’m headed for a revolution, I think

Lately I don’t feel right
Something isn’t set in stone 
They’re small, my ivory white bones 
I wonder particularly what their colors are
I wonder if he can think about me when we’re displaced so far
Blueberries and coffee
Strawberries and pie 
I got tired of thinking I needed a guy 
I can pitch a tent and perfectly tie a tie 
I’m the one that gets to be the bad guy 

Sometimes I huddle up real small
It helps when there’s darling, sparkling rainfall 
I’m still scared of monsters
They walk on the streets 
I’m afraid of the boys that crawl into sleeping girls’ bedsheets 
Without saying a thing

You on my planet?  
I could use a friend
I have too many things to comprehend 
Too paranoid of my notebooks to be found
I close my eyes and I spin around 

I spin around
Touchdown 
Take me down
Just take me somewhere nice and let me spin for now 

Find me dead downtown

 


D O V E

I woke up today

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Dandelions
in the summertime

Keepsakes

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Love to have the breeze go by
stored memories

Your favorite band

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plays on the radio
feed your head


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Poem: Reflections on tobacco

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Reflections on tobacco

I’ve been occupying myself with novel things so I don’t have to think.

I’m gracious, I stopped smoking cigarettes

I didn’t smoke them because they made me feel good; I’d go out for the brief “thinking hour,” the time I had with myself. 

And if someone was smoking with me, I was still swimming somewhere near the branches of the distances pointing inward of my mind. Swimming in circles. Taking private jet planes. 

I think of picking the habit up again (foolish) just to rest my leg on the side of a closed storefront and come to terms with what is and what was. 

I can do that now, if I wanted to. But I don’t want to. Mold like clay. Sweet summer’s day. 

I hope I don’t meet anyone who smokes soon.

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Poem: Our warm bedroom

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Last night I had a poem stuck in my head
And I did nothing about it as I lay in my bed
It was about the golden days in Chicago ,
When we lived in that small apartment
And we were so happy.

I was tossing and turning
Trying to get it out of my mind
And all of those words I came up with, I soon left behind
I chose not to write about those wonderful days
That I romanticize, just a little
You have to romanticize everything
Just a little
That’s how you go on living

Someday I’ll go mad because I won’t remember
How cold it was when we moved in on September
How much joy I got from the fire escape
As it looked upon the downtown, so far away
You could hardly catch a glimpse
But with my cigarette lit
I was in heaven.

I was in pure heaven.

Poem: Swimming pools

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Butterflies
In your swimming pool
I’m writing in my notebook
About feathers and freedom
What we used to think being an American meant
About global dreams
Obscure visions
Broken televisions
Why don't you ever compliment me?

I smile when you smile
You,
On the diving board
Laying there like a dead squid
Makes me giggle
Just a little
I’m playful in your arms
No entanglements
We are one of a kind
We talk about it
Like we’re in middle school
Like we’re too cool to be cool

It’s cold, but we pretend it’s summer
Spend Tuesdays by the swimming pool
Catching the sun’s rays
Wondering when we’ll be saying goodbye