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College Admissionshe snuck into the back of the room
with his sun-chapped knuckles
and his farmer's son burnt skin
he listened with his quiet mouth
drawn in a line taut with tension
he stalked back out with his hat tipped low
defeated long before t'd even begun
i wish him all the luck i do not need to have
7th Peroid English: Day TwoI watched your face light up
A smile so wide it broke my skin
Old, stitched-scars torn open in slight seconds
Your eyes, ever-catching, stood me in stillness
Undealt with emotions flickered too quickly
My mouth spoke before I thought and
With a breath I did not know Id drawn
We both allowed the moment to pass
an august poem**inhales**
i want to tell you about what you did to my insides just now
you made me remember what was lost
that silly little innocence mingled with guilt
where i used to bumble and you would laugh
but not at me, no, never at me
i want to touch your face and all those soft irish laugh lines
i almost made myself stop living in the future today
too much possible pain and too much ungrounded certainty
where all those high-voltage lines i've spun could dust-i-fy
ever since you've been around, however, so long or brief
with your earthen feet and dreamer's sight,
you were the rock that has helped me discover just who i want to be
i want to see your hands fit, always oh-so-perfectly, into the spaces of mine
Beth's Photoi have secretly coveted it
until i wore myself down with disgust
it's chisel-teeth gnawing the bottom
of the cell i have chained Envy to
sly, she-devil Envy has kissed my temples
poisoning the corners of my sand-glued eyes
she wants me to believe
that i hold no memeory of it
of your enamoration seeking mine so desperately
Untitled 22i have never had dreams the way that you do
so vivid and morning-hour lasting
i am tired of pressing my palms to the windows
staring at the green glitter skin of the earth
i want these things that you can't give to me
i can only do these things inside my own my mind
because the world won't accept them as they are
or cannot accept them because the people see it in themselves
but, unlike you my unlucky irish man i have hope
i'll carry it in my pocket, smoothen over like a river stone
Untitled 23i wanted to slap you
for eveything anybody like me had been through
it is not my sexuality that determines who i am
who i am determines my sexuality
i will not sleep with another woman for you
so you can get off on the sight of such barbarianism
her body is her own, not for your carnal delight or mine
she weilds her own goddess-pixie power when she wishes
you stupid stupid boy
the truth about growing up
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
LullabyHush, my baby,
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
Darkest MoonI celebrate my right to live;
To the dismay of some, perhaps
It should be noted
These words I write, however true
Are only portions of the moon
I’ve decide to shine light upon.
But who am I to preach respect?
Who Am I to preach equality?
An advocate for re-personification
Of the female gender
But exhibits cannibalistic characteristics
Within dark spaces.
I am a shadow
Hidden within an Eggshell, painted pink,
Waiting to hatch.
Is the darkness
The night brought upon us.
Stranger's funeralUnder the clouds
Under the rain
Staring at the coffin
At a stranger's funeral
We're all alone
Feeling the storm
But not the pain
For he's but a stranger
And the graves around us
Are just there
Keeping us company
During this empty moment
CarolineYou loved the fire
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
things to tell you before i leave for collegeto mrs hatcher:
i promise that one day i will write that poem you asked me for
(the only thing you ever asked me for)
and i will finally tell you that you deserve
so much more.
to mr. walker:
i promise that i will not pity you.
i promise that i will not envy you.
i promise that you will always be one of my forget-me-nots and marigolds.
i promise to always be grateful.
i promise to be careful.
i promise to be crazy.
i promise that i will remember what it feels like to be needed
and what it feels like to let someone who needs you down.
i promise that i will never resent you for asking for help
and that i will always be there when you do.
i promise that even sixty years from now,
i will not be surprised to find a letter from you in my mailbox.
i promise to always remember what it felt like to be young and crazy with you,
how scared and lonely we were.
i will remember that we both survived it,
and that we'll survive this, too.
You Were Born Missing SomethingYour skin is glazed with crystals of frost
and your heart's valves are close to
freezing shut tight
from being devoid of something
Though I am torrents of hail, whirling storms,
warm tears streaking,and tornadoes of rage
that flow uncontrollably through my veins
and out of my mouth,
every breath near you is warm
because your words are so cold
I am a natural disaster at its finest
with bones twisted in painful angles
and a crooked spine
you were born spineless
Edward Scissor Handstongues slipping in the dark
between the ears
is all i know of your story
so, i'll cry with you tonight
we'll lose ourselves in the stars
within the branches of the pink dogwoods
because we cannot touch
i watched them massacre you
from behind a pexi-glass screen
as anger pulsed an elevating pain in my ears
so, lie next to me tonight
you'll lose yourself with my amnesia kisses
because you've never touched
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