A Day In (My) Life

ghostsandonionskins:

You should smile, I think
I’m not laying claims on your disposition here
nor am I downplaying that lead in your chemicals
or the boot you feel against your chest
when reading Russian lit
But it’d be nice, I think,
if you smiled
At least then I would know
you were closing in on the only really important secret
that any of us have:
that the world is not scary, only scared
and the words “I am not mad”
are best whispered repeatedly into a bag of potatoes
in the middle of an all night grocery store

ronstormer:

When I look at her, I am a peeping Tom.
Her eyes are lit, a house of windows,
Where she undresses with trepidation,
The rooms are dim, but the blinds are up.

I am a passerby with a secret.
She’s bruised, abused and giving them away,
She’s tired of holding them
Tired of him, tired of saving face.

When I hold her, I am an innocent thief,
My hands on her hips, wandering meadows
Her embraces, her kisses are sweet
Like apples from another man’s tree 

I am a vagrant with a full belly.
She’s plucked and ripe, happily picked,
She’s tired of hanging from his memory
Tired of waiting to fall to his root. 

(Source: ramoorebooks, via brasssnuggles)

victim-of-convenience:

We were bound to the earth
not by shackles or chains
but by laws that need not be enforced
By these same, we were twined
under sheets over shame
that our gravity couldn’t divorce
our souls from our sins
or your hands from my hips
We knew that, although we were taught
that bodies aren’t weightless,
we drifted together
‘cause hearts are a mutinous lot

We pled innocent then
not nearly so jaded
to shun offered immunity
for riots incited
from behind the gated
walls of your parents’ community
You were never without
I was never within
range of anything nearing forgiveness
But, my hand on the Bible,
I swore it was worth it
if only for letting me feel less

When we drifted apart
out of space, just in time
to miss falling over each other
we were crushed by the force
of a heavier crime
than was ever committed by lovers
And the guilt, it came later
a hammer that dropped
before the real truth could be learned
But that was our sentence
and this the full stop
on a trial that’s now been adjourned

victim-of-convenience:

Up from this notebook
into the sweetest smile of youth.
I could see you’re that boy:
the athlete, good grades, prom king
but wiser than your years,
more depth than your peers
I knew one like you once.
Raised well by a loving family
I can tell, because, looking down
at my scribbled lines, you asked,
“Poetry? May I?”
I flipped to a page I wasn’t
completely disgusted with.
You read, grinned (of course there were dimples)
Your eyes smiled, as well
blue (of course)
eyes I’ll bet the girls in grades nine through twelve
do swan dives into.
You asked me to write one about you:
Well, Dakota,
I noted you’re aces in the javelin
but if you’d like to spear
something more meaningful
I can tell you with absolute certainty
there is a girl (she once was me)
that sees the poet behind
the quarterback of the football team.
And she may not be at the top tier
nor even the third
of the high school hierarchy
but that is because she is rare.
Dakota, throw your heart out there
she’ll catch it - pass complete.
And that will be an achievement
immeasurable in feet.

ghostsandonionskins:

I remember the dress
that you wore when we met
like a ruby carved
into temptation
and though God was away
when I grew up, I knew
there was something
like love to creation
and you said I was older
than the flesh I was in
that it’d learn, it would turn
and go rotten
and I laughed but I knew
that that minute with you
was a thousand things
but not forgotten
Now I can’t remember
every flower I’ve picked
but I imagine that they died
in a dry pot
Yeah you flashed like the sun
that pulled purple from earth
like the bones underneath
had their tongues caught
and I don’t know the things
that you say in your sleep
you saved those for one who’d
love you better
I remember the dress
that you wore when we met
That’s all,
so I wrote you this letter

blackeyesblueskies:

Beyond the jaded window of my bedroom
The low rumble of passengers midnight travels
Ripple through drowsy English sky
I wonder if it must be irritated by it
As it weaves through rural clouds
Travelling north to illuminated London
Or perhaps
It is a common comfort
That soothes the harshness of the unseasonal cold

The people sitting in crowded aisles
What must they think
Are they coming or going?

Their glasses filled on a plastic fold-out tray
Either to the brim of the prospect of optimistic possibility
A new scrap of story
Or empty from the disappoint of a chapter ended
Bored stiff in an upright chair
Tipsy and jet lagged. 

(via blackeyesblueskies-deactivated2)

blackeyesblueskies:

Collab I did with Seth 

sethtillings:

Normal Type- Sethtillings
Italics- Izzy

As I walk through the valley
in the shadows of my doubts
the grass is full of this teenage folly
we step ignorant of the clouds
unaware of the dewdrop rain
that the cherubim hail as confetti
for my fleeting Annabel Lee and me

Shards of flint click between my heels
As the valley crumbles
And coat pockets are filled with hands decrepit
From mere moments of skimming her eyelids
In the absence of sight she was enfolded
In his fortuitous warmth
And the shadows whirled in bitter shame
The fringes paled

And for the hungry ghosts haunt our paths
as we wander through the wilderness
tomb homes adorn the corners of her
sleepless eyes
crypts of echoing memories
pools lifted from Elysium
chilled tears of ambrosia
the ichor in my mortal circuit
traded from her whiskey tumble kiss

The morning moments waking
still tired from star gazing and lonely
conversations of how I cannot wait
to join her freckles with my aging
fingers again and how she cannot
stop thinking of the kisses on her hair
when she docks bashfully to my
ancient temple chest

But time watched us from afar in scorn
Time does not forgive
It does not bleed
And it does not love
Which is why it set out to plague
In ruthless pursuit
Of spilling the blood
Of our mere mortal lives
With subtle violence and
Treacherous temptation
My dear, it tore our love vein by vein
You screamed out to the sky but
I could only look down at the barren land
My dear, believe me when I say I swore
What I wouldn’t give to etch promises into your collarbones once more

(via blackeyesblueskies-deactivated2)