Poetry, Writing

Fate.

Pendulum of Fate in motion,
Slicing through the union between time and space;
Now is too soon a memory of yesterday,
Was it ever mine?
Dust particles shimmer like glitter in the right light.
They blanket the lifeless, and bury the dull.
Here is an apple.
Here is a book.
Here is a chair.
Here is a girl.
Here is a boy.
This is what a dream looked like.
This is how an apple rots.
This is what a book looks like unread.
This is how empty a chair looks on its own.
This is what time does to a boy and a girl.
Life is precious, but is it?
Tired arms cease to cling to a body of air,
An idea that will never be.

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Graphic Art, Poetry

Desktop Poem

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Poetry, Writing

Essentially

In essence
Innocence
In a sense

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Poetry, Writing

Kneeling

Two hands claspedinprayer
Head,shoulders bent forward
From somuchagony.
Forgivemefather for I know what I do,
God, IwishIdidn’t.
Sinner,Saint– whogivesadamn;
Not me, I sureasHell don’t.

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Poetry, Writing

I, Too, Am a Nonconformist

I walk the other way to avoid all the smalltalk,
Drink straight from the faucet mostly.
Ramble off an assortment of curse words,
I know they make people feel weird.
Read the small print even when asked to skim,
I don’t shower daily.
Wear black with brown even when it’s unfashionable,
Refuse to greet with a handshake.

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Poetry, Writing

6-07-12

Hot car roasts me/
Waiting for C. at his therapist’s office/
Hope his therapist doesn’t think I’m a bitch/
She probably will/
Called my Pdoc; these pills are making my skin breakout/
I’m only half insecure about it/
I want to be perfect/
Being thin isn’t enough so I need to work out/
Laid by the pool a few hours ago/
Puberty-influenced boys gave shameless stares/
I told C. they would/
Pleasant time/
C. knows D. and I had sex/
We’re getting used to to his gay/
I thought of the bliss of nudity out in the open/
Sun and breeze on fleshy skin/
In my right mind, I don’t think I can be here much longer/
Read “Tender Buttons” by Gertrude Stein/
Butchy Lesbian/
Found it fascinating for reasons unclear/
Received love letter from D. today in mailbox/
The aesthetics made up for the empty words/
I suppose I am a bitch/
Certain parts made me smile/
Maybe I should just appreciate that he took the time/
I am not a romantic/
D. is a romantic/
Pencil is clanging against my thumb so rapid/
Eyes are bored/
Where’s the liveliness?/
C.’s walking out the door/

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Poetry, Writing

Illuminate the Shadowy Mind

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Why is life so lifeless for you, poor child?
Is there a thing in this world that could lighten you up, put a smile on your face?
You are brooding, but why?
Has someone wronged you, or has misfortune fallen upon you?
Have your clouds been filled with nothing but rain, leaving your days bleak and overcast?
Do you have any words to profess your empty melancholy, or do you want to just sit there in silence?
You’ll be okay, with your youth and your ambitions, and your future sprawled out in front of you,
Like a series of still-lifes in a gallery,
your smiles, tears, and daydreams of tomorrow on display,
Framed in white and hung on drywall for you to observe,
A procession of your forms in due time and the sun holding your hand,
Ushering you into your last days.
Don’t you see how remarkable all this is?
To live and breathe, and one day no longer?
For now, you are alive and the stars are your company,
So radiate the light of living and bask in minutes that will have you.

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