spent most of ancient history
stacking books and mouthing
menus, lifting hearts out of the pavement
like blackberries on a bridge,
agonising over chimneystacks,
the lost boys of dark nights with
beautiful hands and purple
faces, while four-leaf-clover bruises leave room
for contemplation
and a
moment of perdition
when the clouds will stop and stare.
as the world rusts in a bed of aluminium
your oceans start to empty, with catkins
slipping out of packets,
too much in (and out of) love to sleep alone at all, with a blister on a finger,
a breath of cancer on the stairs,
there are dancers in the hallway lining spaces with their
bracelets and we
spent most of friday,
making cities out of pencils,
slicing tissues down the middle
and trying the taste
of his name
on your tongue
Author notes
someone forgets to water a flower
and somebody doesn't get an anonymous rose on valentine's day.
but who wants roses anyway?
(this feels too fast to me)
In a list
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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the first half is nice, i liked some of the images but nothing in particular struck me.
then i got to the second half, and it hit me.
"too much in (and out of) love to sleep alone at all"
is just too perfect a way to say so many things that are hard for me to say. you really captured a lot of emotion in the last 2 stanzas, and although the entire thing was good, i enjoyed them the most. -
this is LOVELY.
thank you for sharing it. -
you are the best, ever. ♥
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Jeex.
you've got some wonderfully poetrical thoughts. makes me wanna draw a city made of pencils and a boy's name smudged into a girl's lip after he kissed her.
yeah. inspiring. river-like flow. rigth before the storm hits.
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no this is perfect it flows beautifully.
xxxxxxxxx
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my my
i think im gonna just have to make a list all for you dear
this speaks to me.
how i dont know.. but it does and i am listening
♥
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we spent most of friday,
making cities out of pencils,
slicing tissues down the middle
and trying the taste
of his name
on your tongue
Someone needs to publish you prettybaby, because the world needs and deserves a brilliant poet. Also, the first and last stanzas were ridiculously creative.
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you have amazing vocabulary.
jealous.
i also love how the first and last stanzas connect.
this is beautiful honeyhoney<33
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babe.
i don't even know what to say...because to be quite honest, this left my mouth dry and the words glued to the back of my throat. your pen paints images across notebook paper and leave readers in awe. each stanza only leaves room in my lungs for shortened breath. flawless.
♥
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<3
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too fast to slow the winding of our mouths work and too slow to speed the dance of our toes to the tongues tossing of delicate tulip like words; splashing all the berry yes's and halo goodbyes with just another arm to hold while we remember that forgeting is our pathway through the dark hall of today.
I have no idea how you found me... not an issue NOW.
you splash words in my eyes and tickle me with a piece of me.
one question: Are you really only 15?
I can only believe that the swirl of colors your brain produces will continue to tickle and prepare a package so oversized that i can only hold my breath in tune to your song.
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gosh, you even manage to be unfairly poetic in your comments
i found you through some group or other and i'm so glad i did. am pretty sure that several hours will be spent having my breath taken away by your writing.
and yes i'm fifteen.
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