swingdance

 

Maybe Because I Accidentally Caught Your Eye // by Jennifer Patino

Or maybe because I’m just sitting here
I’m a whole motion, baby
An unexplored ocean

but I can’t dance well,
Around my body is a shell,
Invisible, but that’s not your notion

You see me from across the club
I’m a mirage at first, shrouded in smoke
Hair dyed black as night, eyelids clouded

I see you approaching before you take a step
A puzzling panther, enigmatic prowl
I’m not your tiny or otherwise prey or dancer

You comment on my style of smoking
Say it’s laced with attitude, and you like it
I want to be rude, but you see dude,

This is what I did
Took a hand, swing danced to Oingo Boingo
with this apparent weirdo

His royal blue velvet zoot suit,
he was a doppelganger for Lou Bega,
I had the time of my life

Later he replaced my cigarette pack
outside of the back alleyway bodega
and I never knew his name, just the

angular shape of his shoulders,
in the oversized coat,
and his swinging back

***

I’m so happy my blog looks the way I want it to now. Special thanks to my husband Jackson for helping me with his mad design skills. 🙂

I’m up and running on a new space just in time for OctPoWriMo so I hope you’re all ready for a slew of new poems from me. One a day for every day in October. I love this month and I’m usually so full of energy because of Halloween excitement so what better way to burn off some of it by being creative?

I hope you enjoyed the above poem. I was feeling nostalgic last night, remembering my younger days, pre-symptoms, where I was able to get out more and do things. One of those things was go to dance clubs! *gasp* I have many a fond memory. This poem is one of them.

I want to thank you all for hanging in with me all summer when I was feeling absolutely miserable and at the end of my fraying thread. I’m noticing an improvement in my pain level as the temperature outside decreases and I’m filled with gratitude for that. I’m glad you’re here reading me over on WordPress. I plan on giving more personal updates along with poetry and prose, and will continue with #MicropoetryMonday. However, I’m going to just share a handful of micropoems and microfiction instead of every one I post on Twitter. The posts were seriously sooooo loooong so I’ll just highlight some of the “top” ones according to Twitter analytics and any one I particularly loved that week.

I hope you all have a fantastic weekend and I’ll see you tomorrow for the first day of October and poetry fun with #OctPoWriMo!

 

"Ad unum corpus humanum supplicia plura quam membra." — Three Poems

 
 
 
Three Poems
by Jennifer Patino

 

Ad unum corpus humanum supplicia plura quam membra.

One human body is liable to more pains than the members of which it is composed.”

(St. Cyprian)


⚕️⚕️⚕️
 


Chronic Deterioration, Or,

The Sound the Paper Covering on the Examination Table

Makes When I Lay Gingerly Upon It


And they don’t believe me

when I tell them

I can feel when liquid enters

my body and I can feel

when it leaves me,

filled with toxins,

filled with shame

My ears will pop

at pressure changes

that happen when I am still

They are always fine tuning

Angel Radio Network

Am I coming in clear?

My bones will crack

because I am always frozen,

even loosed, I’m tense

underneath a smile

and underneath

all you can’t see

X rayed, cat scanned,

I am filled with abominations

Foreigners who should not be there

I am infested

I have organs with permanent scars

I Google kidneys in jars

wondering if one of them can be

mine’s replacement someday

Still they nod and tell me

You’re ok, you’re ok

because this is just the beginning, baby

and I’m still considered young

even though my body says I’m ancient

and it’s always possibly going to be worse some day

 

⚕️⚕️⚕️

This Is

Like being in a room full of your own things but nothing is recognizable.
There’s a gold shoe in the corner when I always felt better in silver.
Silver is cheaper. Less pristine. Stainless steel is even better. It has no weight of importance. No one would be tempted to steal it right off of me.

Like making an offering. A bargain. A wager. An even trade with something less. No one is that helpless. No one barters out-of-work organs. No one serves sustainability on a pewter platter. The gift is tarnished. The present is a rusted chain that scrapes against the pudding suit. It aches with slight, sudden movement.

Like a bother. Every day. A sneeze. A tic. A tickle. An itch just out of reach.
Wellness unattainable. A health scare. A horror. A constant orbit. A crash landing into Saturn. Blood like Mercury. Pain is elemental and enlightening. There are parts of you on fire that you never knew could burn.

Like an unwanted child. A thorn poisoned and embedded. A sip of water that isn’t enough to quench. I clench with every step. I grind my teeth to chalk and drink it down to quell the acid. Like a volcano. Unstoppable. I destroy civilizations with the truth of things. I am a burden with a mouth. I am the recipient of every pitying apology.

Like a worst nightmare. Like waking up hungover with no benefit of having been drunk. Like a rushing train. Constant rain. I am drowning in here. In myself. In my unease. Like fallen leaves. I’m dead but I remind everyone of life and beauty. Like tragedy. This is disease.

 

⚕️⚕️⚕️

These Unmighty Hands

“Who knows the poet? These days
we are all personas. Who wants
to know the poet? Does the poet want
to know you? Is the poet thinking
of you as she writes? Do you think so?”

I.

The Bronte Sisters.
Shakespeare.
The Founding Father Thieves.
They all wrote by hand.
The Apostle Paul
with his twisted back.
In prison.
He wrote
with his withered hand.
I said,
I will never survive
if I can’t write.

Only say the word and I shall be healed.

My wrists are the oak tree knobs
we’d squeeze in between
when we were feeling romantic.
I saw a play about Tom Sawyer
so I laid in the field under the trunk
as he did. Jeans rolled up. Barefoot.
Long grass dangling from my mouth.
I bit into it
out of curiosity. I thought it tasted
how hay felt
scratching against supple skin.

This was long ago. Now my pain
medication tastes like how I shiver
when I hear the terrifying scrape
of a knife being sharpened.
Metal on metal. My nerves
rubbing together like sandpaper.

But I can still think of those days,
under a tree, scribbling sonnet attempts
in teenage angst font. I wanted to be
anyone but me even then.

I remember when eight hours of writing was a breeze.
Now I can be pulled off center,
off balance, into excruciating hellfire with the force of a sneeze.
Jeez. We started off venting then transitioned to begging please.

I will be brittle leaves. I will be bitter wind. I will pay
for uninformed sins like they say my ancestors did.
I’ll wear the road map on my back and die,
mid-metaphor, once this illness of various
necessary systems
launches its final attack.

II.

I am a million exposed nerve endings. My own skin bare,
even air carries dangerous weapons. The pen I hold
is a flaming sword.

The book I had my mind set on reading is too heavy.
I am not looking for Cliffs notes or cop-outs. I want
to devour the whole meaty meal even if it doesn’t fit in my belly.
I am already bursting at the stretch mark seams
with all I could never let go of.

I can’t wash my eyes, speckle covered, of all I’ve seen.
My ears are clogged with harsh words
against all I’ve ever done to survive.

It is all wrong. It has finally woken up to its reality.
I’m talking about the body. I have left it neglected
and far behind. My hand is a forced phantom.
I make it all work. I lie. I lie.

To spare you, I give you flowers and hope.
I keep the truth wrapped with a tight rope.
I am the train and the train tracks. I’m that
stupid cartoon, highly inappropriate
and appropriated, “Indian maiden”
no one bats an eye to save because
“She’s got it!” Clever knots. I’m
killing myself to stop, and smile,
and please you. Beg me to live well.
Be well. I cannot.

Don’t touch me. You’ll never survive the volts.
The shock. The sudden start. Sparks in the dark.
Your softness will sting me. It will upset me.
I will feel all you carry and it could be my last straw.
My back is broken. I’m a dehydrated camel. My legs
are made of wax. Shining with enamel. Scuffed and
suffering is law. Mother Mary appears for my last act.

#MicropoetryMonday – September 11 – 17, 2017


Me, Vampire – Courtesy of Snapchat filters




Hey everyone! Are you feeling Halloween in the air like I am? My decorations are going to have to come out soon. The nights here are leaning closer to sweater weather so I’m getting Autumn vibes. I miss up north and seeing the colors change but I can still visualize in my mind and write about it. It’ll do.

My nerve pain is officially the worst it’s ever been but if I type slowly I can manage. I’m faring better with a pen some days but mostly I sit here frustrated. I want to do more. But I should be happy with what I have produced. And I am. Believe me. I am.

I’ve been reading Anne Sexton poetry this week. I haven’t really sat down and read her for about ten years and I of course found the way I read her to be different than how it was back then. I’m in love with her still. I also find most of her work to be more relatable to me now than ever. A new found appreciation for an old flame. I’ve read a few novels this week too. I’m trying to tackle Michael Schmidt’s “Lives of the Poets” but it’s so huge and I can’t lift it or read it comfortably at the moment. I should get a book stand or something. Or just get the Kindle version. Little annoyances from this big annoyance known as being sick forever.

I’ve been sucked into The Vampire Diaries and starting to watch whatever horror is on Netflix. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by some I’ve watched. My brain lacks the name of titles right now. It’s my way of getting that Halloween feeling like I mentioned earlier. I want so badly to feel well and I’m not and it’s disheartening but I can do things to make myself as happy as possible. If not, I’m going to wither away in my mind too and I don’t want that. I spend enough time gritting my teeth and staring at walls. At least I can imagine in there. Rest is not so easy to come by when you’re born creative.

I’m here though. I’m doing what I can. I’m going to try to go see Mother! with my husband this upcoming weekend. I’m going to have to make doctor appointments again soon. (I’m so tired of doctor appointments that don’t seem to matter really.) I’m listening to good music. I’m relying on God and prayer. I’m trying to make some decisions about what to do with my writing. I don’t think I want to call it work anymore. It takes the fun out of it. 😉 I’m toying around with releasing my chapbook in print form. I’m toying around with a lot of ideas really and I don’t know if any of it will really happen. I don’t know if I’m just going to be “someone who wrote a lot of online poetry for her entire life” or “insert something cool and authorly”. I don’t know if I care or if I should care or if I’m supposed to care about this as a writer. It’s not money. It’s never been money. I would have quit a long time ago if it were about money. I just don’t know anymore. I just know it’s becoming physically more difficult to do much of anything for too long. I’m ill. I can’t deny it. I just have so much more to write.

Alright, I’m going now before I end up deleting all I just painfully wrote. Take it easy this week everyone! Love and be love. ❤


****



Losing count
of wake fires,
years smoldered
still burn bright

Each flame
deep set
in the eyes
of my family

to remind us


****


My secret heart
forgives your emotion based mistakes

Concealed truth
out in open plains you tried to overtake

Justified actions
bend & break


****


broken bond
so torn up
& apart
we used our remnants
to cling to
to keep afloat
in distant rivers
to return to
the ocean together


****


instead of looking
we applied to be
mannequins behind
glass windows
we stopped passing
became the passed
this was transcendence


****


Rosemary’s Baby (1968)



Watching Rosemary’s Baby at 6 AM

1.

Mia sits like a china cup
chipping away at French manicured nails
Wild printed woman, 30 years her senior,
speaks with a table shaking voice

2.

it’s serene
here
underwater
familiar scene

wait
i’m the red clad lamb
being led to slaughter

time ticks
i reminisce
what did they give me?

3.

polished & forgiven
too yellow morning awakening

accusation lingers on the skin
marked & bitten

tea bag evidence
an open window invitation



****


Parts of my mother

I found them
in headstones laid on my chest

In sobbing breaths,
in appearing statuesque
when being yelled at


****


I caught you crying in the jade garden
Don’t worry
No one can keep an orchid alive
You held my face like an apple
You’re my core


****


People can’t fathom
how patient I’ve been

Waiting
for identity

Waiting
for answers

Silent mother,
who is my father?

I’ve grown


****


All the beaches blend together
A mouth full of sand, salt spray, tears
Gulls shriek, blocking out echoes
Of screams that won’t go away
Ever


****


unglued
unhinged
as if we were objects
as if we were metal & wood
but livewire flesh
blood spilled (accidents happen)
& bone thin holds well


****


Vapor calm

I make myself a wisp
so I can fade to a soothing scent

These dreams
are sedation induced
because I can’t move


****


Made of the icy sting of metal
Under heat, under pressure
Born in distress, boiling over
A scorched servant of suffering


****


You’ve made me

the stones
of your house
I have a skylight
& firm foundation
I’m a view of a yard now
watching you
in the moonlight


****


I want to ask if the Falls
held a spectral mirage
like grandma said,
but you don’t believe in ghosts

Just how to haunt like one


****


when the water’s high
go to the attic
you said
the higher we are
the lower the rest

wind like a whale song
sings of change


****


Laid out
Laid in
Skin like
surface of a cutting board
Like every hand
they forced you to show
Laid down
Bet it all
Clear the table


****


Blame is shed
Here is
fragile acceptance
& a delicate surrendering
to the deterioration of your well being;
Still, we live as well
as we can


****


A decade of stormy weather

I sit
waiting for light

fidgeting
with a spirit so alive
it can’t be contained
inside this shell


****


It may take
my whole lifetime
to recover
from being born

I’m remembering
the celestial chute,
fluorescent fear
& how to scream


****


Sing of your blurred dreams
even if they’re not completely yours.
Is anything really yours? Do you know
ownership? You’re letting go of it.


****


Leave the scenery outside
next time
There are desert mountains
in your eyes
Painted flecks of gold
like the sunrise


****


I follow a snowstorm
under my skin

An avalanche tremor
of muscles
A rabbit twitch

With my little
bone finger

& believe in healing


****


Summer’s end proving to be tumultuous
Brisk winds hint of better days
They soothe me at night
I want to fall completely this time


****


I can trace death in my open palm
Creases keep changing
Feelings run deeper
Follow these streams
Veins of disease

I can swim
if I keep calm


****


Death drama today

It isn’t my fault that the lightning
within me wants to take me

I like the grey clouds
most find threatening

Muted pain


****


The light comes to you
when you’re too afraid to
speak anymore

I can feel the knocking
softly on my door
but I can’t hear

sounds so near


****


Strength in the tides,
in the changing,
the unstoppable flow,
forces of healing moonlight,
eroding me like sand,
making me new


****





This overactive cage,
so tender, so finicky

I struggle against
forced immobility

I pay for it too heavily
in eyelids, and frustrated rage


****


The quiet is calling
I’ll find peace in it,
retreat into it

Slowly

Recovering from falling
into the chaos noise
still ringing in my voice


****


I saw vital organs blossom,
take over bellies
& every step walked

I’ve seen one consumed
from the inside;
Here I am at the mirror


****


We charmed her like Wendy
She drank deep,
merrily chasing the green fairy
French girl sings from a piano
Her smoke rings look scary
Don’t go


****


I saw angels in the funhouse mirror
I saw my cousin through five layers of glass
waving wildly
my stuffed souvenir at his feet
He rescued us


****


A kind of betrothal
between old & new

I’m piecing past & present
together to save a future

I don’t really believe in
tomorrow, only now


****


I found your rain slicker auspicious
Aloft, gulls warn us away from the water
Back to your boathouse
Tea mugs warm us
Ever closer


****


I wake up
like the stage magician’s
assistant turned victim

He’s left me
sawed in half
to try to find myself again


****


I dreamt of the green clad lady,
electric and dying

There was a race between who would
plug her in first

Fiber optic dust follicles
lit up


****


Let’s watch the sunset
Wild rose will settle & still for that
I worry about her losing all her petals
In this light she buds again


****


Alone in this
I summon bliss
Floating in starlight
Waning crescent kiss
Back to the body
Reminisce
The pulse of nighttime
Alive in the abyss


****





VSS (Very Short Stories):


One’s misfortune, another one’s success.
Gift wrapped in guilt. Accepted.


****


One foot in the ocean on the brink of a tropical depression. She crosses a moment off her bucket list, longs to be swept away.


****






WIP (Works in Progress):


I wrote of birth and sorrows earlier. The beginning of creation and transformation with every brand new day. Yesterday’s you is over.


****


Pain so bad
soft sheets leave scrapes
Someone has replaced
all the cotton threads with needles,
lined my clothing with thorny barbs


****




#MicropoetryMonday – September 4 – 10, 2017

I’m looking forward to a new week. This past one required a lot of soul searching, releasing of frustrations, patience with myself and others, and combating fears and anxieties. I’m in pain. No sugarcoating. It hurts a lot. I take advantage of the moments it’s not so bad. I try to do things I want to do and will stop if it becomes too much so that is much better than where I was a few months ago.

I’m thankful for friends and family talking to me about things right now. I’m glad to be listened to. This week I’ll be working on my new blog design and then we can really have some fun. I’m excited to share new writing with everyone. I’m also very glad that so far all of my friends and family are doing okay with Hurricane Irma and it ended up being not as bad as anticipated for their areas. My heart is still with other parts of the world that did have a major and devastating impact by Irma and those still struggling after Harvey. What’s happening in St. Martin is so sad and I pray for peace and relief for them. ❤

I have changed things around a bit in my apartment. When a new month or new season comes around I like to switch things up. I haven’t broken out the Halloween decorations yet but they are on their way! The new led lights Jackson and I got for our bedroom are more “blacklight” purple than the other purple we have used in the past but they’re still cool. Gives a “spooky Halloween” vibe. I also have a lot of pink in my decor and my red bulb in my lamp (which shows up more pink so it’s not as angry as red, haha)I’m sad one of my strings of star lights went out but the star covers are reusable so I can put them on other lights. I like that it feels like I’m in a calm, rosy glow right now.

I tried drawing a bit the other night and it caused my nerves in my hands to act up but thankfully it was better by the next day. I feel I’ll do better with a paintbrush. I’ll be getting started on a piece this week that involves some collaging and painting so that will be fun. I have been reading Platypus Press chapbooks mostly this week. Some Yeats. Some of Plath’s journal entries. I also started a novel called, “Salvage the Bones” by Jesmyn Ward and it’s amazing and gritty. A book you have to read slowly because the story cuts that deep and you don’t want it to bleed to death in your hands. At the same time, the book is so real. Too real. Books like these remind me of how awesome it is to be alive.

Have a good one, everyone. A lot of cleaning up will be happening this week. Stay loving, helpful, and filled with gratitude. ❤


****



Space and land,
very ancient

Before the lush,
the verdant grass

From the dust,
from the Mighty Hands

Untainted by
so many hands


****


Trust your soul
because what you see
may be distorted reflections
Remember what you do
when no one’s looking
Think what they’ll do


****


End of summer means preparations
for sparks of life crawling to my surface
A break from the pains
A dance in creative rains


****


across a sapphire sky
I see my sister
head a new way
on a jumped plane
fulfilling promises
I wait for her to come back


****

We’re partial to the nightlife
An hour away
city lights dazzle us,
entice us  We recall
the fallen who got
swept away in the haze


****


you took
that big risk

the leap
between
two dangerous mountains

but you couldn’t
be bothered
with taking
my call

so I fall


****


A celestial place
wasn’t needed
to awaken
Next to a fire
in the backyard,
that’ll do
The trees were cut last summer
I lost sleep


****


Uncertain forecast
is nothing new
They say under this sun
we can’t help but look the same
Harmonious voices
& identical lost hope


****


I didn’t see
all that fell from me
until I felt crumbling
beneath my feet
Too late to save
what I couldn’t hang onto
Too far past
to retreat


****


Sensitivity superpower

The weight of it all
on an unlikely hero

One who shields eyes
with a cape, punishing themselves
for being so small


****


Your forehead, forest damp
as you talk of fire
I know it’s the fever
I change the images
to beauty
to combat this
rage sickness


****


Tiny sparrows, eyelashes
Your melancholic confession
Truth pill swallowed, overdosed
You cry too much
You’ve said too much
And I forgive you


****


your beautiful chaos
has a rhythm I can’t let go of

rear view mirror serenade
backseat singer

every song you know
in one chorus


****


Nothing I could say
would soothe the wound
of the world
I am silence(d)
so I hear
so much
it scratches my torn apart heart
to make more room


****





When I came back to myself
I saw no separation
between The All
and how I see me,
how I view reality,
but I could feel
my inner wall decaying


****


Watch the pain disappear,
blend into the background
Periwinkle twilight
Dream symbols
on canvas
Focused foreground
Art therapy


****


They pushed me to trust in masks
to hide what’s real

Bottles of tricks
to fool myself with

Names of Muses
for sleep & false pharma gods


****


Sometimes I hide because I just don’t want to be sad anymore. Beyond the walls hurts too much right now. Peeking over pains just as much.


****


Slip away
between layered glass cracks
Painted
Catching sunlight
Illuminating all shades
of your spectrum
& your beautiful flaws


****


To the edge–
I leapt fires I wasn’t sure were real
until I felt heat on my face
An empty pit–
overwhelming soul sadness


****


Squeeze out meaning
until your hands are bloody
See that you’ve depleted
the point
No one’s remembering
the argument in memoriam


****


Seasons turn

Gift of change
wrapped in winds & snowfall

but nature can’t deliver
if I’m hidden away
where she can’t reach me


****


It’s not a facade
It’s a censored display
A projection of what’s
the least likely to get me hurt
& it’s not your fault


****


Under the clouds, the dove feathers, the peace of the sky,
the September moon shines, a dull outline, protecting us tonight


****


I struck a bargain
Never made it off the crossroads
Undecided, in the middle, neutral is the path
that I am forever pulled from


****





Our time
in the Light
Can you see
the minutes tick
in falling stars?
Can you watch
the hours pass
from a moonbeam?
Do you care?


****


Follow the streams
where your eyes lead you
where they meet the rivers
where the green blue pools
fall into flowing life force


****


No more teasing, sky. The lightning means I’m in the storm. Your dark clouds are making perfect sense.


****


Carefully navigating
thin tightrope

Eggshell linoleum
but only around you

We can’t escape our downfalls
No, we hold fast to them


****


From urgency to urgency,
dangerous moments to full blown
outbursts of secrecy

Angry rain tears
flooding my ears
with all you never told me


****


We woke up at moonrise

The harvest rages on
outside our tracing paper walls

Autumn calls to us
with ochre skies
& crimson air


****


The first five years are the clay
that shapes me, they say
Toddler trauma gloom
They spread me in doom
I’ll harden some day
Then chip away


****


Here we are
back to a washed away day

The air
dank & demanding,
lightning flashing

Back to the east
& our beginning


****


A faith untouchable
will be my legacy
after the print fades

Words on bone ash pages,
peeling skin from
frantic fingertips


****





Angels & elements
Streetlights fade out
as we walk down the road
to our earthly homes
You say you know
it means we’re watched over


****


A hand
like a feather
drifting down

‘Must be the work of angels’

His nonchalant response
was truth
from the mouth
of the muse


****


Trading ghost stories,
waiting for the storm

I’m here as long as
the phone wires hold us

& I’ll be a light in your hearts
in the darkness


****


Clear as crystal

You make me unafraid
so we lay it all bare,

become as fragile as glass
believing that dawn
will break us


****


ambient music
of the celestial symphony
cherubic charm of birdsong
cloud hopping
across tropical citrus sky
stress floats away


****


dancing porcelain

a delicate moment

s
   h 
         a
        t
            t
        
         e
               r
     e
d


****


Skin cage or
electric fence follicles

This is a body
on guard,
in defense

This is pain protecting worse wounds
no one should ever see


****


Stay to the end
Miracles born
of deep belief
En masse
Circles, squares, triangles
the same
We form ideas
from the shape of the moon


****


All is still
Small hours pass faster
but leave longer shadows
Branches are safe
in darkness together,
worst of the storm over


****




Haiku:


Small plates for large mouths
Bread fed, our daily discourse
Thrice a day enraged





VSS (Very Short Stories):


A dark day. Labored fruits have rotted overnight. Time to ask why is time we don’t have. The shutters are open. No one walks the streets.


****


“Owl”

Owl reminds me of every
choice I gained wisdom from.


****


I named my teddy bear Samson.
He was a symbol of strength who survived abuse from my siblings
and the loss of a button eye.









WIP (Works in Progress):



I like the show for its rustic colors.

Yellows, oranges, bright greens.
My dullness needs it.
I feel like obsidian
when a TV screen is off.

                      –From “The TV People”


****


“You said you feared we wouldn’t have beautiful things to look at anymore so I’m doing my best to keep creating for you.”

                      –line from a letter


****


“Yes, he’s quite a master of the art of saying things in poor taste.”
“In my world we call that a ‘dick move’.”


****


My brain is a pile of dead jellyfish. Cross wired. Tentacle entwined.





#MicropoetryMonday – Happy September!

Hey everyone! I have been doing much better with the nerve pain in my arms and hands the past few days which is great because I couldn’t keep all these words inside of me any longer. I wrote a bunch of poems that I’ll be looking forward to polishing up, submitting to a few places, and of course sharing on the blog.

Speaking of blog, if all goes well, the new blog will be finished before September 25th! I’m looking forward to blogging on WordPress as I’ve been a reader over there for years. I can’t wait to start sharing a bit more of personal writing. I have a lot of stories to tell and I’m glad I’m feeling more comfortable to finally share them. I have to stop fearing my own voice. I have to.

Here’s some micropoems from Twitter to start off the week! Have a good one!

Addendum: I’m a few hours away from posting this and I wanted to give a little bit more information on the bit of the WIP I shared below, “Fear of Freak Accidents“. I decided today after outlining some sections that it will be full length. A lot of my poems I wasn’t sure I had a home for in other possible chapbooks (or to send to lit mags for publication) fit in with the theme for “Fear” perfectly. As you’ll see if you read to the end, I’m going to be adding artwork to the book as well. I don’t make art nearly as often as I should but I’m grown more patient the past few months and have ideas I’ve been hoarding in my head for a few years that will compliment my words in the best way because they will be true, they will be real, they will all be me. I’m excited to already be working on this and I have a feeling I’ll just know when it’s finished so I’m not setting a deadline yet. I’m looking forward to taking my time. 


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I’m far removed from those who apricate
I see them on rooftops without a care in the world
They melt into the sky after sunset


****


All day
secrets on display

I just silently pray
instead of screaming

into invisible ears
that aren’t ready to hear


****


I saw things
that looked recycled,
wanted all the treasures
they forced us to throw away
in another yard
another place
untouched to this day


****


Truth be told,
we asked for the author
of the story of his life
written on a heart
grown cold
and distant
but still bearing
his given name


****


Trading this moon view
for raindrops & a busy signal
I tried to pick your number
from the sky
but your star’s gone out
hasn’t it old friend?


****


A passion for peace
ignited by sparks of divinity
rekindled within me
to be found
by seeking
by listening
by believing faithfully


****


Don’t take it down
far
You’re more than a notch,
More than a tool hanging
from a belt loop
Don’t take it
literally
or I’ll never admit truth


****


Bring me to life,
breath of ashes

I am returning
to a sinking boat,

swimming across great divides,
All to escape the flame


****


I almost forgot
to listen to your favorite album
and here we are
at month’s end
together again
and it just doesn’t
sound the same


****


She comes
as an orchid,
a weeping phantom
It’s how I know
the difference between dreams
& half-awake pleas
to make it all go away


****


I focus on heroes
hiding their faces
with only others’ survival in their hearts
who don’t care who knows them
saving strangers
in the dark


****


Farewell to lamenting
Relief fell
from a source unexpected
Problems dissected
Scratched surfaces
So much shame
in complaint
and redirecting


****


Open invitation for dancing

Sun begs Wind
Moving & changing

I became a river
Branches were my partners,
clinging to hope


****





The broken bathe in a crystal spring
guarded by the unicorn

Glittering clouds and healing powers
soothe the wounds of the storm


****


I can & I will
because they all say so
& I
can’t hold the weight
of their pain & disappointment
because I’m already
much too heavy


****


These skies are different
I miss afternoon threats,
Slate blue anger rolling through
Every afternoon,
Washing AM arguments away


****


I saw luminous cities
in puddles along the pave

Magical worlds in my rippling visions;
more to experience, more to save


****


When the tide turned,
they were a sea of prophets
with conflicting predictions,
floating on falsity,
& hypocrisy
til truth became desert ash


****


They cut
my thirsty yellow roses
just before the rain
Life is short
No being knows
how many moments
we have left
to be satiated


****


Tether
Endless love
She was
a beacon on the foggy beach
kicking up sand
She was glass in my feet
I held on to an
untamed wave


****


he walked on in love
& lightning in the east
illuminated all he’d left behind

storm showed
all of his heart
alive in his mind


****


Sunrise spectacle

Orb weaver’s
intricate patterns

Directing winds
that want to bring autumn
but the Gold One says nay


****


One touch
We were in each other
Testing waters
We should have tested the air
One breath
Essence lingers
We lost
touch
there


****


I kick summer out
Bon voyage, season of suffering
I’m too tired to throw you a party
I just toss your sandstorm to the wind


****


Like snow in September
you’re an unlikely dream
A rare phenomenon
I’ll catch you
& keep you safe
before you melt away


****


I’m here
in the after
with that awful August behind me
jotting down titles
& truth bits that hurt again
because I’ve stored up enough
to kill me


****


This vessel
is now taking deflation tips

This meat suit
is taking every abusive name

This body
is a book with wormholes

never the same


****


Nothing is more loaded than
“I’m proud of you”
Yes
Because I’m your big dream
who’s ten years away
from throwing it all
away
down your drain


****


In tact
I don’t want to be left
Period
But if I must
these jagged mirror pieces,
reflectors you insisted I wear at night,
will shine for you


****


Maybe visitors

I’m waiting for them
I tell them I’m excited

Can’t wait
(I mean it)
knowing they won’t show up

and maybe that’s alright


****


I went back to my roots
to the beginning
& the chaos within me
found balance
or at least a semblance
of a former abnormal reality


****


The reckoning would come

He said it shakily,
but with haunting conviction

and we could not jump into a screen
to save him


****





Warnings
of ambitions
“Don’t let them run away with you”
I ran from me, are you kidding?
I took a neon sign route
and got lost


****


I caught a whiff
of your ocean cologne
and it synchronized
with the new music
I’m absorbing for a weekend
of making soothing waves with you


****


Your tresses played tag
with the Autumn night
Crimson & copper
underneath the harvest moon
You wrap me up in crisp delight


****


the desert damp
welcomes winds of change
& a cooling resolve

summer’s last sigh,
hot breath on your neck,
salty skin dissolve


****


psithurism:
the rhythm
of growth
and change

shadows pass
and bring the quiet calm,
followed by moments
of nature’s soft caress


****


we danced in crisp, sunburnt leaves,
breathed in sharp blasts,
billowing clouds
from our mouths
surrounding the skeletal timber


****


Cool enough
to see the breath
of stars

Taurids,
Orionids,
they die
a colorful death

for us to enjoy
our equinoxes
& existence


****


The fall
spent missing you
I picked myself up
by winter
Flurries fell
spelling out your name
in spirals
chilling the pain deep


****


Illusion
gave way
Dropped veils
hummed and fluttered
Above ground now,
swept surface revealed
Dusted darlings,
shining like gold


****


Making the climb,
collecting gifts from mountaintops

Views & wisdom,
good intentions

Perspective
makes all the difference


****


Collide
like cars
like stars
like worlds
Wait you weren’t cliche

We repelled
like magnets
like oil
like water
We were disaster


****


The airport was a deep blue sea
I never learned to swim
but I drifted
straight to arms
of strictness
luring my fish bones in


****


You licked salt from the rim,
a blue haloed frost fairy,
bitter faced, matching temper,
lipstick stain
I am your teeth & glass


****


I tried to find you
in the weeping beech tree
Twigs & crisp leaves
cascade from your sky
& I am too blind
in your brilliance


****


angelic guidance
rose petal revelation
carry smoke to the stars
prayers leave hearts
as joy and peace
in instant manifestation


****


When I tried to pantomime a cannon
I missed the part
about lighting the spark
bc we fizzled
like the $5 champagne we had
& fell just as flat


****


You’ll be better for knowing truth
It’s an opportunity for healing
because baby, you’re attacking now

And we don’t want you starting
on yourself next


****


If we only have this night
then we’ll explore every grey corner
The shadows keep the time
so don’t forget them
Don’t forget me


****








Haiku:


fireside fuzzy socks
cinnamon coffee dreams talk
autumn spice alive


****


That city of fire
We cooled, valley deep, lived full
Couldn’t take the heat


****







VSS (Very Short Story):


The vulture circled above his head. The looming bird knew a cheater when he saw one. He’d haunt the thief until his death.


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Works in Progress (WIP):


“Stop fussing. We’ve all got something killing us. I’m not special.”
There was wisdom in his stubbornness.
If we judged too hard we’d miss it.


****

High beams are too bright
and I am tired of having to explain
how I can only see in the dark

                 —from “When They Said I Couldn’t Drive Anymore”

(I am working on a poetry collection right now that I’m not sure will be a chapbook or full length yet. I’ll be sharing the process with everyone on the blog. I have a lot of ideas for it and will be incorporating artwork in it. I’m thinking this collection will take me a whole year to work on and I’m very excited about it.)


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