|don't thank me.|
I know you appreciate it.
PrescienceI shall die with words like minnowsPrescience by riparii
still attached to the strings of my heart,
swimming like sperm, jostled and mad,
bearing the prologue of life, the opening bars,
the glorious first drone of the chanter
that moves blood in the way of volcanoes to war,
to explosion, the crepuscular exuberance of dawn,
these minnows attached to the shimmering veins.
But the little darlings get confused in the shadows,
panic when light breaks above the tiny Os of their heads,
while the heart-pole bends
like the long slim fingers of a willow,
down, pointing down to the cress-edged creases
and rocky seams of the cold water shallows
that only the babies of the brook trout know,
beneath the laughing poplar and the somber pine,
where water striders tickle the surface of the quiet pools,
like children tracing raindrops on the glass panes
of a grey-lit room on the longest day of their lives,
I will die like minnows, still attached.
Hunting CoyotesMoon-eyed, taut-eared,Hunting Coyotes by riparii
one paw light above the stream.
heavy with a winter kind of hope;
you thought I would shatter
with the sharp bark of the gun,
but afterlight still sparkles
in a spray of wet pearls along my sides.
I am cold teeth, I am the blood-stopping snare.
Still-LifePerhaps now, I can finally write of romance; a tale with a story book encounter and all the stereo typical heart felt babble that goes alone with it. Probably not unlike many you’ve read, but I suppose it’s all relevant to somebody.Still-Life by Jaybird101
I suppose it starts with a name; not as cliché as one might think, but appropriate. Willow understood the words, their meaning. She was all too familiar with the stone-throws of life and their impact. Bright eyed and insightful, she was a true student of human nature and she learned it well. Perhaps too well for someone her age, but then again, eighteen was enough for me, so twenty-seven was probably enough for anyone.
She had a real eye for magic, a taste for still-life; capturing rare moments of raw uninhibited beauty with the snap of her finger. Now, I would never fancy myself as worthy of such an eye. The world can be an ugly place and sometimes we grow ugly right alone with it. So you could imagine my surprise when she took my pictur
UntitledI'm not sure;Untitled by staphysagria
my hands don't remember how to write, and
my mind isn't used to sharing -
in words, at least
there are days when I want to cut parts of my body off;
my stomach and legs and all the places girls don't like
and I know what I need to do to be well; sabotage
I have a boy who loves me and today we ran around in the garden
he says I am beautiful
for a moment I thought my cluttered room was making
my lipid stores cluttered: if I clean and clean, I'm clean
and then, maybe not
if I look at enough girls I can feel sad enough too
I went home and found my awards for being clever
and wondered what changed,
and if I can change it back
I'm not sure