The day I became a poet was a sunny day of no particular ominousness. I was scuttling along in my usual furtive way, suspecting no ill, when a large invisible thumb descended from the sky and pressed down on the top of my head. A poem formed. It was quite a gloomy poem: the poems of the young usually are. It was a gift, this poem – a gift from an anonymous donor, and, as such, both exciting and sisnister at the same time.
(Margaret Atwood, lecture on poetry writing)
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the tap tap tapping you hear
is my sneakered foot hitting the linoleum floor.
the shadows under my eyes
are darker under the white lights.
the hours lay on my shoulders
and weigh me down on my chair
my body warming a lonely me-shaped dent
on the cushions of my seat.
and still he is not here.
Posted at 02:18 am by peaches
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Wednesday, April 25, 2007 |
here i go
watch my hands,
move and stretch,
relax
and let go
here i go
watch my eyes
flinch and close,
pinch
and let go
here i go
watch my feet
turn and walk
run
and let go
there you go
Posted at 01:57 am by peaches
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when there are nothing more to say,
you say: there are no words.
i say: no more words
and sometimes a tear breaks
and creeps down the face
and sometimes nothing at all.
and all the promises
that this is the last time
my voice cracks and swears
fingernails drawing blood
and palms hiding.
lips swollen from pouting.
tomorrow morning
the sun and wind will remind me
that it was really
nothing at all
anymore.
Posted at 01:57 pm by peaches
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Wednesday, August 10, 2005 |
say the souls who'd like to try i lip-read and hear their voices in my head
i stare at people and read
"how are you?"
"how do you do?"
"how's life?"
on their faces
behind this pane of glass
i keep between me and the press
of people out there.
i'm scared of my skin grazing theirs
of hot breath and sweat behind my ears
so i smile in my cool artificial air
nod and brush my hair
and wonder what it's like to be
with people out there.
i push them but hold on to their wrists
thinking my decisions are way better than this,
this choice to be apart, by myself
and yet still be out of my cell
and know myself as i know them well,
the people out there.
Posted at 12:17 pm by peaches
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i say:
this is me,
from my hand-me-down clothes
with faded cats on the hem, and a
hint of a brownish stain on the sleeve,
pants that don't fit in the morning
and falling loose at the end of the day
slippers with miles on their worn, road-carved soles.
i say, they are fine,
memories and tastes of people suit me
my personality wears them
even better than they ever could.
i hate the bright white lights
in dressing rooms
and mirrors that shows every bump and
dimple too up close
and impersonal.
i hate picking out
something to love in between
hundreds of clothes,
hanging like skins drying out on a rack,
and seeing it on me.
too tight, too big.
my skin too pale and uneven under
the light. curves in wrong places.
shadows under my eyes.
and this is me.
you say:
their fine.
don't be silly
you need new clothes.
Posted at 01:58 am by peaches
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i have almost forgotten this
pain. this itch at the back of my throat
the slight ache under my belly button
everytime i am confronted
by ghosts of words that i cannot assemble
and i grasp at random parts of them
so i could write this line. this verse
right now to abate
this pain.
Posted at 11:07 pm by peaches
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Tuesday, February 08, 2005 |
because i always forget
(then i always remember again)
how our love is more of a glass heart
thin as a rose petal.
warm to the touch,
but incredibly fragile.
one word is enough
one memory
one thought can break it.
we must be careful not to
hold it too lightly
or too tight
one shake,
just a little pressure
so this is to remind me
in case i forget
and have to remember (again)
Posted at 10:19 pm by peaches
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Tuesday, November 30, 2004 |
she put all her world in this embrace.
she let the weight of him eclipse the world around her.
she wished that all that would remain and matter is this embrace.
That they could just live on this-
the interlocking of bodies fitting in each other's dips and curves
as if they were just one mended piece.
That they wouldn't need to speak
and find themselves arguing at the top of their lungs.
That they wouldn't let go to eat
only to have a day when they couldn't afford to.
That they'd be locked to each other in this embrace
that one of them wouldn't go where the other couldn't.
all she wanted was every breath taken together.
Their warmth driving all the aches away.
Just this. This embrace.
Posted at 12:00 pm by peaches
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Sunday, September 26, 2004 |
to those who have gone ahead come back
walk with me for a while
even when our hands seldom touch
it's easier to cross an
intersection
beside somebody who looks
both ways
takes the danger side
for you.
Posted at 02:58 pm by peaches
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Monday, September 20, 2004 |
i think i will write in straight sentences and blocks of paragraphs right now i don't feel safe with the broken structure of verses at this moment i need a warm hug without worrying if it's time to let go and if i can hang on to it forever much like the first time i fell in love it felt like i could fall for all time until i crashed to the ground and i could still taste the dirt in my mouth and it wasn't sweet or salty like the water out of my eyes i'm drowning in and i keep on sinking ogodidon'tknowwhatishoulddoanymore
Posted at 05:32 pm by peaches
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