January 2010
24 posts
VOLDEMORT.
To the one who held my mother prisoner between the walls of her flesh for three decades.
For he who’s name I dare not speak.
Dear Voldemort.
Do you sleep?
Do the ashes of the little ones you burned gag you
Do you cough dust.
Do strawberries ripe and red taste like the soot you left her with.
Does water drip like tar down your throat.
Do your finger tips blister when you reach for...
She tells me to marry rich.
As if I should stamp a numerical value across my breasts and smile.
Maybe I should swap my textbooks for cookbooks and smile.
Learn the intircesies of modesty rather then algebra
Empty the compartments of my heart filled with my hopes for tomorrow
and flood them with his name and smile.
Maybe I should give him my hand, my body and my last name.
After all...
What use is compassion
when bones remain.
Does the earth need to shake
for you to listen
for you to act.
Sympathy is a fair weathered friend.
There when the smoke has cleared
Blind when the match is lit.
Good hands
He tells me I’m in good hands.
His heart line is deep and constant
intertwined with the creases of his thumb.
Long tips hold the pictures of his insides.
He too has been bruised.
He tells me I’m in good hands.
But hands taught me fists and paper cuts.
Held me silent, held me beautiful.
Hands hurt healed and broke me.
Ripped my shirt.
but
Mended my jeans.
They are fickle...
Twist me.
into the knots of your back
around the striations
of summer and sand.
Pour me.
through the bends of your elbows
into to the gaps that remain between our bones.
Burn me.
to the dust that created us
save my whispers in the embers orange.
Sing me
in lullabies of lillies and hummingbird hyms.
to the sailors that near shore.
Wade-Lewis Poetry Slam Invitational →
brianomnidillon:
The under construction home page of WLPSI 2010
My father, The Lawyer.
Case 1 :
People vs. My father
The defendant:
My father
My father is a lawyer.
But today I will be representing him, defending him.
Because I am not a lawyer.
Therefore you do not think you know me or my intentions
I presume you will not have prepared ill mannered jokes or snide comments, yet.
May it please the court.
My father is a lawyer.
When I young I hated his office.
...
Is it possible my brain doesn’t remember how to sleep?
If mother’s hand could cure hurricanes
where would the nightmares go?
If faith could inflate lungs
and fill bellies
who would cradle the blame?
If words could fuse bones
Would your tongue curl?
mediocrity killed the cat.
Today was the scariest day of my life so far. ever.
1. I had strep throat for 4 days.
2. No antibiotics would work.
3. Last night I looked symptoms up online, because I hadn’t slept in days.
4. Went to the doctor today, asked him twice about what I looked up, he insisted i couldn’t have it.
5. Half an hour later he says “you’re right”. and rushed me into...
“Wanna shake every hand in the garden of eden
Wanna make every lover the love of...”
– Paul Simon
time.
3 am.
A timely reminder that your beds empty too.
4 am.
asleep at my computer.
6 am.
a blinding indication that the the world rotates on an axis of finite
not parallels of emotion.
that the center of universe does not wear jeans.
and that i left the blinds open.
9 am.
snooze button.
a plastic protector
from packed days
that are wonderful
and empty.
10 am.
shower.
freckles.
...
LMAO. Man commits crime with intention of being... →