Monday, March 7, 2011

bygone cloud

like a hand that holds an ankle,
I felt powerful in your arms
this dancing, this pointed push, this bygone cloud.
with my face in your belly- I curled myself inside
a spinning, dizzied head with girl-hair flying.

raining. droplets squeal and suckle mother pane. wash it clean.

Darling, hearths awaken inside of here,
and outside chilly winds dispute,
your warmth undying, I do not drift.
I swim in tears to your willowy shore.
depart from this-haphazard nonsense-
I am clinging to your trunk.

and I will only point to clouds
silent, white, and empty.
Posted by at

2 comments:

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Reach for the clouds. . .

Tickle your toes. . .

  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 4
    Though it hasn't been months since I have written and attempted edits within my memoir, it has been quite some time since I have reflect...
  • (no title)
    Cal, For Elizabeth Bishop You are American gossip, Didn't anyone have the heart to tell you? You said yourself, you are fantastic and u...
  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 5
    Recently I have been really attempting to delve into what it means to be a poet. Jim Morrison once wanted to be a poet, and look where it go...
  • full of coins
    hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
  • Wallflowers
    stuck-wallpaper, tickled, matted-madness, in the morning before matinee wallflowers at school dances just want to be asked. ask them. they...
  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 6
    My latest endeavor is to begin reading "Tell it Slant: Writing and Shaping Creative Nonfiction" by Brenda Miller and Suzanne Paula...
  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 3
    I took a week off from writing this lovely, to take a bite out of a creamy, syrupy, delicious chunk of my memoir. I have begun to tackle the...
  • A girl in a shabby green coat, on a railway-station platform
    motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
  • flirty
    lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
  • Dear Diary:
    The one day that I am home sick is the one day that everyone goes on a balloon ride. Just my luck. You know, it's funny how they always ...

Poets United Contributor