Happy Friday, everyone! I was asked by Zay Pareltheon to participate in Scrittura’s “Thinking About Poetry” series, and my response was published here. Thank you for inviting me to participate, Zay. I enjoyed writing it far more than I imagined!
groping in darkness
finding us
solace in cursed woods
escaping colors
we immersed
smearing our real worlds
she lured me to realms
of too much
and of not enough
just like a warm bath
she met me
where touch craved her most
soft, yielding dancer
I held you
synched by our music
Originally posted on Medium by Barry Dawson IV for A Cornered Gurl.
Photo by Thomas Tucker on Unsplash
night conceals atrophy and decay
but it happens all around us
what binds us will fall away
our flesh and bone to dust
give me your answer
before we rot
I love you’s
heard by
none
***
Originally published at A Cornered Gurl on Medium for the Nonet the Night challenge. Special thanks to Tre L. Loadholt for hosting this challenge.
Photo by Ihor Malytskyi on Unsplash
night skitters across silent rooftops
mad starless gales howl “could have beens”
midnight sleet spittles “what-ifs”
shapeless trees shush regret
things go bump in it
as it settles
night mutates
shaping
dreams
***
Originally published at A Cornered Gurl on Medium for the Nonet the Night challenge.
Photo by Nik MacMillan on Unsplash
I bet the sad part
of the love of your brief life
kicking the bucket
on laundry day is you still
gotta finish her frickin’
laundry.
I hope nobody
can vouch for this, and I pray
she can before me.
***
Originally posted on Medium.
Photo by Sebastian Unrau on Unsplash
“You look good all dressed up”
a voice said, and I turned
to see her two grey eyes fixed
upon me, devouring my contrasts
and contours, reading my reactions
as if she knew I’d always wanted
for her to say something, anything
to me, knowing I wouldn’t know
how to reply as I stammered out
a cheesy, but sincere “well, uhm,
you look good anywhere” retort
that made her snort, her crooked
smile twinkling down upon me
from the declining escalator we
both shared that seemed to descend
endlessly into the gutter of dirty
things I wanted to do with her that
made me blush as if she could
read my intimate thoughts on what
had to be the protruding horns of
my corny forehead that she reached
out to touch gently, having heard my
thought that said “please, for the love
of everything holy, reach out to
touch me gently, or even not so gently,
I don’t even care, thank God you’re
here-” my thirst interrupted and
quenched by a tender kiss and a soft
reminder that it’s time for me to end
the escalator ride towards the center
of us and awaken to the real world,
and much like my dream, this poem
will end abruptly with a vague sense of
dissatisfaction.
***
Originally posted on Medium.
Shared on dVerse OpenLinkNight #255 hosted by Grace. Other poets have shared here.
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