Aley's Log
9 posts in this topic.
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Bwahahaha my spot.
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Spoiler
You told me ...
that you love me, that I'm beautiful,
that I make you happy and that I'm funny.
You told me ...
you miss me when we've not seen each other for weeks
yet you go play cards, see movies, hang out with friends
You told me ...
you were interested in poetry, in literature, in history
in more than magic, pizza, and jurrasic eras
You told me ...
that you love me, but each time we see, you claw
for my skin, not my soul, my heart could be vacant
and I wonder if you would know.
You told me ...
that beautiful is what you see, but my doubts are strong
like thick legs, round stomachs, and bloated puzzle pieces
mish-mashed like marshmellows with bones.
You told me ...
you don't want to take charity, and yet
I want to see you successful and we cannot
pull ourselves out of quicksand
You told me ...
you're strong, independant, capable, free
yet the hole in your carpet catches my toes
the oven-room is too small for your bed
and the springs bruise my legs as we cling
together in sweat, struggling to converse.
You told me ...
you miss me, but you refuse to drive.
you refuse to learn
you refuse to limber
You told me ...
you love me, and I love you too
so I bruise my legs, scrape my toes
lay in a sauna, and pepper you with my love.
This is not confessional. Fictional. -
Spoiler
Big and fluffy green
strong branches crawl
through the bright blue sky
the grasses sway and swish
as I watch you in the distance
high upon the sloping hill
sleepy campsites
crawl with weeds
each one empty as the
cobweb-filled greeting booth
Pay your fee to the box
trust you'll be honest in
the good old country high
above the light air trees
Try to breathe the casual air
alone among the beech
Moo he screams
beside me
loud as grazing cattle are
crawling through the
ghost camps. -
Spoiler
Starlight kisses my sugarbeats
with contagions crawling
into my gut and warming
my lungs and tickling my tummy.
You glow like marigolds
inside a field of violets
and each caterwal
contorts my funnybones
I adore you with the
barbeque and bathe
you in oatmeal to
sanitize your mudpies
padding across the floor
clack-platting paws
with a nose shruken
by the mud you dug.
I love your twitches at midnight
and your hyperglow.
I hope you never go. -
Spoiler
You glow, marigolds
invade the violets.
Each caterwaul
contorts my funnybones
I adore you, smelling
barbeque and
oatmeal baths. You
sanitizes your mudpies.
A pawprint pasted floor.
A nose shruken
the mud you dug.
I love your twitches
A clockwork. It's midnight.
You are neon wrapped blankets.
I hope you never go.
this is the same poem as before but now it ONLY has pronouns, nouns, determiners, verbs and ONE adverb [never] >D -
Sonnet
Spoiler
A swallow soared above the forest brush.
She dances slow, a willow reed as bird
without her river mate. She went on, spurred
to seek her soul within the forest lush
and green. She dove and swirled but nothing sturred
no greeting, no fellow, an empty fate.
Unlaiden high above, she lay in wait
for one to sing with harmony in word.
But still, no whistle; lonely gliding state.
She circled, hoped she outpaced her feathered
date. Distance closing, movements drift, weathered,
a swallow cried for swallow reeds it ate.
She meets, and glides, a tip to tip with oak
despite his melancholy olden croak. -
Spoiler
Sun beat down, a lazy Bob
interested in only the final lull
of work. He called us Datu
and Een and told us we
said it wrong. "Tatooine" said Bob
as he fed us purple
fruit, sweet when ripe or
deliciously bitter
the longer you waited. In May
he would visit with us
and laugh about the Datu
farming, making tools, calling him
oh almighty back when we met them
but we are older now. More mature
this warm blueberry summer -
Spoiler
moonbeams crawl across
the shivering night, grass pale
as ashes, crickets
trill, fireflies dancem frogs croak
and I breath in the summer
fall tickles my throat
an unwelcome guest chasing
moths beneath my roof
to snuggle in my blankets
a winter snack, final meals
frogs are nipped by frost
birds are grown and flee southward
seeking asylum
from Northern invasions
as the first troops land tonight
tanka x3 -
Spoiler
He is the king of castles brightly
lit and tightly shut, warding off
the evils of the night. Our sightly
warrior, a peacock who will scoff
at your pain, to tease it away
with laughter, and tickles, and hug
so tight your back cracks in delight.
The discomfort soothes out with play.
All he asks is a special mug
to say he is The Best Dad in full light.
Horatian Ode
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