Audy

Even the winds have trouble breathing

An atheist struggling with religion.

Melancholy, heavy, despair, bitter, emptiness, anger. It all sheds away eventually.

When you haven't written in a long time and it feels like talking to an old friend you have once betrayed. The unconscious playing tricks & pinwheels.

About the pain of losing a mother, and two siblings who need to support one another.

Rated for Content I want for you to say, who's that french maiden in that accent of yours, unsullied, shameless goo goo l'amour. And I'll promise to shave ...

Based on Ellen Akins' "What I do"

Stairway to bruises.

Be not my worldfor if you were my worldthen your laughter becomesthe earthquakes rattling my bones;and those tears trail downas rain, poisoning my not my world,where your voice resembleswind: to ...

another poem

I felt like being dramatic this morning.

Some joys are hot and spicy.

Poem about flowers and reading included.

Fun fact- a collective of fox is called an "earth". Makes me wonder what combination of animals can claim the moon.

Jigsaws.

the mythology of mermaids.

I know a friend who has purple hair, it's pretty rad.

Some of my childhood memories in the present tense turn corrupt.

An orange egret lost her home. I wanted to do something akin to Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven.

Like omg. Let's get some shoes

There's the one who hoards everything, leaving behind pieces in the world. Then, there's the one who burns the world inside of her as though her fuel.

Today I am feeling a little betrayed, a little heart broken, a little lost and a whole lot of emotions.

Falling conversations and lost children

About the South, and the nature of homes, and life and stuff.

When getting into other people's business, French people say an expression like "Mind your onions"

Penny rings are a step up from ring pops, just saying.

A mole dreams, a mole sleeps. 18+ to be on the safe side for some crude language.

Gamophobe means you have a marriage phobia, and sushi means sour tasting, so you marry the a recipe and a poem and it's like disaster right? I hope.

Just an experiment.

goose country

AN: A bit of a warning as it's filled with personal references. My dad and I have a bit of a complicated relationship. I'm a bit early for father's day ...

What happens after you crack? Something to do with eggs, prolly.

If you want to see something sappy, then you've come to the wrong place.

of loneliness and insecurities

mothers and daughters and moths

She who freezes hearts.

frogs, dissection, and trains

*nom* *nom*

Shadows, love, and fish.

A poem about phobias and loss.

A blues about green thumbs. Let's go with that.

A chat poem play thing!

Our relationship is framed and I am your seedless pear, the one you call your still-life wall prize. Such art! curves and simple lines! you ...

For anyone who's faced with rejection.

I look at us grown in business suits and I'm left reliving a time when we wore pastel frocks, our posteriors in the air poised like fluffed ducks under lemindigo ...

later, you would lament the days you didn't become a space cadet. you were little enough then to hide inside nana's womb pot, a drainer on your head to keep ...

five fingers on the wheel on drive before you slam before the light a body can reel up free, but gets caught in the net, like perpetual deja vu screeching ...

Boy folds love in cranes delicate the way paper kisses his palms hours later there are thousands ...

Atlantis sinks in a glass sea, a skipping stone's distance from assailing thunder, and still it drifts further from my reach, leaving me marooned in agony. I try to reel ...

A narrative poem of pistachio girl and her lions.

If only I could taste by ear, I’d have myself a six-pulse slice of pumpkin-pomelo pie. And with each syllabic pound of breath I’d compose the recipe of six weeks ...

One hates to love One loves to hate The two of them relate. One fights for love One loves to fight Neither are in the right. One kills to love ...

The fish jump over the bridge, soaring upstream to reach the high waters. They catch plump flies, green, that float just below silver boughs of summer days stretched taut. To ...

Rated for content and language. Black bags billow through, like half-imagined tumbleweeds, across plantations of scrapers and irrigated subway streams like congested pools of polluted blood. This here

Another bite of that pizza slice,dignity chewed up in wads to swallow.Seems tasty, but I'm getting fat and tired,gray hair as stringy as the gooey cheese.I pluck out pepperoni to ...

Happy birthday, I am quite right twentyhaving been cursed for this latter decade to sharea date with terrorism, but no matter how longI sit and stare and wait alone (party ...

a companion and stylistic-twin for Lumi's true masterpiece here. your truths expose shadows come alive to fright. rippling, it smothers my sense of what is right, squashed and smashed, ...

you know what they say, what a guy keeps in his locker, stays in his locker? well, I used to steal your microscope the one locked up in chains. the ...

I was just a hundred yards awaywhen I saw her slender frame.If I reach out my hand,I could embrace her betweenthumb and forefinger.She had her back to mewhen I had ...

I wrote this a long time ago, I've probably edited it about a thousand times, but let me know if I've missed anything, I'm prone to silly mistakes I just ...

Today’s been gay protestors in hundred and eight degree weather stifling we who are revolting together, censorious skin on skin. The mind turns and crawls back to tomorrow’s Kafka lines ...

I would’ve loved to change the world somehow… Just me, a frizzy haired kid with a blog and a cigarette-fuming will to set the skies ablaze if I could. I ...

Strollers come to this cobblestone walk to trample over my pebbled eyes,too much have I glimpsed only shadows of him, in sunlight absorbed by me.The avenue boils up heat until ...

So I see you strive to be a poet, sweetheart,yet you don't write anything down, justdraw me out and draft demands, do you? More concrete and less vague, honey.I have ...

Locker door creakily opens revealing memories tacked to the side of the door.Photograph of old, discarded and peeling face not so fervent and friendly anymore.Suddenly, the air gets thick, remembering

Ta. Wrote this as I was listening to Love Letter to Japan, from the Bird and the Bee. You'll see their influence. To Buddha Land, I hold a white canvas ...

The cold hurts,before their bodies turn numb, it devours them-- chews them up and spits them out until they're nothing but shattering bones piled up against the wind. I see ...

The marriage of two incompatible poems.

To know each and every hill between us, the rise and fall of your breaths-- but this is just batshit crazy! I stick my tongue fruit-rollup frogwise so that I ...

We walk as tightrope artists do: a limb by limb gamble of dances and distance, bends and stretch, ease and unrest we are the tip-toes of a spider's leg shimmying ...

You taunt me and you mock me, this secret of yours withhold yet I spied and pried discreetly, and sorry was my tortured soul-- that I could ever betray your ...

A villanelle about insomnia.

I know,as you will come to know, or might have already known, the most profound word in all of language. Its power manifests itself as twine, tethering realities in latex ...

An acrostic poem.

about wandering lost, identity crisis, and pain

for peng the gentle typesmith

Kisses and cliches.

A girl marries the wind. A revised draft about reincarnation, death, and life's purpose.