Young Writers Society

Aw, thanks Jasmine and Kamas.


April 23rd - tham

a bowlful of geese
with aerodynamically shaped beak pads
fly through the sign of Aquarius
this time every day,
but I always blink
when they do and miss them:
I shouldn't blink, right, and
neither should sparrows
but geese do, ever so eloquently

like the sparkle in a bike spy's eyes,
and not a lash in my coffee cup
dare whimper when ming dynasty
knocks on the door, asking for
the beak pads – one was of jade and they
need it –
but the geese are gone
and in a sharp V
they break

the sound barrier

"like the sparkle in a bike spy's eyes,"

You know I've been a fan of this entire thread, but I have to say that this is the best imagery so far.

April 24th - dare to wish to live to see

dare to wish to live to see
what they planned for you and me
I, for one, can't wait to know
but if you're scared, you're free to go:
I have no rights to keep you here –
yet what would stop you but your fear?
The way I see it, up to you
is determine what you want to do
But mark my words: if you leave now,
just make sure to take a bow
before you go, for when you're back
the first thing you'll notice is the lack
of your companion – that is me –
and the life I wish to live to see.

April 25th - forget-me-nots

you spilled the beans on the front steps
and our heads knocked together
when we crouched down to pick them up
some got smashed under our feet
but I think we managed to find the rest
apart from the ones three the memories ate
you said you'd give me a wand as a thank you
and your skin turned to corduroy
and you looked very old.
I smiled but though but I don't didn't want it
I wanted chestnuts you stole with the magpies
last the week before
or slippers with polyester insoles
but not a wand
because when you stand sleep under the big fir tree
I just know the cones will fall on your head
and wake you up.
so I place the clump of forget-me-nots
on your stone and sit and wait
for your eyes to open.

April 26th -

the first half of my ignorance
was poured into the pond, I don't know
if you saw the dreadful
spirals it made among the watergrass
it says go
though the other half I put in my pocket
every morning and carry it around
through avoiding bumblebees and milkmen
and picking up the fidelity
you wrap around your fingers
like a twirled curl of a promiscuous secretary
and while it should be me looking like
a novel character on picnic and you
sitting on a wasp's nest,
it's often the other way round and free of charge
my neck burns in the sun
but who knows, maybe I'll sweeten
your evening tea with a drop
of nail polish
or two

April 27th - remorse

i lost your love letter.
the moon river cries for me and
eyes of andromeda narrow and darken
if only I knew where
I can still feel the scent of your
cursive, especially the lower case g's
that so remind strands of silken hair flowing
down a lady's back
I read it in my tower at dusk
and by dawn it was gone
as well as my draft for reply
and my mother's engagement ring
frowning its forgotten lust
falling on me
but oh! who could have taken it,
the letter, them
if another pair of eyes does consume it
I will be locked away
and so will you, but another away
and with many moonfalls absorbed in my skin
will you not know me anymore

April 28th -

don't read anything. no. nothing.
I said no. and when you've read it
don't say anything. nada. zip.
and what have they.
it is not my fault I swear.
I swear it is not my
fault it's hers and theirs I swear.
_______it was my idea.
don't say anything how many times do I have to
just go. can I go? you go. me? fine.
you _are _an _e x p e r i m e n t _in _this _world
an experiment
is ugly in every form
and worse in times new roman

close the door
behind
you
please
.

April 29th -

I dreamt of peaches
the night lightnings
hit our house and set
the silverware on fire.
you raised my fist on your lips
and all I wanted to save
was the wilted picture
of her you always watched
and fondled
the earring she wore in it,
the lime drop one,
and supposed its pair had lost forever -
the pair I sometimes wore
pretending I was her,
the pair that has been in
my jewel case for years -
and it's still there
but we're here
and we're not going back

for I kiss your eyelids
closed

April 30th - the not-so-grande finale

I know you lie every time
you mention the words
pathos, occasionally
and/or asparagus
and I know you want
an ending with icebergs
and twenty-minute kisses
and while I know
I'm not in my prime
I also know that
it's not going
to happen to you,
whatever you wish for
because you think wrong -
you have to know
how to begin well
before learning
to finish better

You're DONE! Whoo!
no more stalking nowz. D: