| Late |
[ |
January 7th, 2009
@10:57pm
| | ] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Hungry For A Holiday - The Album Leaf & Bright Eyes |
] |
I love this song.
|
|
|
| 2 Poems |
[ |
January 3rd, 2009
@07:40pm
| | ] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Dark Eyes - Calexico & Iron & Wine |
] |
A child dressed up as
a football player -
but she crys with
the helmet
over her head,
no one hears her
panic through the
thick, sticky
plastic
sparingly, she wipes
sweat from her hands,
breathing deeper and
deeper
until it's silent
in her head.
-she's dead.
/
( Inspiration : White Oleander by Janet Fitch )
Mother's calling,
can't you hear?
Rattling my bones,
breaking my weight.
I shiver in her arms
of hate -
real striking
ice, simmering
down in her brow,
to her
unmistakable
knife -
sharp eyes.
Burning, cutting
strife.
I shiver, once more.
Her nurturing hands were
filled with waste, I
choked on her "meaningful"
quotes and attentions.
A land - fill acquisition
of my childhood.
I called her mother,
because she broke
it into me, broke
my bones to
mend with hers
until I no
longer knew
which was hers
and
which were mine.
|
|
|
| A Poem. |
[ |
October 30th, 2008
@05:53pm
| | ] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Something of An End - My Brightest Diamond |
] |
over my shoulder, the air bitter;
I wanted it there.
Brushing swiftly, deftly - raising the hairs on my arms,
close like shivering,
ice encrusted windshields.
I hold my tongue.
It's rivers there, rivets in between - do I see my frame?
outlined against the barest sky, grey
eyes hold me back.
Touch me, I shutter. It's murmurs fighting
outloud with bashing cans
of the shrillest teenage screams,
film-school-scary movie variety.
My choice,
among all the ones.
I choose.
The lips so close to the chin,
all I ask is that they touch, once,
one time, one tense, one kind
moment unraveled and over
and over shifted among my weight.
The sound across my lips to your
lips.
Just words, I say.
Just words.
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arastarred's journal