I was alive before I met you. The sun rose every day, Bringing light under crevices, chasing Shadows into corners; The wind pulled my hair like A teasing child, and The moon sang her orange solo, Awaiting the sound of the wolf’s. I wrote sometimes, cooked a bit And smuggled sleep out of my pillow…
Tag: poetry
Pumpkin Spice [micropoem]
Like the discarded jack o lanterns Marking the season, I walk, a woman carved out, Without love or reason.
Open Casket
Eyes meet Strangers in a bedroom now Furtive looks away Trying to conceal the embarrassed I normally don’t do this They lie politely Taking turns reaching into the other Looking for a piece of themselves They cannot possibly recognize Too young to be properly alive Vows they gave to an idea Are the closet corpses…
immolation [a poem]
Immolation from the inside; out – The searing of bridges aflame yet can’t be burned Indestructible bonds White hot brandings Against the interior of ribs Breathe (deep): into the water dive – wait it out on the ebb and flow of the universe’s directives time will cool what destiny forged.
kesmet (an excerpt)
It is an epic. It is unfinished. So there is this… Inevitably, my name will be spoken On the undercurrent of every love line, and Every syllable of speech unspoken of things on the mind, Echoes from his heart. We collided, smashing this dimension Into a million sparkling pieces And rebuilt, me within him, him…
the hypocrite stage
I can’t say I’m a fan of spiteful writing, yet we are all entitled to a moment of passive aggression and I’ve lately seen too much not to want to just “put it out there.” So, after some days of debate and in lieu of something more personal and abstract to the audience at large…
love is a grassroots tactic [a poetic]
(Edited throwback) Ra, ra, ra, I was sent for love. Let’s start a movement, Spread love like roots Revitalizing the yard of our Mother’s planted intentions, weeded over by the hate and put downs Of the downtrodden, Trampled by colonial boots that Forced a garden cut with bloodsoaked stones and hemmed by abnormal picket fence,…
[autoimmune]
You look And I feel my skin crackle just beneath the surface I’m aflame from the inside Mind providing the kindling I’m losing sense of — You look at me And the chubby china doll face splits open But no sound comes out Save the snapping of heat filling my ears On fire from the…
what the moon wrote [a poetic]
You drag your feet assuredly forward Stiff back and peeping eyes casually checking corners For view of another set of eyes. Constant audience you crave, New prey to your ideas, So you welcome the world to the foot of your door (though they aren’t enough) And hold them at arms length that you may relish…
(They ask me how is my husband) [a micropoem]
Wrapped up in a type of permanence No alloy band or stamped certificate Could ever every convey, We made camp in one another But, accidentally, called it “home.”
until the next time [a poem]
my love like wine made us drunk. stumbling over skipped heart beats and broken guards we carried each other over the threshold of fear squinting unconsciously against the blinding vulnerability of lovers that let go of yesterday and tomorrow crashing into one another like turning 21 ignoring the consequences like foresight was a made-up curfew…
we met in the rain [poem]
We met in the rain. I shivered and you offered me your coat, opening your arms so I could walk in your warmth. I embraced you. Huddled close under my meek umbrella you lifted for us, I held your hand to help steady it against the winds, and we tiptoed and slipped from puddled shore…
Sharkey Speaks 