×

Harvest MoonThree a.m. moonlight
across lazy dust motes; a
tree scrapes the window.
Your arm weighs on my hip like
whispered promises of love.

Davaothe equatorial sun
soft-etched on my skin,
there, del sur

islands away

the tan lines of shallow-bathing
in your eyes

there is so much time between

you
and
I

you spoil me, featherbreath
do i dare commit my memory
into dreams?

i laugh upon waking,
i did not realize--
i run when i go to you

starspunobserving the romanticism
of hooded cemetery kids,
smoking cigarettes pretending
they are not dead.

you were always so sure
about my uncertainty,
you watched
all my pick up lines
drop things.

we built the heat
of the evening from the solidity
of starlight,

pretended
that two teens at the park
at midnight
is the stuff of teen novels
(cliches dim on
our leaf-gold horizon)

your eyes darted
from the gray expanse
of the churchyard & wandered
in thoughtful
paths.

i wanted to ask you
if i could follow. shove
the words aside &
remember that i came here alone.

i remember our innocence
in the static b e t w e e n
stars

earth circuitAnd when the sun sinks, the earth's skin crawls:

I.
I wonder if this awkward creature would notice me the way I notice him.
He's so tragic at his throne
I stare after him longingly.
And yet,
He never realizes that I'm the one
Who forever basks in his brilliant beams.
If only he knew how much brighter he could burn
[with me]
He'd light up the universe.

II.
I heard him speak of thirst, once.
The quenching lust of the stars had run dry.
So that night, I brought along a jar of acid.
(And how it gleamed in his glow).
I handed it to him, wrapped in taffeta ribbons,
screaming
I wish curdling joy
On my gurgling boy

SolsticeOnce upon a time, when you were still sunlighthouses and shimmering existence wherever you were needed most, you found him. He was November, shaky on his first last legs, and you saw through the mind-twistings he feigned to the mind-twistings that were really there, knotted up in his dreams.

You were still birdsong then, and thunderstorms, and your bodyheat melted the frost claws that held him tight. You held onto him as his November deepened. When he howled, you howled with him, and the wind played with your voices and pressed the softness of your lungs against your cageribs—and then against each other's.

November became solstice, and

on watching the night close its eyes on you1. I will not tell you
you are pretty.

How can the halls and angles of such honest humanity
be so pinched between sounds as elementary as these?

2. You need not be two stringent boughs of syllables
nor weave your viney bones abreast these five petty letters,
whirling in the fire of the river
Styx.
Do not attempt to peel yourself layer for layer,
leaving all the disgust behind.
Do not tally your body six &

Liquid Cityhere, at the bottom - lovers.
there are lovers disassembling
themselveslost in and to the
desperate motion in
of - waves.

- did you think the continents
moved themselves? see them slip,

in an open sleep. less go, come.
come and, and - again. trembling

here, at the bottom - their eyes
are lightless. hollow bodies left
restless,

the sea does not sleep.

in the seams(a) when I was young I was a robin that stole the eggs from another's nest.
fitted upon my stare there was a warning –
personal's too personal for me, well i
would not use wings if i had 'em.

a child of rye with a silhouette spoiled by the sun, I was, I am.

and sometimes I see some vengeful sparrows still under my fingernails;
their glistening beaks snap melodies that rib a hundred bird-bone cages,
so light you could blow 'em away with a twist of your lungs.

and there are still words jailed between my teeth and my tongue and I do not speak of,
do not think of
them,
but they rattle between bone and flesh and I
drown them s

ich liebe dichdaylight wakes me up and i turn into the green moth on the windshield.
a few months ago i would have died to be someone with the same kind of pulse
as you. i wanted to know what it felt like to breathe your same
air and listen to the fabrication of your words, your lies like lists of things
you wanted me to hear, essays crafted to the palaces of my mind.
you knew what i wanted because you know the architecture of so many women—
not seeing my poisonous nature, the blisteringly sweet aftertaste that crumples
you into me again, again, again, each hit better than the last. together
we chase the dragon, needing more and more of each o

Like petals and leavesWhen she thinks of him, she thinks of tree branches:
spindly fingers spread out, stretching
in angles wide for handfuls of sky.

And she thinks of him.

She thinks of him digging his toes
into soft, damp sand,
wading in shallow depths before
being carried by crescents of the sea.

She thinks of him in a blur of curls, in the
warmth on her waist and the coolness on her lips,

pressing the memories and the maybes
like petals and leaves
to paper.

And she thinks of him.

sci-fi stories about the end of the world1.

the species invents prophecies
all of which contain terrors

ex;

a beleaguered sun collapses into itself

2.

It's not yet night when the committee interrupts the regularly scheduled programming
and describes the inertia as unforgivable.

Outside the grief, the cardboard:
Every time you teach a computer about distance
the terrorists win.

In every scenario: No colorado left,
and survivors leave messages
for the future.

Before the last people on Earth forgot how to speak,
he thought of that day.

The committee was right
to describe space as an absence.

3.

The more artistic
of the species' prophecies include fields

Some
prese

001 i am a whirlwind of
bruised knees
(purple)

an aching heart
(dark blue)

twisted guts
(red)

&
a regret that could
crumble mountains.
(green-green-green)

Whale Songs of the PacificListen, the girls swallowed by whales are the ones that grow up lucky.

Listen, no one will warn you about the little boys with the magpie eyes and the fists swinging splinters of glass. No one will warn you that their smiles are sweeter than their words are sweeter than their souls are sweeter than their intentions. No one will warn you of the sheer weight of the world.

Listen, sometimes girls are fragile. Sometimes girls are frothy. Sometimes girls let boys nuzzle "I love you"s into their necks and sometimes girls drink the wine of believing them.

Listen, sometimes the boys really are sweet, and little girls' tart puckered mouths can't ta

judgementif you could see the bulletholes,
the brittle bones,

or if you could see me on a saturday,
with a cigarette between my lips,

a handwritten note clenched
in one fist, that contains
only a single word

goodbye

would you still smile
when you saw me on your porch
sunday morning?

despondenti.

"are you sleepy today?"
"yes."
"but you were sleepy yesterday."
"i know."

ii.

she stirs her pomegranate green-tea until it turns from clear to purple
setting it on her bedside table and climbing back into bed again.
her fingers follow the bluer-than-usual constellation veins on her wrists and down
to the freckle on her forearm and then the scar on the inside of her elbow
crossing the tendon as if it were crux.
and then she remembered that God hasn't been with her lately.

iii.

today is long and sunny but when she steps outside the humidity creaks her bones
and her skin starts to inflame.
she assumes that if getting the mail

Browse More Like This

More from *queenofrelax

seven keys widewith dry hands i try
to listen to the contours of my body
and the songs they sing,
maybe i am there
in the voice
of my skin
and the stamp
of my scent, only i cannot identify
it on my own,
and there are no perfume-mirrors
for me to see if i am sweet
or so chokingly bitter,
and i try to taste the hum of me
only notes are lost
between the gaps of a
cats cradle tongue,

and i try to tune the strings
but my hands
are so very
dry

dimmers (collab)maybe i thought it would be grand
some avalanche, some whirlwind
because it was a sort of disaster, to me
the slow kind though
the forming of a ghost town
the sleepy climb of a foreign cell

but it was more of a cloud of dust
in the end
that rose up a few feet
and poured in around my hands,
ones that you used to press
absentmindedly to your lips
before

before, i did think about it,
the fuzzy outline
of a finish line
like fishing-line
strung up between our legs

and we would shuffle and trip, i knew
i just never though it would end in dust

-

maybe i thought it was brilliant,
a world wonder of flesh and soul
a volcanic erup

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preludes

by *queenofrelax, Nov 23, 2012, 4:45:13 AM
Literature / Poetry / General Poetry / Free Verse

i.
blue rose into the city backdrop
like balloons, a million for the
morning sun prelude.

ii.
i've not slept a dream
but i have cried a salty face
and letters spilled like beans
into my moleskine,
almost as virgin as i once was
with few stories between my covers.

iii.
the kettle's belly boils
like my head upon a pillow.

iv.
i am guilty for rarely finishing my tea
even when i use the small mugs;
pour, rinse, repeat.

v.
perhaps today i will play dead.

vi.
perched behind my blinds
it dawns on me that i am surrounded
by walled neighbours, strangers,
they're just preludes to lovers
the way i am always
prelude to the one.

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preludesby *queenofrelax

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one night of insomnia and i can't put the pen down

featured? [link]!
and here: [link]

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Submitted on: November 23, 2012
File Size: 880 bytes
Submitted with: Sta.sh

Views: 2,993
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Comments: 32
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Daily Deviation

Given 2013-01-15

preludes by *calmandreposed feels honest and personal as it slides into an interesting perception of reality. ( Suggested by *Mrs-Freestar-Bul and Featured by `thorns )

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~AnotherPassenger Feb 20, 2013 Student General Artist

The title of your poem was used here <3

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*queenofrelax Apr 14, 2013

cool!

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*imaginative-lioness Feb 16, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

This is absolutely incredible, you are so talented. The words you have written captured me instantly, you have a gift.

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*queenofrelax Feb 16, 2013

oh goodness, thank you so much! that is wonderful of you to say <3

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*imaginative-lioness Feb 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

You have also been featured in my journal: [link]

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*queenofrelax Apr 14, 2013

thank you! <3

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*imaginative-lioness Feb 17, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Oh, you're welcome! I just can't get over how beautiful this is ♥!

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`vespera Jan 15, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

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*queenofrelax Jan 16, 2013

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=schongslipper Jan 15, 2013 Hobbyist Writer

Congratulations on the daily deviation!

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