You can ask as often as you like: I still have no drama to offer no tension or strife to feed you You must find someone else to exhaust with your intrigues I have nothing to bleed for you today
Tag: free-verse
Melon
Today I saw a man embrace a prize-winning melon He was so proud of what his love had wrought Every day he watered shaded, sheltered as he marveled at its girth and the mottled emerald skin How lucky to love like that a heart full of the sweet and ephemeral always here, now
Weightless
I can go a whole day one of a kind object of curiosity beside myself participant, witness floating, weightless
Words
What can I say to you about you without wounding? My every word a weight by which you judge yourself success or failure I cannot bring myself to injure you with what I think is true Facing such profound fragility and infantile defense it is only cruelty to convey How far short you fell from what my small heart needed all along
Flood
The torrent swift and rising compelled me south I reached to you that we might be saved together You already knew how to walk on water waltz on air
Tehran
Of the places in the world we are not welcome this is one Which, of course makes the idea all the more compelling I pause and wonder at the destinations in myself I have declared forbidden And what permissions must be sought to meet myself there
Stranger
What inside you needs healing needs loving disturbs your sleep and wakes you with sharp points? What have you been stuffing down sitting on carrying in odd packages and bundles? You hope one day a stranger will come and relieve you No one ever told you: You can give it all away
Zero F*cks
I want to love this world fast and slow Some days I say I give zero fucks and something about a rat's ass but we both know that is my heart begging for an end to disappointment If I knew how to care less I would
This is the second in the “Fucks” challenge with a trio of poet friends
Polyglot
Today I spoke three languages and unwittingly more by how I held myself and walked, laughed, waived as small children craned their necks at the sight and sound of me I assure you I said nothing important or memorable in air, page, or screen and yet I will still call it good
Moonshine
Already drunk you introduce yourself to me a second time I am past loving wounded men wounding men But am mesmerized as you rhapsodize I imagine your apple pie moonshine and the bite of that West Virginia night
This Verse 