Ars Poetica (Or as close as I get)
Emotions that trickle through my veins
out the pen
and stain the page
The world I dream to insurmountable beauty
or will to destruction
it’s mine to decide
Cool flowing water here to quench
the freezing inferno
tears could not extinguish
Little stick men frozen in time
victims of genocide
if they should offend
Trees rooted in my heart
reaching their slender branches
up to my dreams
Fall in Tacoma
Sharp eyes can hear the taste,
red mud splatters
Blue clouds kiss,
The sky is lonely.
Soft rocks bite,
Frogs find cool salvation
Leather shoes bruise Tacoma,
Each one makes a wavering cry,
Bushes hug the scene,
Leaves curve to the music.
Cut at the throat,
The grass will not say.
Hot slag ruins all,
Important dogs roam in surprise,
The feel is tough.
The orchards swing,
All are shorn and lost,
But the Tamarack.
llLrig Ssalg Gnikool
Day by day you sit and stare
At yourself in the mirror
Of public opinions
How large your waist should be
Fitting clothes you can’t afford
Filing away in social divisions
Selling you shorter
You can’t fill the order
Of flawless perfection to get you affection
Always hoping that you’re voted
For cheer team or prom queen
Looking glass girl
Pretty girl in the looking glass
Why do you buy their songs
Cause I know that you’d be all right
If you knew that they’re all wrong
So you sit and eat their slogans
Buying their products
You’re so devoted
Fashion models idolized
All selling lies
So candy coated
Trying to imitate imitations
Always the real you
Lost in the shuffle
Ancient games of expectations
Always the loser
Looking glass girl
Idle thoughts while sitting on the counter 11:02 pm Monday
Of greatest importance
Useful in dire need
Aren’t really phrases
Applied to me.
Peanut butter and Jelly
Would have no home.
And the toaster
Lonely everyday.
I hold a balance
But get no thanks
To be discarded,
With little thought.
I’m the bread clip
Mightiest of Creatures!
Well not really
I pretend.
Sometimes I’m lost,
Under the cutting board.
But, no one cares
They tie the bag.
Love Song to wallpaper paste
You cover a multitude of my indiscrepancy
sins committed while building up this house around me
A house with hard candy windows and gingerbread trimmings
and then you, tasting not so sweet, completing the scene
You, holding up canvas after canvas
of animals playing, or stars, or peered avocado
you knit the beautiful skins to the bare wall
Like sinew to bone
I spread you on the bone dry wall