Author: poetryfest

When the ground cracks beneath us, when
Ruthless tides tear us limb from limb,
Would you scour the great unknown in
Search of a familiar face? Would you
Find my open arms and take
Shelter in them once more?

In this barren eternity, with no one
Left to hurt and nothing
Left to break, would you
Scrub me clean of any
Trace of sin? Would you bathe me
In forgiveness and kiss my lying lips?

Once I am free and you are pure
In death, would you love me again?

She spewed love like a geyser,
But she licked the baby’s food
So I pushed her away.
She pawed at her ball, eager
Puppy dog eyes in old age,
But my exhaustion won.
We’ll play tomorrow, I thought,
But her eyes never opened.
And now I’d give anything
To go back to that night.

One hundred or so starling
Carrying one hundred or so stars
Upon their thick black bodies-

Each its own dark and starry milky way-

Appear to be having some serious
Yet harmonious squabble
In the grapple of a tree

Like Congress claims to do, moreover

Like they ought to, though
Clearly here, being far more glorious
And worthy of praise

It is as if I am floating,
maybe in a small boat
meandering past banyan roots
and floating rocks,
or like a kite in the sky,
evading zapping bolts.
Sometimes there are huge bumps,
heart stopping drops,
long periods of ennui or
maybe sleep. Time is
real or not, mostly, I think, not.
I look ahead on the road
and try to peer beyond
the fog, the signs, bright
red neon say
Today, Tomorrow,
and Maybe just as
the fog closes in.
I walk, wondering how
I got here, and had there
been a boat, or a kite?

Elites have
vaccines, links to an Instagram,
bins for skulls,
food, water, and shelter.

I was arrested for the creation of a lasting paradigm
which was renamed flesh magic.
The body recognized
milk’s temperature.

How much they like
counting coup
on sun-sprawled
tech moguls.

There are echoes of her magnificent dirty tricks.
The woman shapes
guards for
the oil wells,

tosses grenades into a population of elk,
disturbing trees
glowing with
relentless civilizing.

Sounds bruise my ears.
They sting, and they’re much too loud.
Locker doors slam closed, conversations I’m never invited to reverberate on the old walls, and
dirty floors
The sounds never end
Until today.

The school is extra noisy, buzzing with anticipation of the upcoming summer break.
I just want to get out of here.
I push through groups of people
Talking
Talking
Talking
Maybe about me.

The summer sun burns my skin,
Glimmering in its rays
A shard of glass—maybe something that used to be a mirror sits quietly in the grass
Nothing beautiful lies within its reflection,
But the broken glass outshines the image

Perhaps the sun is a friend I didn’t know that I needed
He won’t always be here,
He can’t stay.

When nightime fold over me,
I suppose it will just be the patient stars and I.
The stars might whisper,
And I might whisper back.
Finally a sound I enjoy to hear.

When an addict dies,
You mourn two beings.

The person before the addiction
And the person you learned to love from
a safe distance.

And in the event of their passing,
Your heart breaks twice,
Your mind is confused on who to grieve the
most.

Do I grieve what could have been,
Or what had been?

There were three friends lived in a town,
Panda and White Bear and the other one is Brown Bear
Yet she was known as Mama Bear
They joined college to study together,
Hoping those days would last forever.

Brown Bear acts like a mummy,
And the Panda is full of clumsy.
The White Bear is a little bit crazy—
“I know they’re hard to handle, maybe.”
Mama Bear sighs, “But I’ll take it easy.”

Brown Bear is never late,
She finishes all her work straight—
So, she could have fun and still get an A grade.

Contrary, the Panda—
Though she comes first in every grades—
Never forgets to get into fights with the staircase.
Her body full of bruises and pain,
Later she reasons with stories and tales again.
Mama Bear wonders,
“How did she end up in such a state?”

Here comes Lazy Bear,
Always there to mess with their brain, dear!
When Mama and Panda try to teach her,
They lose their minds in fear—
Forget everything they learned once clear.

Their days never end without little games,
Whispers, laughter, and sweet nicknames.
As for washroom trips and canteen stays,
Panda says,
“Don’t worry—
We’ve got lots of breaks to carry, anyways!”

Everyone asks with judging marks,
“How hard is it to write and pass?”

Mama Bear roars,
“Oh, come on! You’ve no idea how many days
We stood in lines for extra points to pass our ways!”

Always had time for momos,
With hot and spicy combos
Before heading back to their cozy domes.

Three years passed,
Graduated at last.
Now each bear is in a different place,
Working on dreams at their own pace.

How many hardships did arise—
In a life of twists, lows and highs?
But never apart in heart, no matter the case,
Even at full distance, they share the same space

I would bow on a plane of shattered glass
Just to run my brass hands through your blonde hair
And lay with you On the grass
one more time
But You dyed your hair brown
And I let my hands rust

I would gauge my own eyes out with a spoon
Just to swoon and listen to you talk about your games
Or to be how we were last June
One more time
But you don’t talk
And I can’t listen

I would bleed out in an old parking lot
Just to joke about how stupid pot smokers and druggies were
And Call all night and pray we didn’t get caught
One more time
But you go to bed early
And I’m trying to get sober

I would cut off a limb
If I could swim in your blue eyes
Or do dumb shit on a whim
One more time
But the reality is
You aren’t him, you are you
And I’m not her, I am me

But I still want him
And you don’t want her or me

I like your fashion.
Seeing you making efforts
to always match it is my passion.
I like my partner stylish,
just like I am.
Your glittery dress flows smoothly
just like my feelings for you, beautiful lady.