All coordination/ Matching to the heart’s content/ Let the mind wander
Tag: poem
~Sappy Daze~ Day 24
It Smells of Tears It’s like setting the world on fire. A fire so strong it sets winter ablaze. It’s like melting ice cream. A sweet treat on a miserably hot day that’s supposed to make you feel better. Tears are like adding fuel to a car. They get you going and going and then you’re going off. But before you can wreak the havoc you want you burn out. You quiet down and you wonder where you were going. You sniffle and smell fire. You wipe your eyes wet from snow and see your body covered in ash. You wonder why you cried. You marvel at how you’re still alive. - Sappy
Capturing Campus: This ain’t his house
This ain’t his house
a man lives in my attic
I don’t know if he knows that I know that he lives in my attic
but he sure as hell knows that I know that this ain’t his house
his feet don’t hit the floorboards right
the house squeaks to let him know
he fuzzied the bristles on my toothbrush
and the cabinet doors are wide open
he lets them breathe
speakin’ something sad
Every night is a rhythm:
stomp the steps
lift the door
plump the pink
pillow in my attic—not his but mine
because this ain’t his house
though he snores like he owns it
I’ll talk to him tomorrow
black girl diaries (2): line leader
i remember when i was nothing but Hope
i remember when i thought that my Hope was enough
to save the world.
when i felt that everything was to be done right.
when i had the answer to absolutely everything
and nothing could change it.
in elementary school i was always
running to be the line leader,
to tell my peers to buckle up
and wait their turns
and stand up straight
and quiet down
and then it’d all be fixed.
and i remember wanting to be president.
to solve world hunger and bring world peace,
to bring a better life.
the eyes of a child and the eyes of an idealist
are one in the same, and
both are so very needed.
my eyes grow dimmer,
my prescription weaker,
and i have cataracts on my soul, my spirit,
and i can barely see the light anymore.
the Hope, it persists nonetheless
like a echo.
it has lasted far longer than i ever thought it would.
i can even hear it now.
but it is dying, slowly and steadily, no matter how many times i resucitate it.
i now see those who i love and care for
who i worry and fear for
being told by others who will never care to know my loved ones
to buckle up
and wait their turns
and stand up straight
and quiet down
to listen up
and quickly move
and shut their mouths
and stay alert
and don’t speak up
and don’t resist
and don’t you dare.
and to refuse would be risking everything.
i fear for those risking everything.
i fear for them, and for those who will be told they’re risking everything
no matter what they do.
when do you cry for help?
when it is too late? when you’re there just in time?
where is our line leader. does such a person, such an entity, even exist.
will it ever.
~Sappy Daze~ Day 23
often those overcome with a sadness so profound embody it and write a myth to get lost in perhaps you’ve always been a myth for people to latch on to that makes sense and sounds like it belongs until there’s a piece of the puzzle that no longer fits that until disproven a myth is a commonly held belief that’s mistaken for the truth it’s a truth that some are often overcome with a sadness so profound they embody it it’s a myth that they can only embody a profound sadness - sappy
Capturing Campus: Birthday Card
Birthday Card
It was your birthday like every year
colored pencils to paper
(what knives are to skin)
you told me green was your favorite color
—you didn’t have one
I know that now
but I didn’t know that then—
so I tore up the backyard
ripped leaves from maple trees
scooped moss in mighty handfuls
fistfuls, pocketfuls
to give to you
you lied because colors don’t shine
for old shuttered eyes
closer to glaucoma than clarity
bleeding monochrome
the dull and dim
the world without harpsichord tones
on rolling hills born into richness
of flavor
of color worth witnessing
on the page and in your palms
you are running out of birthdays
