sexdeathandmoneysonny asked: i just found your blog but i absolutely adore it! i just started getting really into poetry and recently started writing my own. i was wondering if i submitted a shorter poem if you would give me your opinion and maybe some advice?
steal this poem
this poem is yours tear out words, rip out whole lines, the whole heart of it and paste them into your blank spaces pad them with flowers, white lilies that you snipped the stems from and placed overnight in colored water, found in the morning to have taken on the dye in its white petals and sign your name on the little card next to them admire the words, rearrange them, hold onto them until...
pavorst-deactivated20120105 asked: Tracy you are absolutely beautiful. That's just a little random but I had to tell you that so I did and here we are at this abrupt end.
one more drink one more pack of marlboros one more kiss one more sick day one more cup of coffee one more hit one more bite one more minute one more night alone with you one more regret & one more scar on my liver on my lungs on my tongue on my heart one more meaningless pile of poetry like a funeral pyre made from one more lie
i don’t care what you’ve been told but i’m not real i’m made of bones
questions about birds
i wonder quite often if i share the same problems with the birds, stumbling through life making pictures from the clouds, always waiting for them to toast brown in the sun, crumble and rain ash on the trees or are my problems are solely human - do they even fall in love, birds? love birds, do they fall in love? or are they too just waiting for the clouds to toast in the sun, rain down on the...
gr33nmonstah asked: I think that last poem that you posted has been one of your best yet. It has a very melodic rhythm to it.
every line starts with the spark of a lighter light of a smoke i mix my nicotine with words, mix my words up with memories and i mixed my memories up with reality like the memory of love being here in this room with me and the reality of how empty it’s been all along never believed in spirits until you came along now your ghost is hanging in the air here i’d smoke you out if...
it’s just like my letters to go unread and it’s just like you to go on your own way, lost in your own head where did you go? this isn’t like magic at all / this isn’t at all like magic
there was a game we used to play when we were younger ripping buttercups from the front lawn and lightly trailing them across our forearms to see if they tickled, if they left little raised goosebumps there and i can’t remember what it meant but today, the grass still wet from the moon showers last night, i tore up a patch and shook the red ants from the roots droplets of water pooled on...
mylittlerainstorm asked: Do you have advice for people who write already but want to try poetry? Anything maybe you wished you had known whilst starting to write poetry yourself?
a history of wine
the first wine was honey wine sticky and sweet on the tongues of young lovers given in bottles wrapped up in big bows to newlyweds ‘take this now, drink until your throats are numb, your eyes blur, and make love in the fields under the harvest honey moon, bring forth a baby boy, give him your name’ and the wine would be swallowed, and love would be tender, soft, in fields painted...
10:36pm. so tired, dehydrated, fingers shaking with a severe lack of nicotine, of him this house is too quiet. the crickets died off with the first frost, and my stereo wires sparked up, looked like little flare gun shots before they smoldered out, black my joints ache, i need a cigarette and i remember the stash he rolled for me months ago, stale by now, wrapped in pink tissue i may find...
dull-glow planet promise
keep this one promise, darling that if you ever come back to earth after bouncing from pretty star to pretty star, that if you return, you’ll return to me because they all shine so bright and look like glitter-angels from way down here but you’ll be burned up with one touch the subtle dullness of my soft glow will never let you down i’ll keep that promise, if you’ll...
allwekn0wisfallingx asked: thank you so much for your beautiful poetry. i feel like you're writing about my life, in words I couldn't even dream of writing. really beautiful.
crumpled tissue roses and lily perfume clouds, bits of mascara clinging to my lashes are the things that took the place of you cliche poetic drum-beat-dreams and now this bed only sinks under the weight of my slow-beating heartache
last cigarette ever
sunday night, sitting here rolling my last-cigarette-ever between my ink-soaked fingertips, thinking over all of the things i never told you the poetry slam, the night out in providence, the suicide pact i never even wrote them down, not in vague pieces, not in padlocked diaries, never spoke the words aloud sunday night, sitting here flicking the ash of my last-cigarette-ever onto the spot...
saturday night, not nearly as tired as i should be acorns are falling all around me like bombs i miss you more now than i did while you were gone i had a good hair day. i guess that’s all i can say.
you are ash tonight, still hot as i write this i took a cigarette to your photo, watched your smile, all white-bone teeth, scorch up, melt away i smiled, took another drag, as your coffee skin grew darker the flames licked your cheekbones and the decay grabbed at your eyes, begging and brown and looking wider as the whites of them were swallowed up in smoke i could smell the scent of your...
tonight i feel so in love with the rain i feel myself shaking, aching as it drips like streetlamp tears down panes of glass, collecting in mirror puddles that catch the moon i watch it like i’d watch a dancer on the stage, intent on seeing the deep shades of meaningful movement as i push the lust down into my belly, burning my eyes fog as i try to follow one drop, try to find a hue of...
your words feel like autumn, the way they sting at my cheeks and my nose and strike my heart so hard my tear ducts thaw,but still, they light me with life and a rosy color just because they’re falling from your tongue and your body is like autumn, too the way i’m wrapped up in you, warm and cradled with care until you shift your weight to one side or the other and i feel the chill in...
for rachel (camera-lust) i know a girl who the clouds follow like they’re madly, crazily in love they’re drawn to her colors, the red of her lips, kettle diamond-copper drenched hair like she’d been bathing in berries drawn to her pale skin with skinny-thin blue-blood veins soaked in tattooed ink so vivid you’d think she’d dove down to the bottom of the sea to...
dylanotoolewriting asked: your poems are FANTASTIC.
raspberries, bleach, cigarettes
on an anonymous weekday morning when i can’t tell my breath from the fog i pick dead cigarettes from my windowsill, the grey of the ash and the smudge of red lip stain mixing to look like dirtied blood on the wood i’m boiling raspberries in sugar-water for my tea, rubbing last nights mascara under my eyes until i look like a warrior, fatigued and pale and plagued by something...
i out-loved you by miles and miles even when my skin had gone cold, turning to blue and black bruises, purple pulse points with pressurized veins i loved even when the doctors tore my chest in two, ripped my lungs and my heart and my throat right out, stuffed me full of cotton and stitched me up i loved and loved and you look like a photograph through double-vision eyes when i look back ...
i feel lucky here, sitting across from you lucky the wind has an autumn chill in its arms so that when you see me shake, tremble from my fingertips nearly spilling hot coffee into my lap, you assume it’s the air and i feel luckier still, sitting here next to you while my knees bounce and my voice comes in gasps of loved breaths that when you reach up your mocha hand, with the scars i...
pavorst-deactivated20120105 asked: Thank you. For being beautiful. For being opposed to capital letters.
it was on a thursday, with my broken ribcage, shattered bone bits flooding my bloodstream that i noticed her ocean eyes reflecting a straight line of blackbirds as she stood over my bed with breath soft as linen, skin thin as silk and i lay cold and still, crooked and fragile like a paper crane folded from paper so pale-pink you mistake it for grey. she ties ribbons of flowers into my hair...
i’m begging you to dry me out like a rose hang me upside down above the old boarded off door, wood and paint peeling press a tack into my skin to keep me still when the breeze shakes through the house check on me now and then, after breakfast, before you sleep, see how i’m shriveling, cracking, pale in some spots, dark as a whispering shadow in others if my petals start to loosen,...
i feel myself becoming these winding stairs, creaking at every crack in every wooden slat out of breath from the climb, my cheeks pinched pink with a lack of oxygen my eyes sinking into dark shadows in the altitude i reach my tree-limb arms outward as twilight crawls over my skin like a thousand plum spiders and as i reach the landing the air is sugary sweet and the stars are so close they...
beside the bed and down on the wooden floor our skin cells collect, falling like dust from the friction catching like splinters on the sheets and being ripped bloody from our beings they pile like feathers until you blink or i exhale the cigarette smoke, pink from my lungs and my lips and the soft breeze of us picks them up like the strongest wind and our cells, translucent and tiny and...
the-vee-word asked: Beautiful. Not just writing, but mind, body, and soul.
the doctors said that my fragile bones will never support the weight of a child, the heaviness of a heart with fingers and toes and the beginnings of a bulbous little nose would be too much i remember crying at the news, sitting for days with the twisted silence of it a twisted and screaming silence, rubbing my thumbs in half circles over the hollow flatness of skin and wishing i could tell...
killingcharlemagne asked: I am in awe of the brilliant and prolific nature of your writing. No clue why I haven't found you earlier and must admit I adore what you post on both blogs. Look forward to reading more.
i’m watching her through the kitchen window sunshine skin and moon-bleached hair she’s crushing bruised berries with her fingers her tiny prints soaking with purple, seeds putting their roots under her nails and i watch, as she smooths the bleeding berry skins through her locks leaving trails of twilight colors in sticky strands she smiles, satisfied and melts into the dew drops...
‘you’re my escape route’ that’s what you told me sunday morning, doing the newsprint crossword puzzle pressing inked fingerprints into my morning skin. i shift, leave coffee mug rings on the glass table top, smudge your prints deeper, into my pores. ‘you let me run, walk, drive for miles, but i don’t know where i’m going. what’s a four...
Poems for sale!
medication: Hi everyone! As some of you may know, I am going to be having more surgery in November. Unfortunately, this means I will be out of work unpaid for close to 2 months. In order to try and save as much money as possible before then so I will be able to continue paying my bills on time, I am opening up a little Poem Shop! I am selling personalized poems for $0.75 (USD). When you...
i want you to be okay stronger than the paper beads you wear from silver hooks on your sandy skin
chocolate pomegranate kissing without our lips just flavors on our fingertips so sweet
i hear your low voice in instrumental versions of all of your favorite songs - begging
freeze all of your fresh fruit and never purchase anything in a can paint your collarbones gold swing your floral hips when you dance with him don’t be so afraid of the sun or the rain or the threat of a goodnight kiss let some light in we’ve noticed it’s always midnight inside your bedroom and don’t pick your bugbites after the campfire with the...
chemical sugar in chemical tea & chemical coffee burns holes through my tongue so now your name slips through my lips and rushes straight down my throat leaving chemical scars but at least i won’t taste you anymore
you’ve started a fire so pour me another i’ll stay up all night to watch us burn out again
i’m on a train short changed and derranged heading west and thinking how i was your wishbone back east that you snapped at the hip; hope you made it a good one
in my arms i held a tiny swaddled kitten a pure (purr) and warm love
While We Dream
smoky hangs the half moon on a string of starlight sweetly soaring with the sparrows all night
now my heart begins to hemorrhage blood onto the white tile you always said i was the one who always made the biggest mess i’m sorry love, i just need you to apply a little more pressure where it hurts the most
marching bands of bones passing out dried daffodils what a deathly sight!
we'll never know
if we never met life would be sweet as star-shine or maybe much worse