The ghost overseas
I want to start doing more creative things with this space and whining about my life a bit less. Ha! Like that'll happen!
Anyways with that in mind, here's some poems I'm not going to turn in to my poetry class.
Last night
She was a dusty rose
Looking lonely like a skinny long-lost friend
Lost in an unseasonable raincoat, she was
Little red riding hood sipping coffee in the dark
Her glasses flashed when she noticed me noticing
A smile broadening her thin face
Unasked for, a miracle, a sign
Calling out an answering quick and nervous grin
The circuit joined, the electricity jolted my eyes away again
I hope she saw my second smile, slow and secret
I want her to know how beautiful she looked
The sweetness of her, the possibilities,
A lifetime of maybes in a glance across the room
And I don’t believe in love at first sight
But I will go back the same time tomorrow night
This was something I wrote a while ago, guess who clean forgot about going back to the coffee shop at the same time? I've been doing this rhyming last line thing a lot lately. As you can see:
Mute and A Capella
I am not a girl anymore
Something’s been transmuted, a chemical change
Anatomy and alchemy askew inside me
My voice was the first to go, mute
And a capella I am resigned to my dissolution
Last night I was cells afire today
I was blood and bone tonight
I am atoms held by weakening electricity and you
You can tell I can’t sing god’s praises anymore
Now I’m just a broken cello outside the cellar door.
This is kind of inspired by a weird bit of trivia from my poetry class, apparently the reason a lot of orthodox churches only have a capella music is that instruments aren't alive, and therefore they can't praise God. I'm not sure what this poem means. I wrote it when I was very tired and in a weird frame of mind.
You ran a message to me ‘cross the wires
Of our nerves entangled: “Don’t look! Just touch.”
Everything sped up, the rain fell faster
The electric feel of your hand brushing mine
Hit rewind and mute, I will relive it
In slow motion circles a thousand times-
That second before that power, surging,
Tripped our circuit breakers, and we parted
Shocked expressions falling from our faces-
We never loved, we were never lovers.
The above is an unrhymed sonnet, I was going to submit it to Poetry class but someone else wrote a better poem about electricity and love. Also I promised myself I wouldn't submit any love poems or crying poems. So out it goes!