Mooooore poetry: bitterness and blood
I'm posting my poems in bits and pieces so as not to overwhelm everyone with the teen angst all at once!
World Blood
Flicking my tongue thoughtfully
Against the tiny shelf
Of my mouth
The tip touches a part that is
Swollen, uneven
A half healed cut, hidden
within the crevice of my gums
And I wonder why an
Open wound
Tastes like copper.
Is it because we are
Of the earth
And our blood is precious metal
Buried deep below the surface?
All you need to do is dig
Deep enough and find
A vein to rip open so it’s
raw
Exposed
The world bleeds
Copper silver gold money
Maybe we do bleed money.
Maybe we are
Cold
Unfeeling
Metal
And we only have to taste our own life
To see
The
Truth
Or maybe
Blood tastes like metal because
It is hot
Pulsing
Alive
It gives us strength
Like the solid core of our world
And only when we rip it open
Does the scalding pumping magma
Cool
Dry
Harden in the sun
While we stand
Desperate
for a taste
Then there's this one. When I read the rough draft to my Creative Writing teacher, she asked me if she should be afraid of me. I don't ACTUALLY want to blow up the entire earth...most of the time.
Bitter World
We are done, world.
I am done kissing your big blue ass
Hoping you’ll send me a paltry parcel
Someone to hold me in warm arms
You could have just let me be whole
Instead you made me want a better half
As a friend you’ve always been
Fair weather
Sweet sunlight and the breeze of laughter
Turns to
Dense fog in an empty field
I’ll show you what bad weather looks like.
I will choke you with carbon dioxide
Mow down all your trees
pick my teeth with the bones of your creatures
Punch angry holes in your sky
And keep my lights burning until you
Catch fire and implode
You will become a ball of roaring radiation
A second sun feeding on itself
And I will laugh as the fire eats my skin
Laugh until it melts my mouth
You deserved it, world.
Six billion people
And you couldn’t spare me
One.
Yeah, writing the part where I "pick my teeth with the bones of your creatures" really squicked me out, if you want proof I haven't gone off the deep end. I love animals too damn much to even contemplate that imagery, but I had to put that line in to keep the poem's rhythm going and get the anger to come through. If you want proof I HAVE gone off the deep end, I was perfectly fine writing the rest of it.
World Blood
Flicking my tongue thoughtfully
Against the tiny shelf
Of my mouth
The tip touches a part that is
Swollen, uneven
A half healed cut, hidden
within the crevice of my gums
And I wonder why an
Open wound
Tastes like copper.
Is it because we are
Of the earth
And our blood is precious metal
Buried deep below the surface?
All you need to do is dig
Deep enough and find
A vein to rip open so it’s
raw
Exposed
The world bleeds
Copper silver gold money
Maybe we do bleed money.
Maybe we are
Cold
Unfeeling
Metal
And we only have to taste our own life
To see
The
Truth
Or maybe
Blood tastes like metal because
It is hot
Pulsing
Alive
It gives us strength
Like the solid core of our world
And only when we rip it open
Does the scalding pumping magma
Cool
Dry
Harden in the sun
While we stand
Desperate
for a taste
Then there's this one. When I read the rough draft to my Creative Writing teacher, she asked me if she should be afraid of me. I don't ACTUALLY want to blow up the entire earth...most of the time.
Bitter World
We are done, world.
I am done kissing your big blue ass
Hoping you’ll send me a paltry parcel
Someone to hold me in warm arms
You could have just let me be whole
Instead you made me want a better half
As a friend you’ve always been
Fair weather
Sweet sunlight and the breeze of laughter
Turns to
Dense fog in an empty field
I’ll show you what bad weather looks like.
I will choke you with carbon dioxide
Mow down all your trees
pick my teeth with the bones of your creatures
Punch angry holes in your sky
And keep my lights burning until you
Catch fire and implode
You will become a ball of roaring radiation
A second sun feeding on itself
And I will laugh as the fire eats my skin
Laugh until it melts my mouth
You deserved it, world.
Six billion people
And you couldn’t spare me
One.
Yeah, writing the part where I "pick my teeth with the bones of your creatures" really squicked me out, if you want proof I haven't gone off the deep end. I love animals too damn much to even contemplate that imagery, but I had to put that line in to keep the poem's rhythm going and get the anger to come through. If you want proof I HAVE gone off the deep end, I was perfectly fine writing the rest of it.