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Poetry

Capgras Delusions and You (The Body) – Matt Grydzuk

Degauss the stars like cathode ray tubes using only your hands

The body first thinks explicitly in omens, or foretelling the end of things

Sleep less than intended; corporeality was tailor-made for you.


The body is just a suggestion, though, like the outline of existing

Akin to the stars lacking crystal clear imagery yet making shapes

Yet causing images in the night

And I sat and watched them unfold, shaking mildly, how beautiful.


How beautiful, the suggestion of form;

The existence of existence

Like wisps of stardust off the tips of your fingers and the rest of your outline

You are a degaussed constellation.


How beautiful the burning sensation; the smell

How beautiful destroying the innards

Like dying stars or a comet moving faster and then it’s gone

Creating outlines creating memories making

Sentences with your movements but no words.


How beautiful linguistics; complete sentences with two independent clauses

Intertwined to make the sun rise.

Watch it leave you like blood from the mouth, like stardust from the nose and eyes.

All other things beautiful like the suggestion of an outline; like actually falling asleep.


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Poetry

The Positivity in Glass Jars – Brooke Safferman

Four jars made of glass, lined up on my window sill

The mint green, 

the pale rose, 

the totally clear, 

the almost-purple.

The way the light shines through them makes me giggle

Sort of like the way your smile shines through my emotional walls of glass

Once so strong, now I’m so fragile

Your delicate touch could crush me with too much force(accidentally)

“Stay positive”, they say

So I draw on a smile with my lipstick tube but

Before I leave my room to enter the world

I pause to look at the positivity in glass jars.

 

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Poetry, Prosetry

Water – Iman Messado

Here’s a thing I read in a science book once,
The world is like 70% water.
There’s lakes and oceans and ponds and bathtubs and –
Water doesn’t scare me at all,
What’s there to fear in oxygen atoms and hydrogen bonds?
I’ve always wanted to learn how to swim though,
I’ve dreamt of being at home in water,
like the stage is to a dancer.
Did you know that I’m a cancer?

Here’s a thought I had in the shower once:
Crying is a waste of time.
I mean, sure, there’s catharsis in the tears struggling their way out of the confines of your tear ducts and stubborn pride.
Catharsis that can’t be found when bottling your tears up and hoping something good can work.
But I’m not the type to wade in pools of Fear and Pity,
It’s better to patch up the dams and feign laughter at something witty.

Here’s a secret that that’s not actually a secret:
I don’t know how to swim.
I’m sure I could if only convenience granted me the opportunity.
I’m not scared, not apprehensive, there aren’t any storm clouds of doubt and derision spoiling my confidence.


I’ve asked quite a few people how they swim, people who know all about hydrogen bonds and who probably shed a few tears once in a while.
People who swim without ever having their head touch the water and others who do this strange kicking thing and still others who make exaggerated gestures and knock other people out of the way.


I’m standing on the edge of the concrete border of the community pool when i affirm a sneaking suspicion I’ve had for a while now.
There is no uniform way to swim nor is there a predestined form i’m to take so as to swim in the most efficient way possible.


All I can do is leap and splash and wait until the sun turns my skin even more brown.
So that’s what i do: i leap and splash and wonder if a day will come when i’ll drown.


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Poetry

Something Like Poetry – Brooke Safferman

 

Something like poetry,

Like magic,

You are the music that swells in the emptiness of my ears,

The spaces of my ribcage, and that of my fingers

 

You are the person who taught me that all I ever knew was incomplete

There is so much more to life than just drowning

I could be surviving, or more than that, even,

I could be living! I could be breathing!

Existing is far more than just going through the motions

Undulation, Premeditation

Acting on impulse, you said, can be a healthy thing

 

So I put down my books and searched for my smiles

Reached deep down within to find something I would have sworn

Was never there to begin with

But you proved me wrong –

Somewhere hidden under the treasure chest of the past

The heartaches more foreign than I’d care to admit made me feel more Guilty than Self-Reliant and the memories,

too painful to remember, yet too intoxicating to forget

I had a another treasure chest

One full of joy, one that the shadows of history could never wrap up as the fog rolls in

 

 

Previous loves, hopefulness turned sour, like a slice of lemon curdling the last few drops of sweet milk

I close my eyes and imagine your fingertips dancing upon the lace of my undergarments

I inhale with equal parts vulnerability and ultimate control and its like you’re right here all over again

Whispering the things in my ear that could bring any cold soul back to life

From a state of permafrost to that of permanent bliss

And as I wrap the scrunchie around my wrist

I think of all the ways I could tell you that I love you

But none of the words could do it right, other than “ineffable” 

So the best way I could describe the way I feel about you

Is that to me you mean

Something like poetry.

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Poetry

One On My Mind – Brooke Safferman

 

Dancing into the twilight,

Stars ablaze, much like your wide-open heart

Twirling into oblivion, you are the only

One on my mind

 

Gold and red and silver and bronze

Fistfuls of thick hair that I’m always so honored to

Touch

In the morning light, By the fireside, with the hot chocolate and the blueberry pancakes

We’re all slightly overcooked but without a flaw, all the same, you are the only

One on my mind

 

Curled up in Paradise on a couch,

books are the only sand and sun we need

we pay no matter to the clocks on the wall

the only ticking is the sound of our heart beating

one heart, we are two of the same and you are the only

One on my mind

 

And the bliss is never-ending.

You respect me on the days when I don’t even want to look at myself, and

You know about things I never would have dreamed of:

Palindromes and the perfect angel food cake; crossword puzzles and blanket forts

But even with all of this newfound knowledge, well, you are the only

One on my mind.

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Prose

the back of a book I will never write – Karlee Sanders

you know that feeling when you step outside for the first time on a snowy morning? that awe-striking moment when you can’t breathe because of the intensely fresh air flooding into your lungs? well, that’s what he was to me. he was my breath of fresh air. he was my new start. and honestly, nothing else mattered

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Poetry

A Child Again – Harika Kottakota 

A ruby-tinted shadow clamps my hand
And I’m wading in shards of glass and china
A child again, sanity tethered on Pinocchio strings

I can’t understand 

The curtain fraying into cobweb ribbon
The buttercups bowing to earth  
The russet swing mourning at dusk 

I can’t see color  

My silk finger scrawls on steam  
My failure-of-a-mother’s maiden name   
My stolen words dance along the casket’s borders  

I can fly far, far away 
To forgive, then grow   
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Poetry, Prosetry

Vagabond – Alexandra Mayer

His voice reminds me of Botticelli. 

You know… pastel angels, naked and soft.

The sun:

 A bleeding grapefruit–  

Its scarlet juices seeping into wisps of yellow, violet and blue.

I love him. I love her too. 

Home–there are just so many of you. 

The road rushes back. 

My memories are watercolors. 

These years drip into each other. 

Nothing but hazy hues. 

Stretches of Sand. 

My lips in the rearview mirror. 

Unphased, shedding layers like a python.  

Sometimes they strike without warning even me. 

 

Jeep paters to a stop.

Barefeet burning.

Black pavement. 

The stench of bonfires and summer.

He calls me over, 

with eyes like wildflowers,

and points to the flickering embers that litter the shore.

They’re pulled away by white knuckles

 dragging light back to sea. 

And Time slips out the back 

because we won’t pay enough attention to her. 

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Poetry

Search for Equilibrium – Haley Ingram

Keep calm.

Remain vigilant.
The throbbing in your lungs means nothing
To the gasping breath
Of your heart.
Each cracked burn on your
undead fingertips
Kiss the surface of heated glass
Inflaming your throat
Neck bent at exactly 45 degrees
You cringe and smile.
Your teeth eroded from the love I thought you carried in every undefined
Empty space in your body.
The acid creeping up the outside of your veins.
Vexation and tribulation scratching, crying, screaming, kicking.
Providing you with enough fluidity to drown,
But they are just holding hands.
Just as we used to when we were content with confinement.
When we were young. Foolish. We grew like the grass we whispered our dreams into and the dandelions I caressed against my cheeks to show you how gentle life can be.
And the kisses we’d exchanged like a currency of requited endearment meant nothing by the time I was meant to be maintained while you,
You just never grew.
You haven’t grown anything since the day I gave you the seed
I planted it in your heart,
See, its just for you please let my
Blooms nip at the disease you clog
Their stems with.
You hopeless tyrant.
You water them with the distaste of alcohol.
Keep calm.
Remain vigilant.
Our hands may have branched off
But my lungs never stopped beating for you
And every exhale my heart takes
Prepares me for an inhale of you captivation.
Petals may shatter like the shards of glass
You insist on gardening with
But you’ve never had the greenest thumbs
In fact you’re irately purple
Go outside
Take a moment
Breathe.
Lift your hands to the clouds reach for the time escaping us at every given second-
I can’t comprehend never being there on time
To hold you.
Pill popping may be just as sweet as the innocence you once had or the sanity I protected but that was stolen from us
And you’ve never felt more violated
From me grabbing your hips,
Or Tasting your body.
Because I don’t even have a tongue to say the words I’ve never thought.
Mouth sewn shut
Remain vexed
Calm keepings
You molested my smile and gave it a new name
You called it beauty.
You dismantled the arbitrary seclusion
Of my sanity
Your cold lifeless hands
Choking me
Oxygen is a privilege
To my skin
And you try to hold my hand
But I just can’t give this trepidation
A fair shot.
I kiss my own hands better than anyone
Who has ever held them
I’m rotting at your touch
The abyss of your fingerprints
You burn my flesh
You stunt my growth
I drown in ignorance
So blissful
I tend to my flowers with broken glass
Cut the stems
Force the alcohol into their system
The bitter taste on my lips are not the words I’ve never said
Rather than the words I regret to have ever spoken
Pills sprout a new flower they help me
I am slitting my airways and drowning my veins.
Keep calm.
Remain vigilant.
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Poetry, Prosetry

A Blade Only Cuts Halfway – Ivy Juniper Manchester

Follow her blog for more writing: http://taintedyours.wordpress.com

Whispers across a silent room, 
the onlookers glance around, 
claiming it to the wind, 
but I stay rooted, 
clinging to the voice of you, 
each word 
a dagger deeper 
than the last- the last? 
you said 
no 
while i pleaded yes 
and 
then 
you were 
gone 
and you never 
came back 
to say 
goodbye

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