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Character Poems #1
I said I would do character poems, so I did. They're kind of rough drafts, so I might still tweak them until I'm satisfied.
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Second Wind
Transparency is like an open sky
and about as deep as a puddle
or fast as the breeze.
Bit lips and pinched cheeks avail
don’t trip down that yellow brick road
just because you made a mess of it.
No habit—unhealthy or otherwise—is safe.
A cracking quality in the surface,
singing your praises;
I don’t want to kill
I just don’t want it to be alive anymore.
That dusty kite you once flew
used to sit in the dark until
you took it out
and let it loose on the world.
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a magician’s guide to murder
there’s no such thing as preservation
bare feet on the clifftop
waiting to let go
with eyes shining like insanity
I forgot to say I’m not a saint, I just wanted to wear white
whatever you do leave the ceiling on
it calms me when I unravel—
to feel the weight of limitations and I told you so’s
but I forgot how many agains it’s been
clutch the reef to your heart until it crumbles away
play your games and drain the ocean
until there’s no sorrow left to soak
and only a painful smile
that never wasn’t yours
________________________________________________________________________________________________
dying moon
from one sandcastle to another
it’s not how tall you make yourself
but how close you build to the ocean
and when the engine that fuels this stretch of the universe corrodes
sinking into itself with the dreamless language of a thorough death
you can find that line and hop skip over it
to take a dance with anarchy
he continues to tell old wives tales that warn
people like me about people
like me
stab that back with love
bleed porcelain all over your throne
watch your stone archway crumble to dust
until there’s nothing for you to pass through to pass on
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Flower Language
Sometimes
there are things you can’t say with words
and in the place of silence, flowers speak.
You can hold grief in your hand, pluck the petals of pride,
create a bouquet of welcoming, faithfulness, and elegance.
Anyone could guess the meaning of a rose or mistletoe
but no one ever mentions yarrow or wisteria.
A gentleman knight, with me as your squire
passing by ladies and their outstretched roses.
You would hide away your flowers
in favor of your valiant life
and I wondered if you
even needed them.
Once upon a time you held out a statice to me
in the form of a song on black and white keys.
Something that never changes, you said
and only later did I discover
what you really meant.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Second Wind
Transparency is like an open sky
and about as deep as a puddle
or fast as the breeze.
Bit lips and pinched cheeks avail
don’t trip down that yellow brick road
just because you made a mess of it.
No habit—unhealthy or otherwise—is safe.
A cracking quality in the surface,
singing your praises;
I don’t want to kill
I just don’t want it to be alive anymore.
That dusty kite you once flew
used to sit in the dark until
you took it out
and let it loose on the world.
________________________________________________________________________________________________
a magician’s guide to murder
there’s no such thing as preservation
bare feet on the clifftop
waiting to let go
with eyes shining like insanity
I forgot to say I’m not a saint, I just wanted to wear white
whatever you do leave the ceiling on
it calms me when I unravel—
to feel the weight of limitations and I told you so’s
but I forgot how many agains it’s been
clutch the reef to your heart until it crumbles away
play your games and drain the ocean
until there’s no sorrow left to soak
and only a painful smile
that never wasn’t yours
________________________________________________________________________________________________
dying moon
from one sandcastle to another
it’s not how tall you make yourself
but how close you build to the ocean
and when the engine that fuels this stretch of the universe corrodes
sinking into itself with the dreamless language of a thorough death
you can find that line and hop skip over it
to take a dance with anarchy
he continues to tell old wives tales that warn
people like me about people
like me
stab that back with love
bleed porcelain all over your throne
watch your stone archway crumble to dust
until there’s nothing for you to pass through to pass on
________________________________________________________________________________________________
Flower Language
Sometimes
there are things you can’t say with words
and in the place of silence, flowers speak.
You can hold grief in your hand, pluck the petals of pride,
create a bouquet of welcoming, faithfulness, and elegance.
Anyone could guess the meaning of a rose or mistletoe
but no one ever mentions yarrow or wisteria.
A gentleman knight, with me as your squire
passing by ladies and their outstretched roses.
You would hide away your flowers
in favor of your valiant life
and I wondered if you
even needed them.
Once upon a time you held out a statice to me
in the form of a song on black and white keys.
Something that never changes, you said
and only later did I discover
what you really meant.