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Literature Text
Just once every
again I would like to
do something
brilliant
I would like to
stand on my head and walk sideways across
forever
until you gasp and we are
transformed
fixed in the heavens with the bears.
This is what we call getting to the root
or going
for the jugular
or leaving no stone
unturned especially not
the ones we are standing on.
You weren't in when I stopped by
you were underwater
but I left a note to say
I stopped by
I love you, and I am
here.
again I would like to
do something
brilliant
I would like to
stand on my head and walk sideways across
forever
until you gasp and we are
transformed
fixed in the heavens with the bears.
This is what we call getting to the root
or going
for the jugular
or leaving no stone
unturned especially not
the ones we are standing on.
You weren't in when I stopped by
you were underwater
but I left a note to say
I stopped by
I love you, and I am
here.
Literature
Semi-Sweet Home
i.
Someday maybe they’ll find a way
to pin every piece of a moment
and share it in the clouds,
but they haven’t yet
so I have to write you the sticky weight
of a summer night drive on I-40,
alone with the music and the lightning bug
still glowing green on the windshield.
There’s the scent of sun-baked honeysuckle,
sweet in the cooling dark,
and the so-Southern smell of cowshit,
the earthy green
that makes nostrils instinctively contract,
but there’s nothing
quite like
the low tide mud funk
of my sun-dyed, muddy barefeet childhood
to bring home-tears to my eyes.
ii.
“You’ve got quite a reputation
around her
Literature
Home
Dear you
You probably don't know
I wrote about you yesterday
and the day before that.
But my favorite part was when you made me tea and it tasted like home.I drank all of it because that is what normal people do,but when I took your cup to the dishwasher
I saw you left a lil bit of tea in it, just like I normally would and i felt even more at home.
Today when you were siting next to me I was cutting out the word home from my paper and it seems like you have been a round a lot when the word 'home' is used but I guess that's one of the building blocks to start building a home, is someone who's going to be around.
I woke up this morning with a
Literature
solitude
i am
trying to pull myself away
from this feeling
that consumes me inside
your absence is in
every object that surrounds me,
entangling loneliness
in the air
its all i can feel.
the time rolls onwards,
and onwards,
dragging me along
as i wait, as i wonder.
(i just want you to
come back.)
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Written a couple of days ago. I was going to sit on it a while longer, but then 
posted this fabulous piece. And I think they're related. I might try that storage thing, if I change my mind again.
posted this fabulous piece. And I think they're related. I might try that storage thing, if I change my mind again. © 2005 - 2024 completeaccident
Comments31
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I swear, you pack more into your lines on so many levels that I can't hope to fathom it all! 
I'd never read the aforementioned Billy Collins poem, but I do love his work in Nine Horses. If I hadn't loaned it to a friend (it being my copy of the book), I'd type out one of my favoritest favorites for you to read, as I can't find many online, but I did find another favorite-- Aimless Love. I'm not at all surprised to see Collins brought up here, though, because a lot of your work does remind me of his style. Subject matter aside.
Anyway, the whole point of me commenting--one thing that really grabbed me about this poem was that the first stanza reminded me of the fourth stanza from Pablo Neruda's "Walking Around." I found a decent English translation here, though if any Spanish-speakers happen to be reading this, go look up the original Spanish. Except Neruda's version of "something brilliant" is sort of a macabre joy, so maybe it's the inverse of what your stanza's saying.
I'd never read the aforementioned Billy Collins poem, but I do love his work in Nine Horses. If I hadn't loaned it to a friend (it being my copy of the book), I'd type out one of my favoritest favorites for you to read, as I can't find many online, but I did find another favorite-- Aimless Love. I'm not at all surprised to see Collins brought up here, though, because a lot of your work does remind me of his style. Subject matter aside.
Anyway, the whole point of me commenting--one thing that really grabbed me about this poem was that the first stanza reminded me of the fourth stanza from Pablo Neruda's "Walking Around." I found a decent English translation here, though if any Spanish-speakers happen to be reading this, go look up the original Spanish. Except Neruda's version of "something brilliant" is sort of a macabre joy, so maybe it's the inverse of what your stanza's saying.