Poetry

“Paper” poem

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We are like fresh printer paper
starting our lives through the foundation of a deeply rooted tree
We descend from it in cascading sheets
A soft, smooth surface
a blank canvas

Then, as we move
fluidly off our stagnating tray
We are susceptible to
deep creases and folds
the cuts of a careless world
Our corners curl and cowered beneath it
is our wide eyed naivety

Once worn, scribbled on, and torn
it is difficult to revive the purity
of our open, empty horizon
The you who is you
becomes muffled in the graffiti that is me
and we all become one
in the plastic dark

GIF credit: @kitchenghosts on Instagram

Poetry

Escapism Poem

Take me to a place

Where I can’t think

Everything entertains me

I feel the stars on my tongue

A constellation of one

Take me to my universe

 

I am a princess locked in a castle

Let me out, let me out

 

Telling myself concrete bricks

are charming

Is far from captivating

I can bleed away in ink

But lists of chores can only sustain me

For so long

 

I want the adrenaline rush

of battling my guarding dragon

I want a rosy hued escape

A time stamped

spiritual retreat

 

Take me down from the clouds

and level my dreams to Earth

Only my rules are in place

as chance immortalizes

my getaway

Poetry

“Greedy” Poem

Word Dump Inspiration: Death see light after breath flash don’t understand echo break suffer damnation explosion materialistic exoskeleton

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“Greedy”

A firecracker burning the pocket

under your tongue

Your skeleton dances

it aching bones breathing

the imminent beat

of their damnation

Your face is a freckled explosion

of red

You don’t understand

the temptation

The lines of your muscles

cradle a flickering light

A torch beats for your heart

Echos begged for the materialistic allure

So death posies it’s vixen body

like a siren

Her hips tightly grip

the narrow corridors of your arteries

Your blood runs cold

Your brain breaks into spongy chunks

A coin

cuts

a deep river

down

your skull

 

Poetry

“Where I am From” Poem

 

(Inspired by George Ella Lyon’s poem of the same title)

I am from marker stains
from Star Wars and Marvel
(entire worlds dancing on a screen
sirens that beckon my daydreams)
I am from the narrow ditch
which swells and dries
between two worlds
of proper and wild

I am from sugar cookies and libraries
from Maria and Becky
I am from overthinkers
and high achievers
from “relax” and “it’s okay”
I am from skepticism and logic
buy most importantly love

I am from immigrants and military
shelled macaroni and rice
From my mother’s endless wanders
and my grandma’s past island

I am from dolls
some with slanted or gentle faces
From warming stuffed animals with
eyes that chased me
to theme parks and beaches
and fled from
hurricanes and fires
Though their vision
is now warped with scratches
they hold the same determination
my family has
to live life to the fullest