when spark becomes flame

Poetry sideblog for momma-rose.

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introduction

all i can do is spill my heart onto the page and hope you like the mess

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melpomene

i’m lying in bed at 6am- scrolling on my phone because i’m thinking too much to sleep- and i see a girl who is just pretty and just pretty is enough and it’s simple, and obvious, and wonderful

and my chest becomes the cavity i collapse into, and i touch my lips, and my eyes, and i am intense, and magnetic, and striking and i’m sick of careful compliments, and i’m sick of how everyone just LOVES my hair, and my look, and i don’t care about beautiful with a modifier, i wish i was just pretty

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raw

i’m not made for me i don’t know how to help her i’ll not think about it tomorrow and the day after that, too

no cries, no scream i try to punch a hole in me that i can pour out of, but nothing comes so i go back to sleep

lay your fingers on my throat put your lips to mine and blow make music from the hollow and set me down when you’re done

i see her in a dark window catch a glimpse, and find myself slumped by the edge of the tub, slipping down the drain again

i’ll be what you want, i’ll be good i’ll be the good one i’ll be the best

plant me in a shallow pot and i’ll be small for you

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bitter echo

though she alone did know my truth and spoke so mournfully, her empty soul has this to fear: you cannot hide from me

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grave

no matter who may weep, or how, or why, still we lie beneath your feet in a world built from footsteps

our hearts fill with thunder and we must howl at the dark, but no cry comes, no whisper from below

i dream within my cold, black earth of an eye in this lonely darkness - of a pale and silent moon blooming through the night

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nevermore

IS

young live they feel strange

dusk falling love between beat kiss fly pound murmur unseen unknown broken pain face white shiver collapse scream

dawn whisper shudder light goes

leave lost death dead

WAS

why

spirit in us always

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say my name

“god, give me a daughter,” my mother would pray

for she had three sons (so she thought, anyway)

and now that i’m different, i just want to say

god gave you a daughter you turned her away

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3:54 AM

i want to write a poem, so i sit down in my queen sized bed (half filled with books and laundry and a pair of scissors, because i only fill one half). my toes are cold (because the AC is on, because our building controls the heat and i get hot when i’m excited, and i was reading a really good poem)

i want to write a poem, so i look around me and my room: at my wall of keys pinned down by slim nails that, if i slipped and fell onto them, would turn me into that guy from hellraiser; at the poster falling off my door that i got from a book i didn’t like, but it fills the white space; at my cold toes under the blanket

i want to write a poem, and i think of all the poems that i’ve read- the beautiful ones and the heartfelt ones, the simple observations and the stories- and i compare my poem to those, and maybe also to the ones i don’t like- but that isn’t fair to them, or to my poem, so i swim back up to the surface

i want to write a poem, so i sit down and write one.

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come sit with me

in cold november the wind shakes rain from her skirts, from her cool, grey ceilings and dark days pass quickly and we dig deep into closets

wide windows look out on concrete and dying ivy, which waves goodnight as it settles in turn in your covers, wrapped up with the rest in warm, woody darkness

alone for an hour, i sit cross-legged in the still heart of my tiny apartment, and turn on all the lights surrounded by white walls and the quiet of snow

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anemone

out of focus, i look smooth and polished like sea-glass - an idea of me, fuzzy, formless, your low-light beauty

my shadow in the mirror, an exquisite silhouette - leave the middle blank and i’m your new aphrodite

goddess of beauty only in the twilight of a candle - hot wax falls to the soil

with heavy-lidded not-quite-looking, i could be her

close your eyes halfway and kiss me

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xvi - the tower

i am a seed in my bed of earth my heavy soil blankets, my dark and dirty veils water me with your tears and i shall grow you a headstone i build you a monument in bone you who planted me here my sculptor filled with searing light and planted next to me

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the space between

Oh, child; Tooth scrapes knuckle and falls, red-spattered pearl Loose like a ring on a finger in a grave And vanished like one, becoming an obsession of the mouth Tonguing, and prying, and dipping into the gap Growing back this time

Come further now; Pounding forward, lean deep into the curve Like shells on the frigid sand, cold steel Warming in her palm, and he grows small behind her The track and her and him, and a sense of distance The shell curves her back around

Not enough, not yet; He hurls something at the wall Doesn’t matter what, it isn’t his, not ever Shards glide and glint like glass dancers, soaring More beautiful apart than they were before. Unlike her They sit where they fell. She leaves

Healing slowly, but healing; The woman at the bar smiles at her And becomes an obsession of the mouth Her skin warms under soft palms, and her eyes Glide and glint like glass dancers as the two offer themselves She barely even feels the space between

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Dear Alice

Dear Alice, here I wait for you The homestead that you left before, The warm hearthstone and open door; The path which gaily down you flew Awaits your swift return

Oh Alice, still I wait for you The flowers which you once had planted - Blossoms that I took for granted - Blessings in my garden grew Among the root and fern

My Alice, I shall wait for you And keep the house for when you find That here is where your peace of mind Is laid to rest, and swiftly, true Come back to where I yearn

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howling

i awoke in the dark with a shadow at the door and i groped in the night for a candle to light and it shone to you across the floor and i saw you standing there in the door

but still, half-crying, i called “who’s there?” for a thought occurred that i couldn’t bear that tore through my head in that half-empty bed -

i do not know you. i look and i see, but you are not who you used to be and so after all the years i call “who’s there?”

i am still calling.

who’s there?

who is there?

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Alabaster and Ebony

As I traveled in my youth, I found What one is wont to find: A different tale to each location bound That tarries in the mind And waits within to hatch, to the delight Of audience, eager to come to light.

My story starts at camp in distant wood. I heard the ringing - clear And pure - of bells. This sound in nature should In any who might hear Arouse the curiosity that led Me far from safety’s arms, far from my bed.

I came upon a clearing far from town And shouted out to see The stars above shine brightly, raining down. I hid behind a tree And there! Right where each dazzling Star should land, A shining creature veiled in light did stand.

These maidens of the sky spread round the grove And silently began To dance, and from my hiding place I strove To see the light that ran Between the Earth and Moon, for there below The Heavens, she of moonbeams came to glow.

Wilder still by far than reverent Stars- Whose elegance and grace In languid limb and veil outpaces ours- I saw the youthful face Of one who, sighing vague and airy tune, Could be none other than inconstant Moon.

I found myself, alas, drawn in by those Steps - the beating drum!- My heartbeat in my ears. Although I chose To stay, she whispered “come” With every whirl and leap. To her I flew, And found that somehow I could dance it, too.

After some time had passed - day, month, or year?- We two stood gasping, still, And past the lovely Moon, I saw a tear Fall sweetly past the veil Of a Star-maiden. Our eyes met, and she Hurriedly retreated, turned from me.

The Moon, a jealous lover, stole my breath And heart from past my lips, And, grinning, drew away from me, as Death With victim in her grips Flies home. The gathering began to fade, Yet tear-stained Star another moment strayed.

No words she spoke to me, nothing so sure. Instead, she stayed and stared- With pity in her eyes she stood, demure. The Star saddened and scared. I felt upon my lips a deathly chill, And finally that dark clearing grew still.

Alone again, my blood began to race. Now gone my peace of mind- A fear that in my heart I could not place. And somehow, still, I find That where the Moon did kiss me, even now, In moonlight clear I shine, though know not how.

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silence is golden

the loneliest whisper wind passes through the quiet wheat and millions dance again

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in time

doors bricked up with fear yes, the yolk is safe from the world but every egg must hatch