Teo

They/Them | A poetry-based comprehensive report on my state of self beginning in 09.2016 | In chronological order: 1-2-3 (the things i cannot keep), 4-5-6 (he begins again), 7-8-9 (bowl of chaos)

[bright-one-poetry]

9:10 - O, Joyous!

O, that you might trust me with you!

O, that I might know even a part of you!

Holy shit, that you might tolerate me!

Hot damn, that you might even enjoy my presence!

Fuck, that you might feel something like I do!

Ah, this fervent, wonderful feeling in my chest!

What is it, you ask?

Why, it is love!

O, my sweet-tempered friend, it is love!

It fills me up right from the middle!

Like a starburst, a fireworks display of anti-gloom!

Yes, and that nothing might hold precedence over this?

The absolute fucking best!

Ah, if only I could put it into words, for nothing really gets at it, you know?

Just imagine your most happy memory, dearest one, and then hold it close to you!

And then, keep doing that!

Until it doubles in on itself, growing more concentrated by the second!

Then, when it’s about to spill over, make it explode!

Like an epiphany, let it shoot through your heart and bring a smile to your face!

That is what I feel, whenever I think of you!

Did it work? Did you smile?

If you’re happy, then I’ve won.

(Silly. We both have won.)

[bright-one-poetry]

9:9 - Eat the Rich

It lopes on all fours

Hard lines carved into stone

Eyes dark-bright and searching.

It comes in broad daylight

Unashame’d and roaring

Teeth flashing in grin.

It clambers atop houses

Claws digging into roofs

Tongue slipping out and curling.

It calls to the wakeful

Voice low and graveling

Croon bitter like gin:

“I feel your rage

“I hold you in my claws

“I own you

“Mothers and daughters and fathers and sons

“Wives and lovers and husbands and sweet-ones

“Orphans and poorfolk and children and almless

“Come and see what your worship has wrought.”

The rich look upon it in fear

And call it Wrath.

Populous follows and brushes its sides

Bristles and sneers and pushes against it

Rides low and sharpens their own claws.

It looks upon the rich

And calls them Pride-Sloth-Gluttony-Lust-Greed-Envy.

We clutch and caress

We growl in tandem

We pick up our rocks and knives.

It leads the charge

Roaming the streets

Back-arched and lines straightening.

We sift through ashes

We claim and howl

We consume their stores and we rise.

We wreck gold-and-glass

It backlights our outrage

We stand together unwavering.

We will no longer go hungry.

[bright-one-poetry]

9:8 - Sibyl

I sit myself upon this post,

And call you trav’lers fair

All I know of jewels and gold -

You’ll find none of that there.

For if I set you on my quest

And what you seek is power?

Know only this, my fated few -

I’m not bound to this tower.

No magic holds my wrists here

Or binds me to this place

And you have come before my keep

And you’ve shown me your face.

So keep your wits about you

And leave your green eyes here.

Remember, dear ones,

Beasts are not the only things to fear.

For kings hold throne and glory,

And knights wield honor well

But between a witch and inn-keep

I’m sure it’s hard to tell.

So you’ll find me what I need -

It’s not that hard a task -

You’ll be careful and you’ll follow

Exactly as I ask.

For should you double cross me,

Not that, of course, you will,

But of all the woods in all the land,

You’ll learn why mine stays still.

[bright-one-poetry]

9:7 - Slip

The rain-chilled air hits an uncut throat,

The moon high is messy through the fog.

It is easy to slip under

Fallen bicycles and lost hours.

You cannot outpace me,

For I’ve run-at-sixes and blacked-out-at-sevens...

I pass the man-on-the-corner

And I look him in the eye

And it is not me who sees him.

Because the black-water sky is calling

And danger is a charge for someone else.

It’s for him and her and them and never me, because something’s broken now, because, because, because,

He stands above me and rages like Homer’s sea

When Nyx razes her hand against the dying light

And fights to take me with her

I cannot follow for my legs are made of stone

And I have missed

My very last

Chance

[bright-one-poetry]

9:6 - Eater

It’s violent.

What is?

This thing that eats at me.

I don’t want it, but

It’s not asking.

[bright-one-poetry]

9:5 - First-of-Four

What is a child, if not a monster?

I think back on myself and pity my mother,

That she was stuck with me,

For my cruelties far outweighed my kindnesses.

At least my father - and I do not begrudge him this - held weekly reprieve.

And I do not pity myself, that I was stuck with her;

For a bitter childhood has turned out a bitter child,

And I think I deserved quite a bit of what I got.

Maybe not everything I got,

But it is what it is.

And what is a mother, if not a monster?

I was forced against my will

Into a life I did not want then or now,

And it is her and his fault for it.

I think her kindnesses far outweighed her cruelties,

But even as I say that my mind flashes

To all of her terrible things,

And my justification falls flat.

I pity her, that she had me,

And I pity her again, that she had my father as well.

I will not have children.

Not when I’ve looked at what is left of us.

[bright-one-poetry]

9:4 - Maskra and the Sun-Thing

“The sun-thing pays homage to me,”

Said the youngest god.

“Not because he has to,

But because he wants to.”

And, as with most things,

I am too late to find that she was not bragging,

But crying.

[bright-one-poetry]

9:3 - Dive

The sky looked upon me without mercy and said:

“I am cold, but when you are with me you will feel alive.”

I thanked her.

The ocean looked up at me without mercy and said:

“I am cold, and when you are with me you court death.”

I thanked her.

I will tell you a secret.

Sometimes, when the sky is not looking,

I choose the sea.

-

Inspired by this video:

[bright-one-poetry]

9:2 - Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2

And for one night, said the sky,

For one night, all shall be calm.

The children shall sleep sound,

The oceans will steady themselves,

The ground shall not quake.

And for one night, said the sky,

For one night, all shall be at rest.

The music shall cry soft,

The hands will not tire,

The air shall carry clear.

For one night, said the sky.

For one night. For this night.

-

Inspired by this video:

[bright-one-poetry]

9:1 - Sky Thing

The thing in the sky says soft,

What have you, small thing?

Small thing replies gentle,

Rugs and riddles, blankets and baubles.

The thing in the sky says soft,

How much for a heart?

Small thing replies softer,

More than I am willing to walk with.

[bright-one-poetry]

8:14 - Opalescent

The skies are red.

The ground is blue.

The water is dark with the flesh of man.

A body that does not age

Will not fall to rot of death,

And so the sleeping are in truth gone now.

“There is nothing for us here,” the guide calls. “Let us leave this wretched place.”

I look to the sky, dark and quiet, and I have to disagree. There is something, but she worded it wrong.

It is not “for us here,” it is here for us.

[bright-one-poetry]

8:13 - Its Kind

I have gone out, a reviled thing,

dancing through night, eyes accustomed to the dark;

crying quiet, I have done my time

locked away, layer over layer over ground:

monstrous thing, thin and unholy.

A child like that is not a child, quite.

I have been its kind.

I have found sanctuary in the stars,

gorged myself on sun, sky, cloud,

dreams, fantasies, hopes;

led the young ones to curiosity:

dangerous, soothing the hurts.

A child like that is marked.

I have been its kind.

I have read your heart, old one,

answered your children's questions,

left my light on, patient

where your words eat at me

and your fury kills my kin.

A child like that will not call unanswered.

I have been its kind.

-

Based on the poem Her Kind by Anne Sexton, written for an assignment.

[bright-one-poetry]

8:12 - Skyward

I take my knife of crystal and dewdrops

And I

Look up at the night sky

And I

Want so badly

To run the tip of my blade down her stomach

And wash my hands in the stars that fall out of her

And I

Wish that I could straddle the sky and

Take my hands and press them into her heart

And bring it to my lips

And I

Return to my senses

And I

Put down my crystal and dewdrop knife

And I

Remind myself that

There are always other chances

To get what I want

[bright-one-poetry]

8:11 - Eyeteeth

I’ll cut out your eyeteeth-

Send nothing into my hands

For the music has stopped

And the dancers have left.

The dead no longer thank me

When their last glimpse was of you

So cease this game now

And maybe I’ll let you keep your jaw.

[bright-one-poetry]

8:10 - Johann

I will sing for you the sun into existence

I will scream for you the memory of your name

I will bring you to the sky until all ends

And I will shake the world until it remembers your song

[bright-one-poetry]

8:9 - Hannibal

I have fed you my heart

And with every bite

I have drilled down deeper

I am the stone in your stomach

I hollow your bones

I fill you up and you

S

p

i

l

l

all over the tile.

Clean up your bloody mess.

[bright-one-poetry]

8:7 - Funeral Sigh

This is not guilt.

I am just fatigued.

He killed himself

Before I ever touched him.