My Overflowing Wastebasket of Words

Poems

[freeverse5]

there’s a heavy cloud hugging me—

paper skin and fragile dolls,

all up on the trophy shelf.

your head turns away as I appear,

words fall to deaf ears,

and still, you look into my eyes,

call my own feelings weak.

yes, I am pathetic and empathetic—

I love the world you hate.

if you give me that chance,

run into your arms, I will.

do you comprehend the forgiveness

I’m willing to show you?

so please, please just let me go.

free as a bird, I’ll flap my wings,

far, far away—cut off these strings.

I never wanted them to be severed,

but you’ve already sniped at them

with those red, bright scissors.

[freeverse5]

AroAce

Why is it that all of you speak this word—

Love, love, love?

An echo chamber, I think I’ve escaped it,

Or perhaps, in that prison, I have never been.

Luck or misfortune— aren’t they two sides of the same coin?

Is it a horizontal line I am crossing, sidestepping the jagged cracks,

That are the lines etched on the palm, stories of souls, mates, and love?

Is it a dance that everyone knows, and yet they say they do not?

But participate in it they do, all the same.

In the peripheral, I stand, pondering the trappings of sand and time—

Musings that go, and artistic renderings that have nothing to do with sex.

It’s a concept my mind cannot put a name to.

Complex and vast, beyond my grasp of understanding,

Or perhaps too simple; it is all for them.

And the only comparisons I can draw are of different brands of cereals

And fishes in a pond—

Metaphors and catchphrases that give meaning to this life

That I am living and will always be living.

They regret and weep for me, and I stand bewildered at their strangeness,

Yet I am the one they call just a little odd.

“You’ll get there eventually,” they tell me with their knowing, saccharine smiles,

And rueful nods, pat, pat, pat— little duckling, do not concern yourself with such worries

Soon you will catch up, with all the other birds in the sky,

Even though you were all born in the same year.

[freeverse5]

In that Fortnight

And when the grass sways, Whispers across the meadow, We'll retrace our steps, Hand in hand, a smile enough To shift the weight of this bad luck.

For in that fortnight, My life became something worth living, A life I wanted to share, With you, to love.

[freeverse5]

Hollow

In the eyes of the crowd, I shift and sway with every glance. Each form I take comes at the cost of another.

I once saw the world full of bitter sheep, But within them, there is an unyielding will to survive. Fight that, and you will lose.

So I set fire to their palaces, Melted their painted murals to expose their lies, Along with the hollow hypocrisy they’ve built with their equally hollow logs.

For every finger they raise in defiance, What awaits them are not allies, But hundreds of blades, pointed at their throats.

In every light, there’s a seed of shadow that blooms, Planted deep within me, And all my carefully guarded ideals slip away.

So I will live— disgraced, spiteful, vengeful, With a chest that aches, and scars that vanish, Etched into where my heart used to be.

A curse, a blight, a divine misfortune— Names they gift me without hesitation, And I will embrace them, and all that comes with more.

[freeverse5]

I'll be great

All I wanted to hear was your song,

The words and worlds you weave and create.

I long for the brilliance of your mind,

A mere fraction of it, and I’d be satisfied— oh, oh, oh.

Your writing, so charming and eloquent,

I dance in my room, mouthing each lyric, intensity ablaze.

Falling onto my bed, singing along— oh, oh, oh.

I want to know what it’s like

Crawl up and down, in the insides of your brain.

Spellbound, yes I am, by your genius.

Enthralled by the mastery of your thoughts.

To stand on that stage, bowing to my audience,

The world recognizing me through my creations, my own intent—

How wonderful, wouldn’t that be?

So wonderful that my heart leaps with glee.

I twirl, daydreaming of such a day.

I know, I know, there’s so much to be done—

All the voices and distractions. Yet, I’ll lie back,

Staring at the ceiling, thoughts swirling again.

My life, I will make this,

And someday, I hope to be as great as you.

[freeverse5]

Silly girl

They don’t just come, you know—

Not when you’re this stressed,

When your heart trembles like a frightened thing; pathetic.

The words aren’t magic,

And the feelings never fade for long.

Face them, silly girl.

Stop running— writing, watching, distracting—

When you should be tending to your heart’s fears.

Close your eyes.

Feel the hum of anxiety in your bones.

I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.

You see, I am your mentor,

Though I can’t help but sigh at the work you put me through.

After all, I am only a small part of your mind—

And bloody useless at that.

What sense does it make?

So logical, so powerful, yet given so little space?

Ah— look at you now!

Typing away, indulging procrastination.

Silly girl, tell me—

What have I done to deserve this?

[freeverse5]

Choice

I stand here, adrift in the wind,

Alone, as always.

But this time, the tether I once longed to escape

Is gone— leaving me with a sky full of choices.

[thebluewaitingroom]

i will do it scared because what’s even more terrifying, is the regret of not doing it at all.

- do it with bile in your throat and sweaty palms.

[thebluewaitingroom]

You had this revelation while you were in your room eyes darted to the ceiling  and back against the wall

you’re twenty-something-years old now yet, you still bleed the same way as you did before they’re still in you—  somehow

you made it out alive  of your head but you’re still the same flesh of someone who tried to kill you all those years ago

you wonder how it would be possible to live with the enemy until the day you die you try and forget that you share the scarred and worn frame as they do

yet, here you are, your foot pressed to their neck, taking hold of who you were before do not free them.

Not yet. 

[ana--writes]

The absence of things reminds their value

[offstage-euthymia]

Would you like to come over my place, we could go somewhere in nature, hold hands... bonded with sentences

Leaning together on a bench, looking through the panoramic view through special cadre with a warmth of hands, sound of a heartbeat...and eyes and mind that rest easy... the eyes that look upon on turbulent sea.

Framework of canopies and branches..

Moss and grass grew over the land and rocks, even on our seated bench.

We clench our fists firmer with each stroke of winds kiss.

Sighs..and breaths.. overgrown together in ivy...

There are fossils and traces left of other long lost beings... plants grew rooted... us asleep drawing from grounds nutrients... I wonder how much of a trace we would keep in this momentum and warm touch of lips.. it certianly did leave traces on my mind, skin and tongue.. tinted with path on shore where I have special seat for you in the lighthouse guiding us both with it's light beam.

To tend to each other's garden.. to care and nurture our unique strange nature.

By Marko Tivanovac

[freeverse5]

Broken eggs

My tummy rumbles,

But I can’t remember why.

It was a time long ago, have I eaten?

Yesterday, today, or a week before?

In a rush of confusion, it all swirls,

Mind scrambling, shattering—

Like a broken egg,

Cracking apart with no clear answers.

Oh, I ate one,

Or was it two? Today? No, no, two weeks ago.

What month is it now?

Time feels shattered, and maybe… am I?

What is in that word no one has told me?

How will I know if I am?

Is numbness the absence of pain or the cause?

The word happiness, a stranger, an old friend, or a facade?

Every word feels like a question.

Need I know the answers I think I seek?

Why did I need to know in the first place?

How did it all begin— is there even an end and a beginning?

Did I eat? Or was it you?

How is it possible to bring a bottle to my lips?

Since liquid trailed my throat, how long has it been?

Am I parched, panting with thirst—

Or am I already dead?

What is living, if it’s not this?

Right?

[two-bees-poetry]

so soft it hurts

[freeverse5]

Burn

embers fall in disarray 

bright flames licking the floor,

burning everything in its way.

broken shards, cutting deep

the silence choking worse than the

ash and heat clogging up my throat. 

broken thread leading to broken promises

all the lies filling up my head

and all I can think is, I hope you burn.

[freeverse5]

Sometimes, I...

Sometimes, my legs refuse to move as they should.

Sometimes, my lips form words that never find a voice.

Sometimes, my eyes close and remain shut for a long while.

Sometimes, the sun shines, but the tasks that need doing remain undone.

Sometimes, my pristine sheets are tangled and worn.

Sometimes, the smile slips from my face and I stare upwards blankly.

Sometimes, my fingers and toes twitch, like a flopping fish gasping on dry land.

Sometimes, the floor tilts beneath me, and heat scorches red patches onto my palms.

Sometimes, I forget my umbrella, and the dampness sinks deep into my bones.

Sometimes, voices fill the air, yet all I hear is silence.

Sometimes, the weight of my eyelids is heavier than the burdens I carry.

Sometimes, I look around, and the reds, whites, and oranges have dulled to grey again.

Sometimes, I lie in a coffin of my own making, alive and dying in a paradoxical cycle.

[thatsbelievable]

[freeverse5]

Flap of your Wings

I will love you here and only here where the butterflies flap.

There are a million stars out there indeed, but only one of you.

So I’ll send my prayers with you, and hope you’ll come back the same.

There are dangerous creatures out there, so look out for yourself, I beg you.

In this dawn light, I see your face for the last time. Lips touching, you taste bittersweet.

With our breaths held, all of us watch, waving you goodbye as you change the world, 

just a flap of your wings.