sea creature poems

grace. twentysomething. feminist, fossil collector, failed piano student poems // chapbook // about // main blog

[meanb0ne]

[pollen]

Mary Oliver, from "Starlings in Winter"

[apoemaday]

Bad Magic

by frankie bb

I'm orchestrating a change in plans unsurprisingly the weatherman is a taker of bribes. The sea glass stretched over the memory like a birthday gift of emotional amnesia. I meet my best friends in the blind spots pruning their coffins to inspire new growth. Let's adopt the attitude of a tiny seed, carried on the breeze, and landing on a target. The audience breaks out of the amphitheater and disappears down a drain. I am finally cured & finally perfect, what could be worse than facing the authority of circumstances? Perhaps pulling a mirror out of a hat. Bad magic we ignore it we find the feather's melting point and keep on flying.

[achillesinhighheels]

[oceanvuongs]

tatsuki fujimoto

[methodical-coffee]

Remy Charlip & Jerry Joyner.

[riverbird]

"There is a bird and a stone in your body. Your job is to not kill the bird with the stone." Victoria Chang, from The Trees Witness Everything

[chateauofmymind]

[rozieramati]

Comme des Garçons: Poem T-Shirt (2002)  Designed By: Junya Watanabe

[undernightskies]

I make memories like an alchemist, turning bone into stardust, transmuting a gentle ‘I love you’ into the whisper of wind through our temples.

I kiss your photograph each morning and you

are alive.

I was four

in my t-shirt that said

‘Daddy’s little devil’.

And then I was twelve.

My diary records the momentous

thrill of boys.

I fell in love with

my longing for them,

and sometimes

their sullen lips.

I have written before,

of the cockatoos that flew

from my chest,

at seventeen,

beating their wings in a frenzy

of escape.

Words spoken like ambulance sirens,

and other soft as petals exhaling

Flowers, wound into my hair

and then for so long,

an absence.

So many things to glide over… this happened, then that.

Golden, spectacular, majestic things, and grimy, muddy, silt-on-the-bottom-of-the river parts.

The times where life twisted within its own small hurricane, and suddenly I am flying with a new pack of birds.

The bliss of small hands becoming bigger than my own.

Of people leaving me, forever. Of finding you, forever. How I make the memories last, is by sticking them to the lining of my veins and bleeding them into the walls of my heart.

Her, on the edge of the bed, smiling so sweetly I felt my heart crack. A kiss is never final, if you can still feel it.

I will always pick flowers for the ones I love. Please remember me amongst the wisteria, calendula and phlox.

I am trying to make memories so you can find me on the scent of blooms as the shift of light catches a brief glimpse of us all.

[weltenwellen]

Kaveh Akbar, from “Desunt Nonnulla", Calling a Wolf a Wolf

[birchblood]

[sapphothetic-moved]

david foster wallace, susannah irene, anne carson

[gwydionmisha]

Cat Moving Kittens By Austin Smith

We must have known, Even as we reached Down to touch them Where we’d found them   Shut-eyed and trembling Under a straw bale In the haymow, that She would move them   That night under cover Of darkness, and that By finding them We were making certain   We wouldn’t see them again Until we saw them Crouching under the pickup Like sullen teens, having gone   As wild by then as they’d gone Still in her mouth that night She made a decision Any mother might make   Upon guessing the intentions Of the state: to go and to Go now, taking everything You love between your teeth.

[petaltexturedskies]

Sylvia Plath, from "Letter in November" written 11 November 1962, and originally published in Ariel in 1965

[frailbug]

in my room

[havingapoemwithyou]

Third sonnet by Tawanda Mulalu