#aliaspen

[aliaspen]

@16tinyfrogs has inspired me to try contrapuntal poems and I'm kinda hooked. I have attempted to do the alt text/image description below the cut.

Day 1 - Monday June 29th 2026

Left Column

i come with 

compartments galore

memories stowed away

feelings stored in measure

i hope

like an old dinner mint

sticky and covered in bits of lint

i love you still

i whisper

i reach

Right Column

pockets

zippered and velcroed

for keeping

treasures

though weathered

i always find peace

persevering 

visible

in the silence

palm open

Combined Poem

i come with pockets

zippered and velcroed

compartments galore for keeping

memories stowed away

treasures

feelings stored in measure

though weathered

i hope i always find peace

like an old dinner mint

sticky and covered in bits of lint

persevering

i love you still visible

i whisper in the silence

i reach palm open

[aliaspen]

Write it and weep

Read it and weep again

Sprinkle teardrops in margins

Ink blotches like bargains in footnotes

Trembling hands hold the illegible

Unintelligible

What you don't know still hurts and

The chicken comes first

Your kernel of truth

Blooming, fertile

Future fir of doubt

Never down for the count

Find inkstains on unsteady palms

Blood stains wherever it lands

A splash of iron and salt

A dash of "always my fault"

A spotless mirror to your credit

Adept

A debt

A death

So the burden of proof lies with you

Inside warm, wrinkled sheets

Tear-stained

Write it and weep

Read it and weep again

[aliaspen]

Never meet your heroes

Never shake their hands

Unless you have the stomach

When the mask reveals a man

Never reminisce the past

Don't look too far behind

Some fragile things are better kept

Within the hands of time

For things aren't always what they seem

Some wishes don't come true

Some lies hold hearts and hands and lives up

Better than the truth

[aliaspen]

Blood and tears polish mirror streaks

I taught my reflection to speak sign language and

My baggage is a boulder I roll up the hill I will die on

What's left to rely on is

Eggshells and glass shards

I bleed so well

I hike through hell

Live coals roll under the balls of my feet

Pillars of heat swirl past the horizon

The world was my oyster, gave me

Pearls in my pockets as I step into the sea

I can no longer define 'heavy'

No longer defy gravity

But the hollowness gives me buoyancy

The saltwater offers some relief as

I bleed and I bleed and

I breathe

[aliaspen]

Line thrown in and I reel

Stomach roiling is a habit I've come to rely on

To remind me that sometimes the ocean surface grows still

I will

My mantra

My motto

My most-relied on placebo

A placeholder for blue ribbons

Snake oil and silver medals have a certain ring to them

And I rely on rhythm and rhyme

I relearn how to bide time because

Alliteration and assonance sometimes belie illiteracy

Significant others and lovers may deny intimacy

Yet I am not forced to bail out the boat I sit in alone

Towel thrown in and I heal

Stomach roiling is a habit I've come to rely on

To remind me that sometimes the ocean surface grows still

And someday...

I will

[aliaspen]

I am the umbrella

A spattering of rain drops hit me square in the face

They bring clarity even with my eyes squeezed shut

I am the umbrella

Rounded shoulders

Perpetually curved to shelter from the elements

I am the umbrella

A fickle, flimsy tool

Often upended by a single gust of wind

I am the umbrella

And I am the rain

Cold and biting and relentless

I am the umbrella

Designed to shield others

Made to protect them from myself

[aliaspen]

Time couldn't heal

Or bring back what we lost

And I was a kid

With a bird in a box

That you couldn't pronounce dead

A word I couldn't pronounce yet

We both learned

To keep dead birds

Out of sight

And we both know

To keep lids closed

To keep hope alive

[aliaspen]

Alt text/Image description under the cut

Day 2 - Tuesday June 30th 2026

Left Column

keys and 

power and

make-shift 

devotion

still

bring me to bruised knees

found

broken

hope and

dignity

clutched in tight fists

used to pick long forgotten locks

Right Column

phone and back-up

pads and drugs and

shower-on-the-go wipes 

scented sanitizer and lotion

unopened

wallet, ID, lip balm

hand bag

turned inside out

in search of

what’s left of self

perhaps old rusty hair pins

can still be 

my tools for starting over

Combined Poem

keys and phone and back-up

power and pads and drugs and

make-shift shower-on-the-go wipes 

devotion scented sanitizer and lotion

still unopened

wallet, ID, lip balm

bring me to bruised knees

found hand bag

broken

turned inside out

in search of

hope and

what’s left of self dignity

perhaps old rusty hair pins

clutched in tight fists

can still be 

used to pick long forgotten locks

my tools for starting over