#bits of starglow

[goneahead]

I know now how the pines felt, in those heady first few days, when flowers bloomed for the first time. I understand how their resin dark hearts cracked and they spread their arms willingly to the cold forgetfulness of snow. You are four states and nine hundred miles away, and oh, how I know what the pines felt, when the fickle butterflies abandoned them, forever… ~~~~~ weird fact: butterflies are much older than flowering plants

[slowfalter]

Microbes

————

I found your heartbeat under your skin, under my palm, through our arms, a meandering stream, where our hearts meet, in dull harmonies, against the wind, through the window,

cigarette smoke from the neighbours house, on the air, between our lips, where our breath meets, in a singular haze, and I wondered how much of the air in this room was once ours?

I think I heard once, that the microbes in bread, match those on the hands, of it’s unique baker, like the bread is part them, and they are part bread, and I wonder how many microbes, that were once yours, live in me now?

And could I be killing bits of you, every time I drink too much, or I don’t eat enough? That probably isn’t true, but if that’s what I need to think, that looking after me, is really looking after you, then let’s allow it to be true

————

[instruth]

THE SEEDS OF MEMORIES

the seeds of memories,

vulnerable, then comes

a gentle breeze, stored

in the wind tunnel

awaiting a harvest day

awakened, oh calling wind

whispering a silent melody

a song of the whippoorwill

twigs, leaves, a nest

family by a memory instinct

the sprouting stalks dangle

waltzing to the wind dance

spores sway to their display

the genes intermingle

a tapestry of living memory

©Johnny J P Lee

08 July 2023

A Gogyoshiren Poem (15)

Photos Credit J. P. Lee

[persephoneshellhounds]

Six of Cups

“i set my deadfall hands on fire — swallow the ashes,” i wrote and laughed as these words turned black with rot

in two months,

i am no longer inside the skin burning away vividly at the feet of the sun god. i am not a body at the crematorium with matchstick-fingers and gasoline; my bones are whole, pure, pearly, quiet white.

i have been holding my breath, waiting for the smoke to clear without choking. i no longer want to write about the flames and the embers and live-coal hearts; i put my poems down, my cigarettes and pitchfork and step into a gentler flare, and stick my tongue out to lick the sunbeams — they’re warm against my taste buds, like honeyed milk and hibiscus stews.

i am four years old once more, sleeping soundly on my mother’s lap.

— fray narte, "six of cups" || may 16, 2022, 9:10 pm

[manicpixiedeadgirl]

so i'll press my palms above my lids,

and through the holes swear not to peek, 

tap my shoes the shiny shade of red enough times, 

til it's the hundredth candid of us,

imprinting our skin onto the grass-strewn field,

smiling with our sets of leftover baby teeth,

our "problems" in endless games of houses as heard from adults 

things had no choice but to be right,

and we'd embody the colors of the setting sun,

grabbing at it quickly and hungrily our grubby little fingers.

-exiles of playground kingdom

-caela m.

[suntara]

wishing a curse on a wishing star

Dreams don't come true Especially when you wish a curse On a star meant for wishing It's an invitation to the bakery of death Cakes for passing, penny for your desires? . I wish a curse on every wishing star And every stray eyelash, a prayer in a festival What's the point of trying to paint With the ashes of my old Postcards, polaroids and pins? . Dreams don't come true No matter how how hard you try I've wished for it all, believe me For the edges of the half drawn maps To be completed, every line for discovered land . Have you prayed under a meteor shower like me? For every birthday to be the one I'm six feet under Rebirth, riddle me till the ice cracks under my feet I'd imagine emerging from a poppy,   Blank papyrus skin, ridden of cities, undiscovered . I'm wishing a curse on a wishing star tonight Listen to my cursed chants from under your Warm baby blue duvets and walls to barricade all The clouds overhead will hold hands again The stars hidden, stars bleeding, melting . What is the curse I wished for, dare you ask? if you stand on the dye stained roads Nuzzled under a coat, biting against frigid winter You'll see me standing, almost like stone Wishing a curse to stop longing, fulfilled forever . Do you regret knowing that I longed for, A fire burning my map-skin to be extinguished? No paper cups stained with white powder lipstick Or empires that rise under gambles, fold away Gaze at the empty night till lesson learnt . You have a desire too, don't you? Dreams that have been set out like a torch Your solitude kills no one, my funeral is empty Golden candelabras and blood soaked aprons Please, call me selfish, I'm ending my own pain . Stop lying to yourself, stay under your duvets It's raining diamonds now, the stars are falling The world beats no longer, but it will never break Isn't it funny? that I chose to have my funeral Surrounded by pink pillars, everyone staring . Dreams don't come true, nothing is real anymore Black cakes wrapped in gold ribbons It tastes like bloody jam and bloodier chocolate You shattered all the mirrors mirroring the old you Till you pieced yourself to feel longing   . You're the selfish one, aren't you? I did you a favor, the world has stopped But that doesn't mean that it won't begin again You let longing grow out of control, all-in The jack of hearts slicing through my paper heart . Am I six feet under? Or just under the surface? My funeral is a pity party, poppies for rosies You wished under the last star, like a lit candle Melting and hanging on to it's last strings To make the old world long again . My map skin is outdated, is it not? Your carbon city has turned purple, has it not? Skyscrapers a vintage sunset, men slumped over The afterglow of dusk came with daylight Hum-di-dum, you are becoming cake crumbs . The salt roads tighten under daylight The afterglow a bittersweet high, Your solitude kills no one but yourself The world will move on, with a new heart One that doesn't beat off coddled bets . You're still here Standing on the liveliest street of the city Diamonds at your feet, death road avenue You long for too much, your mirrors are distorted Worlds ridden of greed, but you still can't see . I want you to shatter, love, Shatter like everyone else has Shatter till you realize that Longing like mine is more painful than Having no longing at all . . aureatemoonshine

[heartofmuse]

It’s been so long since someone kissed me. It feels like winter on my lips. Permafrost taking hold, undoing what was once full of warmth. And yet in my mind, spring blossoms sing on the swaying branches of trees and a radiant sun warms my skin, but  it is only in my mind, where you and me live in warm summer fantasies. Reality being that my barren lips have no one to kiss and my arms like withered boughs have no one to hold.

e.v.e. (Winter’s soliloquy)

[goneahead]

A prairie winter can’t be tamed. Hungry and ice-feral, it tears across the snow-huddled land, ripping  down trees and roofs and power lines. Come first light, we all stamp our boots at  the cruel cold, blinking at the twisted world. Then a robin begins to sing, and the strain in our  shoulders eases. We crack wind-raw  smiles, grab tools and coffee. True resistance is just this, holding tight to joy, smiling as we  pick up tools, 

yet

again—