Walcott Poetry

Blue grey soul with grey blue eyes.

[infamouslyroggylives-deactivate]

In Heat

Raw ache as her kundalini springs to life

seeps between folds of sleep and makes me rise

What is 5am for if not for illicit entanglement?

I tell her to be a good bird and fly off the peak

She is a rolling tumbler of moans

Whipping the ground from beneath my feet

Blessed be thy fervor churned in heat

It brings out the inspirit worshipper in me

[walcottpoetry]

The Brick

Grief loves to

Reassert itself

When I’m worn down

By the other hills

In life

I’m climbing.

That one is an

Infinite

Upwards crawl.

She is never

Coming back.

[walcottpoetry]

Fighting Myself

It’s always my body this, my body that

My body can’t get out of bed today

My body is having trouble eating today

My body is tight with anxiety today but I don’t know why

I watch my friends compete in a race

My body cannot run like that

I see a woman come in porn

My body cannot orgasm like that

I see a person be active all day

My body cannot sustain that

My body seems best at rest and I try to move but it wants to hurt and cramp and nauseate and fight me

And I don’t know how to fight back against myself

[chucklingpecan]

Elegy for Big Dave

Beth strolled through the garage brushing away cobwebs and scattering spiders and on a bench full of creamers and cups sat a huge egg --- a porcelain crock blessed with a face and big ears for handles It had a one dollar tag and a big glassy scowl and a tag that silently begged “Call me Dave”

At home in the den Beth on the sofa Big Dave on the shelf tucked between books she fired up cartoons and Judge Judy

Onscreen was a family feisty and furious and primed up for a fight A mama in black poked the chest of her sister and snarled “You Gave Away Grandpa’s Remains”

She held up a photo of Grandpa half focused but tastefully framed and Lord! --- if it wasn’t Big Dave!

Before fists hit their targets on set Beth jumped from her seat got a box and printed a label

She pulled Dave down from the shelf his smile seemed to blossom and his ears sure looked perky as she speed dialed FedEx for a pickup and a bit of redemption

[walcottpoetry]

I Am Always Coming Back

He’s never really loved me.

He’s loved the parts of me that please him,

The parts of me that have believed whatever he said,

The parts of me that lived for him and always put his needs above my own.

Anything outside of that is just a detour until I come back to him.

I’m always coming back, always, always, he can’t stand the idea that this could be permanent, won’t stand it, he can squeeze his eyes shut and erase it, he can erase my job and relationship and choices I’ve made on my own, he can erase me down by 10 years because

I am always coming back.

I was never meant to be my own person. That’s not why he had me. I’m meant to soothe and serve and, ultimately save—his life.

And every time we interact he tries to put me back inside the box of who I used to be and admittedly I try to fit in it because it hurts too much to be shoved and shoved and have the edges cut into you.

[walcottpoetry]

Finally

I felt

a pang

of love

for him

tonight.

I asked if

he wanted

to lick the spoon—

our eyes met

as we both

knew the answer.

[walcottpoetry]

Reset Me

I lost a lot of

grounding when I lost

you.

Sometimes I catch

myself still waiting

for the game to reset,

for someone to

realize things went off

course and

start me over—

I wake up that

Saturday morning, I

get no phone call, he

and I go hiking like

we were supposed to, we

never know that

in some timeline

you died today.

Life still feels

surreal.

How do my choices

matter when I'm

not on the

path I'm supposed

to be on?

My sister had to

know what shattering

feels like at 18

and for that I

don't know I

can forgive.

I mourn who

we used to be.

I grieve how I

thought things

were going to turn out.

I will visit

your grave

for the rest of my life.

[walcottpoetry]

I disarm you at the

dinner table, literally you

take your elbows off the wood

and hang your hands

down by your sides.

A blow back, a

quake that made

you step back

just a bit, my

words shortened your

space, made you pull in

and become smaller.

You (rightly) never

expected to feel

belittled by me.

You (rightly) never

expected this amount of doubt.

Your arms don't

know what to do

with the heaviness

I handed you and

(understandably)

you act like you

can drop it. I

feel that inch

you moved away

so deeply.

[walcottpoetry]

I Idolize You

Inside of your mind

do I find positive thoughts

or ones you diffuse?

Teach me clarity.

Teach me the ways you stay calm.

Teach me your smile.

Never nervous talk,

your words always have purpose.

You level my spill.

I have never met

someone so intentional.

Each action, you know.

You knew touching knees,

kissing me in parking lots—

I heard you, I heard.

Inside of your mind

you do more than let on.

You work. You reframe.

You take things we fear

and love them like loving me.

You are bravery.

[walcottpoetry]

We Built

I know I shouldn't put you

on a pedestal but god

do I love looking at you up there.

I love how you try to

pull me up with you.

But it's yours, your golden column,

your marble pillar,

built by my hands and his hands.

We want to hold you

as highly but as closely

as possible.

[walcottpoetry]

I am the Walls

Do you have a favorite place?

Do you have a place you

go to sink and sink

and be around people

but in way lose yourself? 

A place where you are 

the furniture, the decor, the scenery,

you’re getting mopped over

as the bell rings its last. 

You go there because you

feel one with the floor,

the walls, you can be

wood or stone of vinyl or mud. 

You go to sit down and

be an object and

let the world filter through you. 

I hope you never lost that place. 

I hope you never beat yourself up 

for sinking into existing there.

I hope you keep going, back

and back again, until your

cleared mind barely

fills up again between visits. 

[walcottpoetry]

The Guards Let You In

You disarm me.

You make me feel

wall-less, a castle with

no moat, no gate,

no drawbridge even,

just a wide open door—

The guards let you in.

You are always welcome

where others aren’t.

The other seat in here

is open for you

to stare out my eyes

at the lands beyond

and truly see what I see.

The guards let you in

because you always

leave the place better

than you found it,

shinier, stronger,

feeling less empty

even as you step out.

Maybe because we know

you’ll always be back.

Take me over anytime.

[walcottpoetry]

I love multiple people

Wide eyed

Terrified I

rode the plane to

10,000 feet

I severed myself from

The side not knowing

What reality I’d

Fall into

Likely spikes, I

thought, alligators.

Deathly blows to

A loving union.

But I hit

Soft tissue.

Skin that

Gave way to me.

Hands that

Assured me I

Had broken no bones.

I did the one

Thing they told me

Not to do and

On that side I

Found bliss.

[walcottpoetry]

I feel my wounds healing

When I’m with you.

My skin is stitched,

My bruises fade,

My heart grows light and soft.

You sew me up

And dress me down,

You make me feel brand new.

[lycanthrology]

[attempting to flirt] if i was stuck in a timeloop id desperately explain my situation to you every single reset

[walcottpoetry]

Gasp

I will never be ok again.

Not once she brushed

Her hand down my leg,

Her red painted nails

Gripped my knee.

No I will never be ok again.

She dragged her fingers

Up my thigh, my hip,

And my insides spasmed.

A twitch, a tickle,

A flutter,

A cry.

I will never again

Take the rough and uninterested;

I now only want

This gasp of a touch.

[walcottpoetry]

Your arms are the comfort

I search for in thrift stores

Your skin is the calm

I mimic with herbs