Monday

~~~~~ 

Barely-visible-gray graphite smears

Blending into the tired sky, 

Skiiiiish-ing sound of rubber wheels

Against hard, cold, soaked asphalt;

Feeling the rythmic bumping

Up-- and down, Up-- and down

Of the overly-optimistic dandelion

Screaming "SCHOOL BUS" to the whole world;

A sigh, that dull throbbing that never

Seems to leave; fasting until Friday--

Four more days-- peeved, pinching

The bridge of my nose, as if holding on for dear life;

Out the window, through glass, my eyes stray

To the water drops flecking the air,

Splashes shattering crystal mirrors that

Clutter the worn and weary streets.

This is what Monday brings.

ICARUS 

Little boy,

Locked away,

Always longing for wings to save

Him from his cell and cave

Then one day his cellmate came and

Gave him feathers strung on wax.

Never was his joy so great

He swung upwards on  wings relaxed

But the sun was strong

The wax was softened

Little boy falling, fallen.

His feathers drifted on the sea

With Davy Jones, he came to be.

If only he had stayed down low,

Maybe he would be here now.

I haven't written poetry in a while and now everything I try sucks so :// I'm not happy with this at all but at least it exists I guess.

———

it’s friday. my mouth tastes like mint and

i feel a bit like pandora, or a princess,

what with the purple and gold 

and the weight in my hand: that thing 

with feathers,

a bird in the box of sins.

what with

the wings in my chest. 

he smiles at me and

shame collects at the base of my skull

like rainwater pooling into a divot in the pavement.

the feathers bely the claws— 

i get it. i know.

i’m not pretty enough

to smile back.

oh, to be paper thin 

and lovely, fluttering in the wind

a sheet of newsprint on a clothing line,

falling to pieces at the promise of rain.

a sapling, unrealized, and hunchbacked,

splintered and scuffed across the pavement. 

my stomach will growl for this destruction 

tomorrow but for now 

it is friday and

my mouth tastes like

mint. 

Ohmygoodness, Abi, that's amazing! I love the repetition of the first line, the descriptions in the second stanza, and how you portray the feelings is amazing. Ah!

Here's something I wrote in my notes fro NaNo that's kind of poet-esque, mostly because of my OC's manner of speaking and beautifully worded life tangents. <3 (She's a little... harsh, I'll warn you.)

Life.

A broad statement, broadcasted casually within the confides of four measly letters. Life,  inexplicably everything, alpha and omega, what we undertake the moment we are conceived. Something bigger than us. Something unable to be adequately described by the ignorant and petty human mind.

It is often compared to an enjoyable story or a roller coaster of sorts. But that is to fool ourselves into believing we have grasped it, in its fullness, in its majesty. Because life is more than a frivolous fairytale or a ride for trivial amusement. It is the canopy undertaking all in existence, coexisting with the Grim Reaper, flourishing relentlessly with worlds unknown.

It is similar in theory to a bug buzzing noisily above my head, there and true, but annoyingly out of reach, a bug with eyes that glitter with a spectrum of thoughts and feelings, with wings of starbound elation and wishes of drowning after dwelling in the deep end for too long, and so much more, stretching beyond what is humanly comprehendable. 

Wow, everyone's poems are so good! Also, ONE THOUSANDDDDDDD!!!!! :D

jack-o-sock has a pumpkin head 

Pens are inanimate, Pens are dead 

when you sculpt a dog with glue 

i might glue some Pens to you

Pens 

Pens

Pens 

Pens

Pens

Yay, 1000! I'll celebrate with this angsty poem I wrote a few days:

anxiety by a sympathetic outsider

i. vying on the offbeat of a circadian

rhythm, picking up the 

pieces i've left behind--- someone help, my

hands were not meant to mend a broken mentality

ii. tick tock, what an enigma life can

be, it's some once-beautiful broken 

mirror- my hands are still cut by the shards

iii. i'm orpheus and i've looked down upon my

past, my crystal days are gone, social cues and

poison smiles have taken their place; tell me when it's

over, i've long sinced closed my eyes

iv. oh why, it's all too much--- bubble gum and

cracked nails, hip hop and movie screens, apple

phones, cupped-hand whispers, time on the

wall, pencil tap ringing bell chatter chatter muscles tight did they say my name

falling falling pressure pressure pressure 

building/until//i///

burst 

And I'm back again with more poems! The first two I wrote a while back, the last one I wrote today.

pinkie promise

something in the way that you

always flash me this crooked smile whenever

our fingers lock

lets me know that you will always

chase away the shadows that

tug at my heels. that you will always

place a finger under my chin so i can look up. that you will always

catch my tears in your palm and hold me tight and

never let go

ad astra

all that you know stretches far beyond the 

stars; celestial expertise, wisdom abound

raising your hands to the

planets and the comets, stardust-hewn

oh the brain you have is full of

starlit knowledge, while all i know is that

the world will sing with peace if i only

hold your hand

starry-eyed

it was when that ethereal backhanded slap of

truth burned a firey path across my

elephantine ego that my eyes could finally

accept that the screaming light would always be 

there--- peeled-open eyelids met

galoshes and candy wrappers and friends and romans and countrymen and fingernails and hairties and faults in the stars and faults in ourselves and orange marigolds and white floor tiles and locker combinations and soapboxes and red leaves and layered clouds and i dreamed a dream and on wednesdays we wear pink and cancer ribbons and

and even though it was so big life just felt so much smaller

because if these are the things that matter than how trivial is life

but then it changed to

dancing candles and bonfires and playground slides and yipping dogs and movies screens and angel of god and rosary beads and votes for women! and popcorn and converse and fur elise and something so beautiful it glows through it all

and it gives me something placidly glorious

because what if life is more than we know

what if the little things make it not trivial but amazing

what if we could all look at the world so incredible and so bright and say "i have hope for you" 

That smile

~~~~~ 

That day--
It was a day of firsts--
The first time
I heard her
Prove she could speak five languages
The first time
I saw her surrounded by people, praising her;
The first time
I saw her brilliance and charm
To such an extent;
The first time
I saw that
smile.

It was the kind of smile that made you sad,
Not because it was forced, or malicious,
Because it wasn't.
It was beautiful, radiant, an absolute rarity.
But it was still sad, the kind that makes you
Feel cold and distant, like when you see
Someone so happy, and for some reason you feel
Like you're so far away from them even though
They're standing right in front of you.

That's how I felt when I saw her that day,
Lit up in that golden light, that sort of ballroom-tint,
Her eyes shining, gown flowing, hair elegantly twirled up;
And then, that smile.

I already knew it was the last time I would see her,
This was her departing party, after all;
but seeing that gorgeous smile of hers
For the first time,
I wished things were different:
That I had made her smile like that in her time staying with me,
Or that this moment could last forever, me included,
Or that she would stay for longer and smile like that again.

But I knew she couldn't.
She was a capable woman,
A shy woman, yet full of dreams,
And she was finally getting to
Follow those dreams, for the first time,
Just like how I saw that smile:
For the first time.