(no subject)
I did poetry month in April. A poem a day for a month. Unedited... so anything I post will be Eeesh rough- but I'd love to get some critique on my favorite pieces:
untitled
When I squeezed on my second skin
contorted
wriggling
into the small fuzzy form
my bones didn't matter
they were all broken anyway
helped me fit better
in my strange new shape
my face staring out
like a me mask
The camouflage was perfect
a new skinned girl
you'd never see my bruises
broken body
broken spirit
broken heart
but it didn't hide my face
which was a problem
No prince would kill me
no matter how much I begged
cut off my head
throw me in the fire
make me new like a phoenix
if he could see this face
this human face
this cursed human face
lost in thought
left unguarded
hurting
So I peeled off my cat skin
made myself new like a phoenix
reclaimed what was left
bruises faded
bones mended
spirits take longer
and hearts?
they never mend
The Servant Fingers Work
I close my eyes and imagine first
The master's face.
I see it clearly
as if she were in front of me
delicate curved jaw
eyes- their intensity ignored
to place them in relation to her nose and lips.
The spread and slope of her brow.
Her face is my playground.
I consider what she needs from me
how I can serve her
and I draw her changed.
I cut her flesh.
With every slice I make her new
The hardest step is always mutilation.
The servant fingers work to pull
the soft and supple living flesh
And in the end
she worships me
for what I've done.
She thanks me for her transformation
and I pray to god she comes to call again.
New Berlin
Your eyes are on my boarders
I've moved to a state of red alert
all your spies are fingertips
and your spies will soon be sneaking up my skirt
But I don't have an iron curtain
I don't have no fucking wall
I don't have much military
my defenses have been whittled down to nothing at all
So you're pressing your advantage
like any skilled tactician
You lied to me you said it was
just a diplomatic mission
I still have one secret weapon
and it hums and it flares in my chest
You won't realize you're marked for destruction
until your spies have gotten me completely undressed
You've made a key strategic error
all your spies they never knew the score
despite your exhaustive intelligence
you didn't see that love could be the next cold war
untitled
I wonder, will I have enough bread for when everybody comes?
I wonder, will I have enough bread for when everybody comes by for a visit?
And if you wonder if that means you too
with everything I hate about you?
You've seen me with my head unscrewed
so, yes, I think you should come down.
I wonder, will I have enough fish for all you jerks?
I wonder, will I have enough fish for all you jerks who come by uninvited?
And when my friend does his parlor trick
we'll have so much fish that it makes me sick
You're the habit I could never kick
and yes, I think you should come down.
I'm interested in detailed concrit if anyone has the time!
I also have two or three much longer poems that I'll post eventually.
(I'd love to see this com active again!)
untitled
When I squeezed on my second skin
contorted
wriggling
into the small fuzzy form
my bones didn't matter
they were all broken anyway
helped me fit better
in my strange new shape
my face staring out
like a me mask
The camouflage was perfect
a new skinned girl
you'd never see my bruises
broken body
broken spirit
broken heart
but it didn't hide my face
which was a problem
No prince would kill me
no matter how much I begged
cut off my head
throw me in the fire
make me new like a phoenix
if he could see this face
this human face
this cursed human face
lost in thought
left unguarded
hurting
So I peeled off my cat skin
made myself new like a phoenix
reclaimed what was left
bruises faded
bones mended
spirits take longer
and hearts?
they never mend
The Servant Fingers Work
I close my eyes and imagine first
The master's face.
I see it clearly
as if she were in front of me
delicate curved jaw
eyes- their intensity ignored
to place them in relation to her nose and lips.
The spread and slope of her brow.
Her face is my playground.
I consider what she needs from me
how I can serve her
and I draw her changed.
I cut her flesh.
With every slice I make her new
The hardest step is always mutilation.
The servant fingers work to pull
the soft and supple living flesh
And in the end
she worships me
for what I've done.
She thanks me for her transformation
and I pray to god she comes to call again.
New Berlin
Your eyes are on my boarders
I've moved to a state of red alert
all your spies are fingertips
and your spies will soon be sneaking up my skirt
But I don't have an iron curtain
I don't have no fucking wall
I don't have much military
my defenses have been whittled down to nothing at all
So you're pressing your advantage
like any skilled tactician
You lied to me you said it was
just a diplomatic mission
I still have one secret weapon
and it hums and it flares in my chest
You won't realize you're marked for destruction
until your spies have gotten me completely undressed
You've made a key strategic error
all your spies they never knew the score
despite your exhaustive intelligence
you didn't see that love could be the next cold war
untitled
I wonder, will I have enough bread for when everybody comes?
I wonder, will I have enough bread for when everybody comes by for a visit?
And if you wonder if that means you too
with everything I hate about you?
You've seen me with my head unscrewed
so, yes, I think you should come down.
I wonder, will I have enough fish for all you jerks?
I wonder, will I have enough fish for all you jerks who come by uninvited?
And when my friend does his parlor trick
we'll have so much fish that it makes me sick
You're the habit I could never kick
and yes, I think you should come down.
I'm interested in detailed concrit if anyone has the time!
I also have two or three much longer poems that I'll post eventually.
(I'd love to see this com active again!)