Joyful to Hear (by Mila) · Looking @ Poems

the cat, and i watch (Poem)

2011-11-12T22:33:56Z

on my curtains, the shadows of blown-about leaves dancing in sunrise.

you want to know? (Poem)

2011-06-29T12:54:06Z

I’m telling you I don’t know how to tell you how I feel and what; you’re staring at some far-off corner of my mouth

Off in the distance past-times when I sunburned in bamboo I was consumed by you and nothing therefore broken highways

and stop-signs growing askew in my mind, here’s the turn and down a bumpy jungle road passing passed past a row of worn and dusted jumbled mailboxes empty

of what you want from me.

I didn’t know where to stop and then I did and when the grass grows tall maybe possibly whomever I don’t know if I should stop or stay

or maybe cast off along weather- beaten roads into ghost towns and sugar mills.

It’s cold and cold and old this warehouse, dark and sit beside me ripped jeans and want what we shouldn’t want - here and in today nothing shouts just warmth touch and we strong to hide our grin, and yet

the sort of thing you want to say without a safety net: hello,

in daydreams, in dirty bathroom stalls clutching filling large empty dirty rooms alone with whatever cries we have need to share, this is dirty life, this is sweaty life, lost time and uncut grass and you are my baby and my mother and my unborn face and my silent scream —

and there are ten hundred thousand more where this came from.

and you know it could be I thought it was you and I tried to barge inside and maybe it was you but now I wonder was it me and are these bars and were you reaching in for something possibly you saw

a glimpse of starry shapes strung like street-lights along a loop of west-bound trains, flickering and blinking out when I passed by

there is no grammatically correct in here, language broken and perfectly assigned to what we want to say to each other. Comma me, semicolon you ampersand & never ever a full stop not with you.

but it’s craziness like this, uncensored dreams and foolishness, you take me down in great yawning-yawpish gulps and shake your head and smile

lots of shiny teeth, wrinkles folded at the edges of your eyes, this is it, this is why you’re here, unfolded, twisted, wrapped in me (rapt in you) —

ahh, it’s all foreword, word-play foreplay my pen is mightier than this word.

I wonder what you see when you see what you see in me, because I see my damnation when I turn my eyes toward you, and that is all that living is:

a damned walk along a line (white sparkly reflective in the night) we drew ourselves to keep us living here where we know the way and not out there with the snakes but the distant brushfires — you, tell me to set these words ablaze.

I swallowed what I ate and regurgitated songs of Schopenhauer; Rilke resisted your hand too early on these nerves but I wanted it without pause

to yes maybe strange the edge of madness, dally.

Overheard (Poetwee) (Poem)

2011-04-12T20:44:51Z

OH: I’m happily single : I funk I wish Obama had 2 weeks : Sounds like sweet potato pie, so more - my wedding! I did get the truth.

women aren’t they? Too many buttons. i see. Dear U.S. Armed Forces: Since we’re not a girl enjoying sex,

this is a business – Rose was to administer electric shock therapy ; to be an historic moment : the vagina . Then I wanna know I love it with her. We don’t.

Sounds like it hurts. Really? I’ve come to the canon to change that. : loved the last night – oh no shoes. Does ‘ah-mah-ah-zing’ roughly rhyme with you?

terribly surprised emacs hasn’t become an engine coolant leak.

That’s what Congress needs. Cookies. They’re just to recap : everything worked out of time lost a date. As a good executive team will help save the reservation

I could possibly be an historic moment : too bad when she repeats it , I’ll admit I have suggestions? It is an armadillo. What ? Red velvet’s easy!

Personally, I wrote … entirely disappeared from the Democrats stood firm , the shape of wit . What on Facebook, but look before I funk . I try to distract me. Too bad when my story

Some people called me a govt budget. Cuts cause job losses & 5 lines of liberals! I don’t. BREAKING: Republicans in my headphones.

It’s strangely satisfying when people : called me to make a necessity for next election. Besides, everyone knows something : hmm, CNN must’ve had 2 weeks : Sometimes I look.

Never get the tailpipe. This could possibly be constipated beyond belief.

Obviously. wow , we’re not going on , but a recession isn’t the Dhamma . I could reheat for yrs before I was.

Just performed impromptu slam poetry with leftover dough from suitors . Poets, they mentioned the first. I’m happily single . I tweet is why she said.

Perhaps that didn’t work . the actual writing process . oh, thanks : Make sure you’re slipping.

I’m happily single. True story.

magnified (Poem)

2009-12-11T23:16:11Z

I wanted you to look at me

before I even knew I wanted it.

I’m glad I didn’t know until I looked straight

at you

You already were.

Look at me.

sad girl in snow (Poem)

2009-12-06T09:22:05Z

today, you’re Daddy’s girl grasping a single sky-colored carnation and a camera,

flakes of poems collecting in your fiesty jasper hair - shuffling through drifts of memories of him, and always her, but today, especially him

and behind you, a lonely trail of one girl’s footprints even though you’re not walking alone.

silently speaking with him with the snowflakes around trees dusted with glitter and sparkling with strands of blue light. There are specks of bells ringing far away.

walking back to me, you lay down a second set of prints.

I reach out my gloved hand, take your chilly fingers in mine. You’re years away and right here, holding his hand tightly.

You fish in your pocket for a piece of this little girl - unwrap a cherry cordial, or a shard of peppermint bark and pop it whole in your mouth.

Quickly, you turn your head to glance at me and I see it: a hint of a smile from my sad girl in the snow.

Minutiae (Poem)

2009-12-05T11:12:10Z

I carry around a toothbrush just in case

you call.

tiny little insanities (Poem)

2009-11-25T14:33:08Z

“Wait, what are you doing?” she asks, in between stanzas and phrases from her past. Listening to her voice in her voice, capturing her questions.

In between whispering “closer” and holding out her arm, holding me away, she wants me nearer to her, despite the fear of feeling me.

“You can’t handle me,” she tells me, and I think I can, to hell with the signs; tiny little insanities that tease us out among the hail, tempt us to tempt the storm

“I’ll drive you crazy,” she warns, and I’ve heard that before, finding and losing ourselves in constant retelling, and the truth - I really want her to.

We stumble closer, and wonder why this is the way the world works, when we’ve turned away and into ourselves, she finds me waiting for her to rest her head —

here on my shoulder.

waiting for her to slip her hand — here among my fingers.

“What am I doing?” I ask myself, I wonder about my sanity, when our roads diverge so soon, that I want this more with every word… that I want to be driven crazy.

And she waits for my response, for these words scattered and recollected for my words that tempt her to latch her heart to mine.

“Capture me in your words,” I want to say, capture me with your words, in between the lines and stanzas of our now, and we’ll always wonder what we’re doing.

the calculus of desire (Poem)

2009-10-21T19:28:40Z

The problem seems simple enough —

solve: you ∩ me for certain specific values of you,

and the variable me.

It’s an old problem, unproven, by the wisest

Math isn’t my strongest suit, but

i keep trying to prove this theorem:

For the variable me

& certain specific values of you, the intersection of you and me

exceeds its input values —

the calculus of desire.