Tag: creative writing

what the moon is made of (20160618)

crow10 Comments

the sun isn’t even down
and the moon has already
more than cleared the horizon
(i could measure the angle
using that old trick by
laying fist on top of fist
like bricks)

only a ghost hiding behind clouds
that roll like cream
curdling in pale, lemon-heavy tea

did i say ghost?
the moon is a pile of
polished bones
rounded by a little circle

it sees things
and my bones see things
and from the sky
i can see myself look up
at myself
wondering when i will blink

construction (20160616)

crow7 Comments

i built a house
with my hands
laid a foundation
erected walls
raised a roof
installed windows

i attempted decoration
but stopped at one room
the would floors were okay
but the glass coffee table
and the leather arm chairs
you would have hated them

i didn’t bother to move in
i left it empty
except for those three
pieces of furniture

finger bones (20160614)

crow18 Comments

today my hands hurt
and i struggle with the clay
cutting the base free
to mount it on more clay
to raise it up

the finger bones ache
and i think a good use for them
would be a mala necklace

i ignore the pain
in the joints
but feel it while driving home

these little betrayals
of body makes
a little more paunch
a little less hair
a little more nose
a lot more jowl
so many more things to worry about
and the constant threat
of pain in the feet
of pain in the hands
the chest

memento mori
i count these off
on my finger bones
om mani padme hum

——

for
The Daily Post
Daily Prompt: Struggle

me and my shadow (20160612)

crow14 Comments

i walk on my hands now

i used to walk on my feet
like everyone else
but i got tired of
my shadow always
dogging my heels

i jumped a lot
but that was exhausting
and i always had to come
down

so

now i walk on my hands

the first time
i did it
i was able to lock hands
with my shadow
and wrestle him off the ground

empty where his eyes were
smooth where his ears should be
vacant where his mouth might have opened

yet it laughed
this human-sized oil spill
knowing that my only choices were
to pull it to myself
so that would never be parted
or go back to letting it follow me

i walk on my hands now
on my shadow, hand-in-hand
a compromise

New Poem on SlasherMonster

crow3 Comments

Hey, I have a new poem up on SlasherMonster. It answers the age-old question about what to do with a broken heart.

You can check it out here (and it’s the only place you can see this poem right now, so head on over there. It’s scream.

Also be sure to check out Rose’s companion piece and her excellent reading (also available on this month’s Open Mic.