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Literature Text
At first refrain I'll bound you to the sky
an open book, some distant wish-for-more
sweet hopeless wanderer of tragedies.
Cry not for arbiters of grief; not for
us broken things. We haven't wings like yours
nor worlds within our reach. No, you should live
undaunted by an anchor's weight. With stars,
my love. And in the second verse I'll write
what fool I've been, with blind and barren mind.
I'll ask the gods for gravity again
and only then, with conscience lost, abide
to hear your song: a landlocked lover's hymn.
But once the star-light touched your skin, you knew
my oceans would not hold enough of you.
an open book, some distant wish-for-more
sweet hopeless wanderer of tragedies.
Cry not for arbiters of grief; not for
us broken things. We haven't wings like yours
nor worlds within our reach. No, you should live
undaunted by an anchor's weight. With stars,
my love. And in the second verse I'll write
what fool I've been, with blind and barren mind.
I'll ask the gods for gravity again
and only then, with conscience lost, abide
to hear your song: a landlocked lover's hymn.
But once the star-light touched your skin, you knew
my oceans would not hold enough of you.
Literature
consecrate
authenticity an arsenic
in morning coffee, in the smiles
pressed like ironed laundry,
because I feel like one wrong breath,
one wrong kiss between glossed lips and soft jaws
and I will be nailed to a cross
deception a shame rising like steam,
where teeth grind against each other
like clockwork gears, tick tick ticking
while the tongue kisses the roof of its cathedral
like a prayer to gods yet to be named
because her face is a mosaic window
shining the sin out of love
Literature
Untitled
your memory is heavy
I keep trying to unload the weight of you in words
but still I'm burdened
Literature
no room
I am so full of me
there is no room
for you in here.
You can be out
there, alongside me,
but there is no room in here.
The hotel is full.
I am the Anna Madrigal
of my own soul.
So you be you
and I will be me.
If there is connection,
I will cherish it.
If there is not,
I will not miss it.
This does not diminish
my love and devotion,
nor your own to me.
It just makes it real.
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Haven't written in iambic pentameter in ages. Sorry if it's terrible.
© 2014 - 2024 nawkaman
Comments8
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breathtaking imagery throughout, nate sugar
keep belting out these amazing poem-notes
keep belting out these amazing poem-notes