She dances in the meadows
Sweet, white ballet shoes
Hah I did this right, right? I don't know why, but the image of little fairies in white ballet shoes hovering over grass dancing is stuck in my head.
Who was lovedThere was a hope
There was a prayer
Among those who followed the Beloved -
The Mother, The Father, the child.
They had a name;
A name never set in stone.
Death was too easy
Life, too mucilaginous.
Some say she forsakes the Beings
But she loved. For that
Medusa would never
Turn her to stone.
Above all else
There was once
Somewhere in here, there's a songI'm staring at the screen wondering where my words are.
They're here somewhere - or at least they once were.
I wonder if someone could save me from this.
Or if I was doomed to fall from the beginning.
Blood TiesThere was once a little girl, the most loved little girl in all existence. One day, someone killed her. And everyone was sad. Everyone was devastated. 'But how could she die,' they all wondered. She was their heart, their soul, and without her, how could they continue?
But they did. Because they had to. And they kept on loving her. Until the day they all died.
Story Time for the Wicked ThingsYou forget that her life is lost and too much blood has fallen
Angels die but love lives on
And a fairytale always ends
Frustration in Her VoiceShe's held her tongue for so long
She's forgotten what to say
When the words seem ready
They get lost along the way
And when the letters start to make a sound
It's been long gone, the end of the day
Witch-EyesDeath follows her Witch-Eyes everywhere
Yet so does life, in her presence of serenity
Her eyes, for knowledge, leave your soul curious - yet bare
So that her voice could take away all inner acerbity
Because I love youIf you were the sun, then I'd be the sky
So that I may show just how brilliant you are
If you were the clouds, then I'd be the wind
So that I could show you off to the world
If you were the moon, then I'd be the darkness
So that you could shine beyond me
If you were the stars, then I'd be the galaxy
So that you may have a home to call your own
he made me cry long hoursI think the man who opened
the Starbucks door for me today
knew that I was broken. I think,
as he rushed to get the door
before I got there, he knew
my arms would snap off if I tried
to open it myself. I think he saw
something crooked behind my
straight teeth. I think crying
is my job and a day without bawling
my eyes out is a fucking holiday.
just so you know, I've learned how
love works: it's you doing nothing
and that meaning everything to me;
it's me doing everything and that
meaning nothing to you. we're broken,
you know. like a song on repeat, I've tried
countless times to fix us. I even volunteered
to be a janitor to sweep up all the pieces.
but I can't fix something that you broke. so
will you just leave me alone already? I'm not-
look closely, I have 34 syllables just for you:
my lips can't speak so
I settle with the open-
ing of hips instead.
I am begging you
to please be careful when you
pull off my tight pants.
I have mailed the notes-to-self
to my eye sockets, the ones tha
to cry and be heldhe's awake and he's cold and he's
crying in my arms, whispering songs
singing the sound of the rain into my ear
tears are falling on our cheeks
our skin swallowing the water
we are naked and calm
beneath the cinnamon tree
our skin cracking as its leaves land in our hair
holding dry leaves in our hands
holding them to our hearts
he's kissing my shoulder
the wind blowing my hair
onto his spine
my skin is bruised and cold
but he holds me as my eyes cry
into his heart, soaking the leaves
our bodies drifting and fading
into sleep, the leaves awakening
our skin cold and dry- the leaves alive
if the leaves were our hearts
blowing in and out of the wind
landing in our lover's hair
soaking up our lover's tears
falling asleep and awakening
with the seasons
The Stalker's PathYou allowed my presence
To be your malady
So fragile in essence
The last of the letters
Has finally been sent
No newspaper cuttings
Just these feelings to vent
Alone in my abode
At the dining room table
I relinquish romance
To the realms of fable
The time of no reply
Holds sway over my life
Fork for food, spoon for sauce
Redundant is my knife
Have you forgot my name
Watch from your widow's walk
As you drench me in shame
Out to sea, out of sight
You cast my memory
I'll run aground on the shores
Of your inequity
Simdi Bir Yerlerde
"Gün günden odamın şeklini alıyorum"
ŞİMDİ BİR YERLERDE
Şimdi bir yerlerde topraklara su döküyor kadınlar
Şimdi bir yerlerde ekinler tohumlanıyor
Sazlıkların orman orman diplerinde karıncalar sevişiyor
Kumsallarda toprağa değiyor ay
Güneşin hatırasına sarılıyor
Çoban yıldızı gözlerini yumuyor
Şimdi bir yerlerde deniz kokuyor
Kimsesiz köpekler ayaklarını denize sokuyor
Mandıralarda peynire, yoğurda ölüyor inekler
Çeltikler, sulak ama yalnız güneş ülkesi
Derinlerinde tane tane inciler
Derinlerinde bir tok toprak
Çeltiklere varamayan sular
Doyuruyor karpuzları, buğdayları, günebakanları
Kovana dolar gibi
Şehirlere doluşmuş et et kalabalıkları
IgnoranceBroken dreams, a shallow heart,
Wings of innocence torn apart,
Caught in a moment, but out of time,
Lifes a song that just doesnt rhyme,
Selfish wants, puritys destruction,
Snared in the wildfire of needy seduction,
National suicide, greed became lust,
Having to lie in order to trust,
Nightmare, wide awake,
Watching society burn at the stake,
Shattered faith, gone with yesterday,
Back before love was a cliché,
Light inverted, shadows lead,
Growth is faster with a tainted seed,
Destiny, approaching fast,
In a race where all come last,
Apparitions, icy chills,
Blaming ghosts for making the kills,
Breaking silence, whispering screams,
Accepting everything as it first seems,
Ignorance, we brought this on,
Then were surprised when all hope was gone.
compulsive liartruth: my paint water from two days ago is still in my room.
truth: it's murky.
truth: it's foggy outside.
truth: I can't find my shirt.
truth: that's nothing new.
truth: whatis ever new anymore?
truth: that was a rhetorical question.
truth: I lie when i write poetry.
truth: I have suicidal thoughts during dinner often.
truth: there's a reason why I wear baggy clothes around the house.
truth: I'm so ashamed.
truth: lately I've been eating less and getting full more easily.
truth: the pants that were too tight on me are beginning to loosen.
truth: halfway through brushing my teeth I realized I was using someone else's toothbrush.
truth: I didn't care.
truth: I just lied twice.
truth: actually I just lied six times.
truth: I follow you around like a little sister follows her older sister.
truth: I should leave you alone.
truth: I can't leave you alone.
truth: I could've loved someone better than you, you know.
truth: he wouldn't avoid me like you do.
truth: he would notice the days we di
a gust of goldkind heart,
for sending goodwill and good wishes and words;
they have reached me turned into clouds
waltzing through late afternoon air
carelessly, candidly, and sometimes
now, they remind me:
i am unbound like them and i dream
until the world is so warm it melts into honey.
(- a sweetness that i send back to you, hoping
it may remind you:
you are always
the sweetest part of summer
and the gold to someone's day.)
open your hands
and i will pour whispers into them
of sun-flecked meadows, wings, the wind
holding his hands open to embrace
and a thousand other trinkets shaped
like silence and feathers.
(some of them might be tickets for a train over the water;
this is the way i write postcards)
with foreign, restless dust on my fingers
but all the glow of candles in my eyes, i return
and as i take my welcome home,
please take this tinkling sound of keys as your
my favourite birdhouse
is the one remembering your gentle gust of sun.
everyday, every night, all...in preparing a heart
for the vast expanses of america
be sure to schedule disappointments early
so as to leave endings
for bitter defeat
be a firm believer
in the healing power of laughter
this makes trying to stifle
the unavoidable giggles that occur
when considering the irony
of your own demise
a lot more fun
failure romantic again
what we're giving
and completing the circle
when truly taking the time
to find yourself
be sure you've filled out
the proper forms
you'd hate to find yourself
and just one more line to go
it's something like infinity
if it's enough to make you angry
it's enough to make you
it all comes down
to proper planning
day ninei. starting over
i'm deserting bitterness and battle plans
in favour of yeats, plath, and fitzgerald;
i'm going to put myself together again.
you nodded in what i suppose was approval,
but offered no encouragement except for
a small and tender smile; quickly gone.
you've little to say to me these days,
although we always do our best.
we sat silent in the park;
winter at a chilly height,
while the last words of
an unsatisfying latte
( soy, extra shot ) lay
heavy and uncomfortable
with malt biscuits in
my stomach, and with
the knowledge that,
i'll be right back
where i started.
there are some quiet nights when it
almost feels as if i've been placed
on the wrong side of daylight;