**This is a poem I wrote for a friend who's grandma has Alzheimer's. Red hair from Scottish ancestry Red plaid, button up shirts Vaguely she knows me, but She can’t remember me Lost between worlds Wandering among tangled strings— Tangent thoughts She can’t find that one red wire The one that tells her who… Continue reading Red Boy
This is a poem I wrote on Christmas Eve. I originally wrote it with one person in mind, but as I prayed over it, God had someone else in mind. I was just sitting in the living room with my mom and a friend, and in the middle of the conversation, God said, "Her. Quick.… Continue reading That Twinkle in Your Eye
She struts in Glitter bodycon Black beauty High heels Red hair Heads turn her way Her hips sway Queen She dances Hypnotic Unaware of stares Gypsy home Always moving and moving and moving Until the lights are off And the music stops She sings Her own song And keeps dancing Black beauty
She sits in her pocket of the world unperturbed by toxic kisses With her eyes closed she carves designs into her skin— Swirls and lines— With her fingernails on her thighs She sits in the quiet atmosphere half asleep Tired from sleazy men and their slimy words She rubs her hands along the fabric… Continue reading She Sits *Edited*
Cliché is a noun. Clichéd is an adjective.
Fifth generation home. 80s shag carpet. Linoleum kitchen floors. Squeaky Lazy Susan. Slamming screen door. Running barefoot down a gravel driveway Past tall green pines surrounded by cornfields, Mosquito infested swamps, and Crickets and spring peepers. Running on deer trails through purple brambles, Gaining blackberry stains and small scars, Searching for buried treasure: Sun bleached… Continue reading Out On 27th 1/2 St. *Edited*
There was the sun, and stretched out before it was a sea of fire. Taan and Yulius sat on the edge of an island drifting through the sky. It was one cloud, constantly shifting and drifting from one point in the universe to another. They watched the sun slip around to the other side of… Continue reading The World Above.
I cringe so much just thinking about this. For one of my classes, I had to write a bad poem. Naturally, bad poems should never be shared with the world, nonetheless, here is mine for all too see. WARNING: your eyes will hurt after reading this. Looking at her was like looking at the sun. The… Continue reading Loving Her is Like a Random Simile
Avoid imprecise diction. FOR EXAMPLE: Rust-free except for some rust on the passenger door.