Every Time (revised) (Adopt-A-Poet/Rupi Kaur)

-
every time
i feel it's the end
the crashing of eyelids
the friction of lashes
the crushing of organs - 
the organ
that beats on and beats itself, the irony
the cracks devoid, hidden of harmony

it's really just the start
the spreading of wings apart
the injection of clarity
the shredding of scar tissue
that has peeled and produced
the parts that have induced
a faithful find for
every time

it's in the start of every end
i feel the stretch in each bend
the shaping of my muscle
the ache of every hustle
the wanting more
that pushes to the cliff
just enough to withdraw 
rethink the "what if"
every time
counting my blessings
by the dime

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

COVID-19 (revised)

-
Schools closed  everywhere Houses  fenced in Events  shut down Stores running  out Out of breath Breath soaking  soap People  masking up Doctors  scrubbing down Patients impatiently  waiting Waiting with prayers Prayers tightly  locking Time breaking loose Budgets cramping under Families over staying The bats have been freed The butterflies are now lost
Read more

The Word Doc. (revised)

-
Image
Cutting & pasting efforts nothing black ink can't fix. Fancy fonts tango across the screen looking pretty while substantial ideas are hidden right behind. Mistakes come & go freely, as ones do in a deli the undo button reverses all things carelessly. Words are displaced, scattered everywhere taken control over every sitting & standing. Lines & paragraphs are broken up, rearranged no questions allowed, no comments welcomed. It's one document, a word document & the irony rocks me no one ever speaks of it - The lack of noise & protest belonging to groups of words which gather to serve another. They gather not from their own will but from the one coercing them to wake & work for a tyrant, a tycoon.
Read more

A Sweet Villanelle (revised)

-
There's nothing like the home I once knew. A child rolling in sugar and sunshine swinging back and forth, through air so sweet. Waking to sing with morning birds each day anew, to loud growth and silent beauty, pure and fine. There's nothing like the home I once knew. Long, luscious pony tails and pony dolls too Playing, brushing each strand of theirs and mine, combing back and forth, through strands so sweet. Fun fashion choices follow me through late wedding nights, dresses of colored wine. There's no place like the home I once knew. Daddy picking me up under a dome of blue, Mommy hugging me down in bed at nine. Swinging back and forth, through days so sweet.  Looking to my sister with eyes open and true, flashbacks wait for a greeting, patiently in line. There's nothing like the home I once knew, swinging back and forth, through life so sweet.
Read more