specpo
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The static of his mindblew apart the EKG machine. I don’t know what languagefreedom, will be written in on his hospital release papers,or if they will ever be inked again. He was bouncing off the walls today,slamming pads, brick, doorways, and glass. Demons were in his bones, he saidhe was just trying to shake them
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Feed uswith AI slopand pink slime. Season us with America first rhetoric,ignore whispers of war crimes. Wash it down with dye-free soda popor gluten-free beer. Placate us with half redacted truths,never mind the fear. Broil us in another unwinnable war. Pacify outragewith Patriot Gamesso we never know the score. Add sexism, racism, ageism, ableism, and
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I felt faith fade from my soul,an echo soft like a whispered lightas Nightmare exacted her toll. I fit myself into a roleand fed off joy, as she fed off spite.I felt faith fade from my soul as I gave in to her control.Each word injured me, each sentence a fight,as Nightmare exacted her toll.
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The sun hides from view,what day is it anymore?Bloom quiet dusklight My branches slowly form limbs again, though tulipsstill grow from my hair. It’s then I hear thelantern light conversing withthe travel-worn tree. In one, the voice ismelody eager light, theother steady, warm. “She’s a long way fromhome,” the lantern says briskly,each word crisp cut
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Some of these may be duplicates of ones in other blog posts. Trying to do a clean up, but wanted to still keep them available to share and be seen. Best wishes 🤗 You may see me as a dumpster fireBut sometimes, that’s just howSupernovas are formed.— I cry when it rainsmy bones crackling with
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He glowed with secretsworn like armor, shielding whatuntold future lies____ I arranged myselfin pretty perfect patterns for you, did it work?___ I fold the whispersof sunset into my skirts,delight radiant. ___I revive my heart,only to cut more piecesoff, to give to you. ____Today I dreamed of copper skies, the line between fae and real world
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Old sort of stream-of-consciousness poetry from 2009. Enjoy 🤗 ___ Lost in West Coast Dreams the same four blank wallsCrack of Dawn phone calls,McDonald’s French Friesspirited drunken highsand drinking gamesaccompanied bythe nicknames,that beg to breakHer silence. curiously cold coffee andbountiful brownie breakfast,smoking in the kitchenmid-afternoonto the tuneof Eternity againstspit-shined countertops,happiness soughtbought at the corner shop.
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I make my way slowto the last elm tree, barrenon the cliffside coast. Treasuring the viewwaves crash, jolt sound, electricunderneath my skin. Committing endlesshorizons to memorysapphire dreamlight, pelican porpoise,pink shells shattered to powderfailure grasps meaning. Keeper’s last advicea din in my ears, “Bewareof the ice prince! Go to the Fae courtknowing, while you may yet
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Rogue sky, silk rippleseyes open to such wonders,to be alive now… I am the glade mindas I look upon sea-facedstranger, prism lit. His eyes captured myform uncovered languidlylaying at his feet A few winged fairiesfeigning modesty, hidingmy body’s valley. Knowing smiles gracehe knelt, white robe elegance in his hands for me. Speaking little morethan whispers,
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“Follow the spiritof freshwater streams safeto sanctuary prisms light the way,don’t stray too far from the banksoon, find home again.” Last words from the caveas I followed directionlit by sun and moons. Like spectacle gleamtwo moons peered behind the cloudsas I stream bound walked witness to the joyof Naiads at play, splashessound of chimes and
Poetry With Hart 