Another Sigh While In Agony

I will walk
Fresh geysers will pop at my footsteps
There will be no laughter
I earned me some silence
One day people walk in on your birth
And the other they want to point at you
While you’re walking in your birthday suit
Just walk,
walk,
walk
You earned you some silence.

This is the second part to this poem.

Posted in Poetry by minademian

I Miss You

I don’t see you anymore
My wounds have no balm
My ears hear only my words
Come back
And spare me the agony
of walking to your grave

The Creases

The creases in my hands
number the string of nights
in wait over her response

Head now lifted up
there is a sun in the sky

This day of days
Is a torch amongst faint candles

Sunk Out of Sight

My North and South poles have sunk out of sight

I’m floating and drifting and veering

Due North, the inescapable abyss where I wept alone

Due South, a wake where my slain love slept on her own

Clouds feather my feet

Water whisks my hair

In my eyes, the last soil kept

My North and South poles have found love,

They have sunk out of sight.

The Night the Storm Came

The night the storm came
We were not prepared
The sails were fortified
and the timbre treated
But the storm came
and it blew you into my arms
Your every kiss crashed down on me
but your face hidden
your gaze locked away

I stood steadfast
feet dug into the sea floor
accepting every wave
like this is my trade
I wrapped my hands around your face
but your face hidden
your gaze locked away

Warmth rising from the broken planks
As I laid my hands on your flesh
The blood in my limbs still alert
I challenged yours with my nose
asking to see the face of the storm
but your face hidden
your gaze locked away.

Posted in Poetry by minademian

For My Country

When the anthem plays
I have to stop the harmony at the door
and ask myself if I should let it in
I have some pride and I get some chills
But people roll their eyes when I recite the oath
They point and question when I wear its glory

So, harmony, you look tired and worn
you are never allowed rest
Sleep at the door, this closed door
I’m not sure I should let you in.

This Place is Us

Come here, this place is fetal
There are no ruffles in these sheets
It’s a shelter built with my arms

I have kept and framed your smile
That made my resting swords clank together
because light crashed into this place

Your love is clove-shaped rubies
I will sew them into the window glass
Your love is paint cans
I will dab these walls with a silk brush
Your love is unending velvet cloth
I will vest the ceiling with it

Your love is thickening broth
To be stirred with my lashes
And when it’s cooked and piping hot
I will let it stain and scald me
so I am never free of you

This place is fetal, this place is us

 

I’m Late for Dull Weeds

I’m wandering in a market
All I need is some flowers
to prop up a dull dinner party

Here I lay in search
Amongst wreathes and bunches,
buckets and tape

By the squealing cougars,
There by the tape and ribbons,
Looking down into a mirror
The finest organic mirror

Stray strands off the top of her ears,
Like streaks of fancy in this whirring place
She looks up to work her trade
And I look into the framed painting

Her face is a bouquet of fresh flowers
Resting in them a pearl necklace
and the petals humming a lark’s melody

She hands me an autograph of her face
And I trot off, bespectacled with mist
Like having looked into a waterfall
To that dull dinner party

The Guilty Knife

Please open the window
I’m drenched and my nipples are burning
The banging will stop if you open the window
My last words will change your heart

They will mop up the ache
The lights are about to change
Please open the window
I faint when I see your tears

Please just open
I know you’re bleeding from the gut
And I’m carrying the guilty knife
I love you, I said, as I banged against the rain.