Pretty Little

Category: Poetry

  • Cyclical Dynamics *

    Cyclical Dynamics *

    The beach is hot yet grey, under a forecast of tantalizing pressure. The wind pushes the waves hard enough to c r a c k. I wonder what happens when the rain meets the sand. Would you let me dissolve in your palmand carry me to your lips like water?…

  • 2nd Star to the Right

    2nd Star to the Right

    Oh, the cleverness of me! Stardust and fae surround with lustered gazes.Our feet upon lily pads, andflowers among my curly hair. Show me wherethe King and Queen of night resideand wonder-Could that be us? Take my cold palms,warm them with the intimacyof a waltz.Please, dance with meuntil the world ends!…

  • Altars

    Altars

    You remind me too much of God for me to love you anymore.  I walked to the cathedral where your name is scribed above the wooden door. The hinges groaned as I entered, and dust flew from the floorboards. The pews empty of memories and full of regrets. Even the…

  • Back Home to Me

    Back Home to Me

    Tonight, I found the way homeUnder fluorescent pulses of light.The streets are quiet up north sinceLincoln Park has fallen into sleep,And there it is… If I listen closely, I hear a whisper,Mutter something ‘bout love.A little lamb I once was,can’t see her past the veil of time. Not now that…

  • Clementine

    Clementine

    With golden rays between the tall may trees, Clear blue skies like ribbons and baby bows, You, love, await to be picked with a squeeze, Your pulp drips in my mouth waiting below.The sweet nectar was crafted by the gods, Oh! To be quenched by your rich plump center, Crafted…

  • Do You Still Love Me?

    Do You Still Love Me?

    No- But there is a girlwho still does. She is waiting on the second floor of a six-story dorm building, on the east side of campus, for you to arrive.10 minutes go by-she lights red wax candles androlls on cinnamon perfume.20 minutes go by-she starts losing hope you will ever show up, so, she shuffles tarot cardsfor answers, …

  • Forget Me Nots

    Forget Me Nots

    For Nonno, 2018 There is a flower that I know, And every day it grows and grows. It’s only native by the bay, Where the waters of age seem to play. The growth at first was slow, As the ground wasn’t ready and sowed. The topsoil was rich with wisdom and memories, Making the perfect spot to…

  • It’s Mother’s Day

    It’s Mother’s Day

    and there’s dead mamaslittered on the highway, with snapped necks and pregnant bellies. Their entrails paint I-79 with the hue of a pink cardamom, hooves still stretchingtoward the blinding tunnel of a headlight. Lost, beaten, forgotten, the mamas lay still like my mama. Frozen in time, I’ll pray for the…