Stranger sleeps next to me apologises for disturbing out of politeness rather than earnestness. "I have to go" (I wish he would, or shut up, if he could) but stays some more, finally ends up on hard stairs, asleep, alone.
You are my hazel eyes, a terror, rollerblade tremor, a younger selfish me. You have my last designs, my sister, teenager, kind sometimes, I see. You'll have my way of life, forecast the future, and please, take your time to me.
["Two wrongs don't make a right, but one wrong doesn't either..."]
Grassroots, mud & boots, gloves & green. I've never been a great escaper, troubadour failure, but never fail to love the trail beneath my shoes, sliding home.
A borrower, the silent kind; of optimism, & strength of mind. Not enough now, ever enough? You need to feel a touch of love untainted, true. I wish, for you.
A mercurial mind, I wonder, I search, I find, A drop suspended in airless atmosphere, the creature tended to the wounds and fear; assuage my mind, mercury find.
Falling into infinity enjoying the ride dealing in equanimity &chaos in fair kind A sentence imparted forever remains sign of what's started whatever entailed.
Your lips in flate and your heart palp it ates your mind is closed in survival mode nothing that matters nothing that stays you only see through a heavy haze...
A state of flux consistent, days, whole weeks, transient, and suddenly you've been gone forever, and your name no longer causes a tremor. Consistent flux permeates all our destinies and all our fates.
Choose a question choose a thought nothing to it 2000 words short organise tropes to say what you mean close your eyes and hope it was all it could have been.
Glitter covers cars, breath visible, layers hide scars, all's feasible in this land full of lies, at the right hand, she leans, she sighs, in torment tries to stand.
Higher echelon within your mind, she touches skin, creates inside a melodic song, wearing thin.
Collide, hope to glide, but hope is not enough, bumpy ride, but skin is tough, 'gravity and rust', growth and trust, a messy blur - or a blade of grass.
the first few poems will not match up with when they were written. until we are up to speed, the approximate date of authorship will be included below. in texts, titles don't matter, so the most you will have is an instruction in square brackets. the following is a perfect example of this.
[read in an american accent]
I am a bear in the snow in the trees sans leaves then I blink and I see your skin the pores your hair growing thin.
Once upon a time there was a girl who liked writing poetry.
One day, she wanted to share a short poem with a friend and did so in the quickest way she knew how; via a text message.
Immediately this created a tangible form that had to be followed by function. Character limit and the universal language of SMS with the line breaks and lack of font-freedom threatened to quash originality.
However, she persevered, and here today you can see some of those results. Her name is Rosie, and she would be glad to hear of your opinions and thoughts on her short poems. Maybe, if you send her an email with a phone number, you might get your very own one day.
I got a note:
~~~
Hi Moonrat,
I have a book deal with a lovely indie publisher. I don't have an agent.
*cowers and hides under table* I know you despise us...
• I’m Chato Mamet Treviño. I’m a Boston Terrier. I was born like 6 or 7
years ago. In October I think. I remember seeing a bunch of kids in
costumes. Woof!...