[x]

ropehang me from the moon,
i want to be beautiful

Send Me the Raintoday, they're all talking about the fires.
the people on TV, the voices on the radio,
the mouths that open and whisper
and softly touch tongues. even the sky is

revealing black plumes of smoke,
flaunting shameless and seductive curves.
the rain's been too dry and the lightning
isn't wet enough, panic is
rising out of control in this
burning city. that's

not all;
we have a crisis on
our hands- the balloons are
running out of air and even

the experts don't really know why,
and on top of those sinking rubber toys

my soul is losing moisture
faster than the crackling grass under the duress of flame.
i'm sta

blue and gold are not just colorsshe had been blue-sighted
since
dawn cracked her forehead.
it was the dress she wore on his funeral
the color of her school flag
the shine in her father's eyes;
she waited in blue and gold.

no, she refused to set a bar
because
life didn't just come to her.
she earned her place
in her mother's womb
when each blood vessel questioned her
each nerve ending, if she could live
and each antibody, if she was worth it.

see, she doesn't need new dresses.
she has a memory
for each of hers in her locked closet.
she may not wear all of them
(and most she cringes at the sight of)
but her heart
jumps enough
every time bits of her old

Change as CartographyChange as Cartography

My face is changing.
I feel it when pressing fingertips
Into my cheekbones
And where my bottom jaw
Meets the twice pierced ear.
It protrudes with clenched teeth –
In anger; in awe; in hiding tears in public.
The muscle comes and defines
The angle of my head when I tilt it.

The hair on my top lip darkens.
It gives the razor an excuse
To know my face.
The skin seems younger
Stretched across my skeleton,
It has now discovered my age:
I am twenty.
Each morning I shave
And note the growth.

I'm used to the stench
And the feel
Of disinfectant and bleach.
And bleach on my hands,
The scent clings hour

footprints some days you are absent,

and i sit waiting even if i know, that although
your bike is parked at the usual spot,
you'll be nowhere to be seen.

i never ask where you've been.

maybe you found a place where heartbeats sound
like autumn leaves swirling in the wind.

maybe you just couldn't face me.

and you wear silence like a wedding gown,
soft silk sewn together with a brutal honesty.

there is no going back.

(she threw her regrets off a mountain, memories
carving their way through the cold stone, slowly forming

a waterfall

and now she feels no thirst, only
a longing slowly drowning her.)

in the end, you had to

MelancholiaSoothe and subdue me,
overthrow the ferocity
that harrows me nightly,
and all through the day,
when I should be
happy with you.
Say you will slay
all of my fears
and the forces that drive me
always to tears,
or this intensity
will surely devour me.
You won't escape its teeth, dear,
because you love me so.
You stand by your woman,
even when the wind is blowin',
threatening to tear our house down.
And the colder the winter,
you just hold me tighter,
vowing nothing
will tear us asunder.
Golden-hearted you,
bravest of lovers,
have withstood all the tempests I bring,
but together we will drown,
stuck in its

Our CatalystNo sunset comes close
To the bruises we saw formed
In the night sky
Above an angry city.
As we watched from the window
We discussed those colours
Like the way we talked
About each other's eyes.

We sent secret messages
In the form of our poetry,
A sort of statement and response
About roses and accidental affection
That was harmful with our timing.
The more open the direction,
The closer we became.

Until on a Friday in March
We made love for the first time.
You cut my chest and my shoulder blades
With your nails
Leaving my tattoos wounded.
You bit my neck harder than those before you
And made me forget
The situation we we

preludesi.
blue rose into the city backdrop
like balloons, a million for the
morning sun prelude.

ii.
i've not slept a dream
but i have cried a salty face
and letters spilled like beans
into my moleskine,
almost as virgin as i once was
with few stories between my covers.

iii.
the kettle's belly boils
like my head upon a pillow.

iv.
i am guilty for rarely finishing my tea
even when i use the small mugs;
pour, rinse, repeat.

v.
perhaps today i will play dead.

vi.
perched behind my blinds
it dawns on me that i am surrounded
by walled neighbours, strangers,
they're just preludes to lovers
the way i am always
prelude to the one.

mosaics.sometimes unique
is not loud;
or bright, alive and raging,
possessed of a hunger for the atypical,
up front and too close,
or thrice-pierced and drenched
in the rebellions
particular to the latest generation.

sometimes it is a girl with
mouse brown hair and eyes
the color of weak tea,
who stands with her schoolbooks clutched
to her chest, in uniform shades of grey-blue
like the midmorning autumn sky

who has a wide mouth prone to nervous smiles,

pale lips and pale cheeks
and words that don't always come out
the way she means

who holds the universe
in the intricacies of her fingerprints
and laughs in treble clef notes
and u

CosmologyShe left galaxies on his pillowcase
where she slept the night before
of make up colors,
shimmer, shadow,
smudged and smeared,
blurred by silent tears
- alive...
the stars leaked out with the saline –
along with the residue of dreams
that she never meant to have.
Chips of polish decorate his bed sheets,
rogue satellites
from her chewed and broken nails,
after scratching at the too-low ceiling
and his too-close back
while she slept fitfully,
searching desperately for space.

Scorpion"Show me your bones."

the atlas of her thighs quaked
as she misplaced her skin
in the backseat of his car.

"I'm a scorpion, you know-"

a messy promise
folded napkin-neat.

"Prove it."

& she smirked,
sure of her limbs,
her scars, & her teeth.

"I dare you to stake claim to this clavicle."

Alive Like Dirt-

Winter vanished, a dream
Minutes after having woken;
The imprint and the lines
Still crisscrossing the edges
Of thought, retreating at my
Touch. It was important.
           I think.
                      I thought.
Though, I've lost it now.
           Am reeling now.

I reached out, five distinct
Points forming a living symbol.
           A tool.
&

WanderlustI've been sleeping with my jeans on
and seatbelt unbuckled,
So I can leave early
before my regret wakes.

In the check-in, on the road,
I distract myself
Walk, go, leave
go further, leave again
I like my life
Oversimplified.

I never meant to break your
working-class heart
(steady and warm)
But truer ways of joy I found
on the road,
in long railways and stranger tongues
And I'm sorry that we never
Quite catch up with each other.

I never loved goodbyes,
but I love leaving all behind
In the movement I found tranquility,
easing for this burn.

Don't think I'll be able
To ever forget you, no

You're like Venus in th

MelpomeneHear her sing of sun-kissed,
heavy-lidded tragedies that roll
off her tongue as sweetly as
sugared violets and as naturally
as nightfall; but bruise the lungs
of those who breathe them in.

She is no poet's muse, but
these summer-drunk revellers
will never know better.

Before The Stars FadeThe world has grown smaller, more insignificant
Little men run about in the darkness, screaming their inanities
Quiet listening is abandoned in favor of shouting louder
over the top of one's neighbors

Dreams once soft and sweet have become meat for them
to tear apart and grind with their teeth, demanding recognition
But no one is ever fulfilled, untiringly grasping at shadows
The world shrinks a little more, and children grow up fast

I can hear the screaming and shouting from my bed, through
closed windows, all want to make their presence known
Seeing like a cat, hearing like a bat, I feel the need to go out and
shout with them, t

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ReligionI don't believe in romantic love
except
what the rain and stars share

Agape is Greek
for the way the trees
scratch at my window,
the moon's greeting

I believe the earth
is flat
and infinite
you can keep traveling forever
if you can forget things like
latitude, longitude,
Magellan and airplanes

I will win a Nobel prize someday
for my groundbreaking work
in the field of lust

I have confirmed it's existence
I have written proofs
hundreds of axioms long
on the subject

I don't believe in the sky
but I believe in the stars
I believe in the wind
as the screaming bedlam of
unrequited devotion

we shiver,
pull our coats close

Skinned Knees, Endless SummerPeanut butter tastes like
grade school in autumn

my grandfather's sweater smells
of cinnamon and is the exact shade
of a man staring down an ending

The sun's amnesia made us
forget the existence of winter
and we only understood years
in terms of birthday cake

we laughed at your little brother
when he got stuck in the toddler swing
at the park

we tore off the huge plastic leaves
on my grandmother's decorative tree
and pretended we were birds

funny how even though growing up
when you're that young
is a movie on fast-forward,
we were the ones
least aware of time,
least aware of the
slow-march countdown
to the final sunse

Inkand all of a sudden
I want a tattoo.

The spirit of ink has possessed me
call a priest,
I want it all.
I want stars and wings and leaves
and poems and maps

shy silence is gray and
happynervous

I want yours
all over my damn
body

The Limits of Written WordThe pen longs to spill out,
to begin the dance
but all the thoughts are floating
just out of reach.

Here!

Catch it in the net,
how it shines in the night,
a shimmering of redgold

Quick!

Into the bottle,
now dulled, losing life
by the second

We clip the wings
of that which flies

we lock away that
which we love

ink cannot imprison her fully
something vital has flown
and I am left with
little more than a husk

Cookerymy blender does not understand
smoothies
"Accept My Gift of Pineapple
Thou Foul Beast!"
this is a blood sacrifice
and she is sadly unreceptive

I begin the main course
I have cupboards full of words
See-Jane-Runs
quick brown foxes
I have half a mind (no, three-fourths of a mind)
to sauté them
into
the golden eggs
more difficult to crack
than I had thought they would be
(forge? My stove doesn't get
hot enough,
I think)

I will spice the adjectives with
madness
I will verb these nouns
throw in a voodoo doll or
tulips! Two! Lips!
Crack open a maraca
and sell you some rhythm

Oh you will love this
you will devour th

Ritual Sacrifices from the She WolfI hate her you said
she is awkward

you were licking off the disdain
from your dainty ringed fingers

"you've a lovely home miss...
may I address you by your real name?"

my husband you said,
will be here momentarily,
with a rub of the lamp

it's all ritual animal slaughters with you
(rabbits, pigs, giraffes)

oh god it's the lady or the tiger with you
always
(I wish I could keep both doors
shut, and you'd be both and neither;
Schrodinger's fanged kitten)

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Submitted: June 12, 2011
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[x]

I Mean to Get You Alone

by ~amy-derfer, Jun 12, 2011, 2:47:36 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

You have sharp
pulse-elevating teeth
the stuff I imagine heart attacks
are made of

I'm bent on selling you a handful of smiles
specifically crafted
to distract you from the fact that
I have almost nothing to say

and now you're steering this conversation
in a direction that suggests you've

forgotten that I
don't watch movies or do much of
anything but work which maybe

explains why one glass of wine gets me
wrapped around you
car to streetlight
crash style
mangled limbs
breeding curious onlookers and my insurance has
expired

you're leaning in and all I can think is
I don't have insurance

I Mean to Get You Aloneby ~amy-derfer

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I edited this a bit more, which is why I'm resubmitting it.

Daily Deviation

Given 2012-10-02

The title itself is enough to seduce you, and the impact of the writer's message drives home the idea that we have little time to love or build lasting relationships in modern day romance. I Mean to Get You Alone by ~amy-derfer ( Suggested by *xlntwtch and Featured by ^NicSwaner )

love 8 8

joy 2 2

~~wow 0 0~~

~~mad 0 0~~

~~sad 0 0~~

~~fear 0 0~~

~~neutral 0 0~~

`jade-pandora Nov 10, 2012

Your wonderful words are featured here: [link]

~amy-derfer Nov 10, 2012

thanks so much!

`jade-pandora Nov 12, 2012

Totally my pleasure, dear!

*Shannon-Sweeney Oct 9, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Featured [link]

~TheNascentBottleCap Oct 4, 2012

This is beautiful. I am officially inspired! You MUST give me tips.

~amy-derfer Oct 4, 2012

I could try haha... but it probably wouldn't have very good results.. honestly my brain just kinda upchucks on the paper.

(see how poetic I'm being??)

~MysticDarkness-XD Oct 7, 2012 Student Digital Artist

hahaha... okay that must be the funniest thing I've heard in a while lmao

~amy-derfer Oct 7, 2012

heck yeah! I should write a poem about it

~MysticDarkness-XD Oct 8, 2012 Student Digital Artist

omg yes that would be hilarious

~Sigma-Echo-Seven Oct 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Excellent use of enjambment, something I wish I was as good at. Well done!

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I Mean to Get You Alone

I Mean to Get You Aloneby ~amy-derfer

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