Poetically fluent

My little poetry corner, shared with the world

Weed, Wine and Heart Break 02/02/2011

 

The night before,

you told her stories and watched her roll a perfect joint,

she was so determined to get it right you couldn’t tell if she was listening.

 

She poured herself a glass of wine,

half an hour later, she poured another.

 

You watched her wipe the spilled wine off her chest,

she knew you were looking.

Clumsy girl.

 

Buzzed and stoned,

you question,

if she’s the kind of girl you’d take home.

 

   Don’t pretend your heart wont ache when she’s gone,

she makes you laugh.

 

Leave the breaking up for the weed

The wine glass is still half full.

 

She heard every word you said that night

 

 

 

Bag Lady 03/30/2010

Filed under: Bag Lady,Poems by yours truly — Dileiny @ 17:05
Tags: , , ,

 

Her nose wrinkles when she smiles,

her black eyes watch your tired face,

lips as soft as organic cotton,

she murmurs used words,

“I love you.”

 

There was a time before her smile lit up your eyes,

there was a time before you.

 

All the things that got her to this point

she carries them with her.

Look at the marks on her hands, the load is that heavy.

 

Tired of pulling, she smiles,

and asks, “Don’t you love me back?”

And you tell her that you do.

 

Tell her that you wish she’d

leave the bags behind,

that the existence of her past is

not enough to love her entirely.

 

Tell her that her smile is not enough.

 

 

Seperation of Heart and Mind 03/12/2010

 

Neck is on the line and the time is ticking,

 

A White Rabbit nervously looks at his watch,

 

How did I fall down this hole?

 

“Off with her head!”

 

Numb,

 

breath is sluggish.

 

It’s a new day in Wonderland.

 

 

 

Mourning 02/19/2010

Filed under: Mourning,Poems by yours truly — Dileiny @ 21:12
Tags: ,

There is a residue of bliss and catastrophe,

remnants of passion,

of sorrow,

 of fear.

 Hopelessness fills my core.

 

The past fractures tomorrow.

 

In the midst of chaos,

disorder became pleasurable.

Toxic to my being.

   

I died last night in my own private war.

And nobody knows it but me.

Today I grieve

unaccompanied

dressed in all black.