some new(ish) poetry & haiku

white ceramic teacup with saucer near two books above gray floral textile

Happy Saturday, dear reader!

I realize it’s been a while since I put any of my poetry and haiku up here, so I thought I’d share what I’m planning to read today for writers group.

Speaking of, if you’d like to join, reply to this post or message me. We meet digitally every other Saturday at 10am EST. All writers of all levels are welcome. There’s usually a prompt given, but some of us do our own thang. Hence this poetry.

As I’ve mentioned before, when poetry and haiku move through me, it’s usually in an attempt to mitigate my mental health. So these aren’t exactly enjoyable to write, but I do hope that you enjoy them as little snippets of neuroses.

april eyes
effulgent smile
everything changed when you opened the door

words whispered before dawn
landing in new ears
painting the void
with you

copper skin
glows in winter
blends with my hands
as i explore new parts

how lucky your lungs
that they get to be near to your heart
breathe deeply

purple orange sky woke while you slept
& i
wondered what i was doing

your whole essence sparkled
but nothing is more dead than a diamond

lavender bedsheets
stranded with halcyon hairs
held the summer smell

who can tell between tears sad & happy
either way
it’s all too much

rain’s first drop on chapped lips
more refreshing than
our hidden harbour kiss

all tears look the same in rain
dripping down past a mouth
without kisses

these are tears of lack
b r e a t h e
there are beautiful things
that aren’t those brown eyes

pen ran out of ink
but the pressure on the blank page says
i miss you

clearing mind of you
& father enters
scar on face throbs
eyes leak

never knew how to love him
don’t know how to love anyone
but i know
i know
the depth of love in me
just wants to get out
don’t want to resist

i’m so sorry
i can only imagine how your worst days felt
the despondency & detachment
the malaise & ennui
if they’re anything like mine …
did you feel like i do when all i want to do is help and there’s nothing i can do
did you feel
i wish i’d been able to be there for you

i hear your forgiveness in the rain dropping thru the open window
but i want punishment
wanted you to punish me
wanted you to show you cared enough to punish me
& not disregard me like something you didn’t understand
i guess we have that in common

i didn’t know how to ask you about yourself
& there’s still so much about you i don’t understand
why you stayed with a woman with a monster inside her
why you followed a god who would have smote me for my desires
what you did when you were at sea
i like the sea
we could have talked about that

& i hate that i inherited your taciturnity
coming across stuck up
or highfalutin
or maybe i do that myself by using SAT words in normal conversation
knowing words doesn’t make me smart
i spend more time cycling thru them than i do speaking

i called you wishy-washy as a child
standing near the kitchen door that led to the garage
the same spot where –
years later –
mother would hold me against the door
& wash out my mouth with soap & hot sauce
while you did nothing
(it’s no wonder i think so much before i speak)

i want to blame you
for you not raising me better
but i stop before any blame forms
i have your letter
i know you wanted to do better than your father
& blaming is being the victim
& that’s low-frequency

could i have even talked to you like that
or would i have had to frame everything around your faith
that these were impure thoughts sent by satan
& please father
help me pray to our father
who art in heaven
hollow is his name

can i blame the accident if i can’t blame you
were you just about to show me how to be a man
i was 15
the perfect age
but now i’m stuck without the maturity –
emotional or otherwise –
to understand anything

at least this pandemic didn’t get you –
speaking of
i should probably throw away these tear-soaked tissues
& wash my hands
of all this bad-vibing low-frequency bullshit
that does nothing to help or serve me

ps: don’t tell mom i used a swear

you taught me
to sing
to dance
to shame
to ignore the small child that speaks the truths we don’t want to hear
i remember telling you
you had a monster in you
what did you do with that
n o t h i n g

you taught me
to be kind
to care
to fold a fitted sheet
but not how to handle my fits
i found out how by exposing myself on the page
i hid behind the words
not realizing it was how i could be honest

you taught me
to guilt
to love conditionally
to lie
you were never interested in truth
only the stories you were telling yourself
maybe that’s why
you never ask about my writing
because it is the truth
maybe that’s why i never bring it up

you taught me
to foster my imagination
to tell stories
that being right was more important than being true
for far too long i’ve held on to that story
but now i can
l e t g o

it will mean nothing when we’re both gone
but maybe that’s just a story i’m telling myself

so i plug music into ears
& press so it vibrates against skull
& bass bounces down spine
trying to feel something –
love –
for anyone
who isn’t me
but then
everyone is me living a different experience at a different level of consciousness –
just reminds how easy it is
to lie & say it’s love
so is this real
or another lie
it is my experience so at least i know that &
– truth or lie –
it is mine
but music will never be loud enough –
water will never be hot enough –
to drown this out
so there are only two options
& it has to be acceptance
because i love myself too much –
despite all the ugly bits –
to think about the other option

lo siento
por favor perdoname
te amo

dried flowers with printed text
Be well, dear reader

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