my right arm under there…
her left leg over there…
Under… then through…
I’m tangled with you.
eyes sparkling with mischief
Above me one moment
Below me the next
A new game with her…
We found the old game of twister…
this fun should not be missed
to the rules we added…
barely a twist…
If I sent you a flower,
Would you keep it for an hour,
And then toss it in the trash ‘cause
Or would you maintain its safety,
And place it by the window safely,
So the sunlight hits the vase to
Keep it warm?
If I gave you a bracelet,
Would you tell me that you hate it,
And then storm of screaming in
A fit of rage?
I’m kept warm by a bottle,
While I read you like a novel,
And I’ll bend the pages back to,
I just miss the winter,
When our plans seemed so much bigger,
And we exchanged our thoughts at night
Beside the fire.
So please stay if you want to,
I don’t have the right to stop you,
So when winter’s chill has got me ill
I’ll just go back to my blanket.
I have decided to split my main blog: Lilian’s Looking Glass, from my poetry in order to properly divide the two. This is so that people who choose to ‘follow’ can follow either my ramblings or specifically poetry (or both!). This is also to try and give me some motivation to write more poetry, more regularly and hopefully improve!
Tom put on his red shirt and dusted every dusty knob
down the row of offices on the third floor
from his knees.
Lisa put on her orange shirt and embroidered the words
“Cock_Stench” into her cooking apron
like her twitter hero, @Dril
Mr. Brokoff, wearing his yellow shirt, startled a crowd announcing
that the sliver in his foot was rooted and would be growing into a tree;
he felt it was unethical to pull it out.
Leeland wore a green shirt when he bent down to taste the sewer water
running out of suicide ideas and burning his curiosity away
like erosion on a mountain.
Jelli was wearing a blue shirt when she grabbed her megaphone and
threw it into her girlfriend’s window enough times
to create some serious cracks.
Mrs. Robinson wore an indigo corset and spent
six dollars on the quarter machines at pizza hut
trying to get the plastic spider ring.
Vince wears a violet shirt everyday which is fine because
he booked the band that no one had ever heard of and
they ended up drawing a decent audience, capitalism.
They all put their rings together and summoned Captain Planet.
Mrs. Robinson’s ears started bleeding from attempting magic
with plastic from a quarter machine.
An ambulance was called.
A Spider lives inside my head
Who weaves a strange and wondrous web
Of silken threads and silver strings
To catch all sorts of flying things,
Like crumbs of thoughts and bits of smiles
And specks of dried-up tears,
And dust of dreams that catch and cling
For years and years and years … .
— Shel Silverstein