I want to eat your sparrow, come here. I want to lick your sparrow claws come here. I want to cut your sorrows out you’re hollowed out. Come here. I want to suck your fingers off. Come here. I want to give you your history back. Your fingers back. I want to tell you yes. Come back. I want to show you my pressure, my heavy, my opened and clothes, my under and o’s. Come here. I want to finger your bones back. I want to sew your bones back I want to re-blood your history. I want to undo you like a mystery novel. Is this the kitchen? The table-saw? Is this your memory? Your tree-dream? You’re declawed. I want to give you your teeth back. Your teeth marks. I want to spit back your teeth-pull. I want to unhinge your heart-jaws. Come here. I want to sit you down on the bed and give you back my years. Here. I breathed your name into the leaves. Here. I breathed you back into the trees. Here. This is your tree-dream this is your tree-house, this is a bedroom, this is a silver broom this is a shallow dream. This is my tree-dirt, my bee shirt. This is my honey-stalk and these are your climbing shoes. Harmonica me to sleep again. Put your sparrow on my back skin. -Kallie Falandays, "I Want To Tell You Yes"
i'm doing better than i ever have! and maybe i'm not doing well but
last year i wrote a poem about august and teeth, how the pavement
looked better from the roof of my house.
and i almost wrote the rest of this poem but instead i did my laundry and
sat at the table staring out into the sun-drenched backyard, peeled myself an orange.
along the way i guess i learned that i don't have to die to be reborn, learned how to tie a tourniquet.
sometimes a chrysalis is enough.
i think about butterflies instead of graveyards today, and my hands smell like oranges when i hang my favourite shirt out to dry.
who was i last year // charle l.
june finds me sitting by the riverside, teary-eyed & trying to count rocks, each smoothed over by cold water. & she doesn't ask me what's wrong but she runs a hand down my back, her yellow heat bleeding into dusk. the skin on my shoulders was peeling just a week ago. i wonder what i look like from the bridge: one body curled up in the reeds, hair soaking up the sun- i wonder if to the fish i'm wearing a halo of summer light. there's no holiness for me here,
baptizing myself in the water alone.
if you’re interested, i’m now hosting a podcast called oceanic hubris where i’m a disaster on main while telling you about my antics & how my writing journey is going. i’ll also be talking about how i improved as a writer & poet. so, the link is right there. i want to warn you though that i recorded this when i was suffering from post-nasal drip so i sound like gamecube frogger to overly nasal nancy and fluctuate between the two.
6thlovelanguage-deactivated2020
Callista Buchen, “Taking Care”
i guess there is light. somewhere, someone is holding light like it's a song and he is saying come here. come home. it's okay. and in some worlds i believe him and i take his hand and in some worlds i say i'm here. i'm home. i'm okay. and in some worlds he believes me and in other worlds i believe myself.
i thought there was a darkness in me that i could never let go of. i thought that i could never forgive myself. but there is a light and he tells me there is good in you. he takes me by the hand and he says there is good in you. there is good in me.
i'm okay. i'm okay. in some worlds i forgive myself and this may as well be one of them.
think salvation. think forgiveness. think aren't they the same? you don't remember the taste of either. you were always a hungry child.
you and your handfuls of sorrow. you and your handfuls of shadow. no one ever taught you how to love in a way that doesn't hurt. burn yourself to ashes and absolve your heart of everyone that has held you. leave them all behind and call it mercy. you're trailing darkness. you're turning from the light. can you forgive yourself? can you forgive yourself?
can you ever forgive yourself?
We are pleased to announce that submissions are now OPEN until December 31st, 11:59pm for Issue #6 of Anatolios Magazine! We accept submissions of prose, poetry, and visual art, including photography. Read our guidelines, then send us your best work. Please remember that this is a themed issue. Your submissions should, in some way, relate to our prompt — winter. Reblog this post to spread the word & encourage your friends to submit!
The submission deadline has been EXTENDED to January 31st, 2020! Spread the word and send in your work!
Anonymous asked:
First of all only two poems in and it is extrememly sexy thank you ily
thank you!!
i am halfway drowned in an impassable sky, and your name is syllables torrenting my lungs. darling, i am not kind, but i want to be kind for you. darling, i miss you when you are gone.
i want to offer you clementines, cleaved apart by my stained fingers.
in another world, i am six and opening carrion-pool cherries to extract their hearts, and you are at my shoulder, and the sky swallows us as through that is forgiveness.
in this world, i press my mouth to your forehead, and i cannot carry the flicker-scorch of your grief but i want to sing you songs. i want to recite love poems for you, drown and then wake for you, clasp your hands between my own and never let go. i want to sing you songs.
darling, daylight carves between us like a sickle. darling, it is day, and i want to peel fruit for you, and we are forgiven. darling, your name overflows in my throat.
for @streetsiding
the heat made me feel like doing something dangerous! august grew teeth and so did i, baring them in every direction
but the right one. i felt like doing something dangerous so i climbed up to the roof and fell back down and broke my old self on the sidewalk.
i used my teeth to chew off all my dead limbs even though i don't have new ones yet. every flower by the sidewalk withered under the sun and the concrete was unforgiving but i lay there and watched a brown leaf curl into itself until the sun went down
and i asked the sky if flowers ever take their own dead leaves off and the sky didn't answer.
the heat made me feel like doing something dangerous! august grew teeth and so did i, baring them in every direction
but the right one. i felt like doing something dangerous so i climbed up to the roof and fell back down and broke my old self on the sidewalk.
i used my teeth to chew off all my dead limbs even though i don't have new ones yet. every flower by the sidewalk withered under the sun and the concrete was unforgiving but i lay there and watched a brown leaf curl into itself until the sun went down
and i asked the sky if flowers ever take their own dead leaves off and the sky didn't answer.
