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Literature Text
Rapunzel in the tower;
Sleeping Beauty at the loom;
Snow White slumbers in a casket;
Girls spin gold in locked up rooms.
Cinderella in the ashes—
O! These stories oft they tell:
How Eurydice's at the mercy
Of a man singing in hell.
Sleeping Beauty at the loom;
Snow White slumbers in a casket;
Girls spin gold in locked up rooms.
Cinderella in the ashes—
O! These stories oft they tell:
How Eurydice's at the mercy
Of a man singing in hell.
Literature
Lullaby
"I've been waiting my entire life to tell you that I'm dying and I figured I'd finally get it over with.
So here I am, carving forgive me
into my teeth, so every time that I speak
I can still say that I'm sorry.
More years have passed in the last than I care to remember
but I could never forget:
In eighth grade my chorus teacher always told me,
'Michael, you'll never be good enough.'
and it always excited me. It reminded me of my mother.
On the last day of school she smiled,
her teeth jagged like a train wreck,
she didn't say a word,
but I knew exactly what she meant.
In high school I fell in love with a roadside bomb waiting to be deton
Literature
THAT POEM (Writer's Block)
I sat down at my computer last Thursday night
with the full intention of writing THAT POEM. Oh, don't
play dumb. You know what THAT POEM is. We all know
what THAT POEM is. You with the cigarette train-tracks
charting your eternal drift to nowhere
on the insides of your arms, you
with the sludge of alcohol dripping thick & brown through
veins swollen & slow & pussy as zombies, you
with the eight children whose faces you can't remember
& the husband in the Hamptons whose name you sometimes forget
& the lover who never seems to come around as much as you pay him to – you
all know what THAT POEM
is. It's the rhythm beating a dull
Literature
the things they should have told us
see, no one really warns us about growing up.
they leave out things like heartbreak and gossip and broken people you could have saved but didn't.
it is this: the girl who holds her wrists and sits alone and tells me no child should ever grow up being afraid of someone who should love them. Her eyes are fierce, and something inside me is screaming but the clock ticks and the moment is past. i pretend i can't hear the pieces of her shatter as they hit the floor.
the next time we speak there are new shadows beneath her eyes and her shoulders hunch as if somehow she could fold into herself and disappear. maybe it would be better for us both if
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Fairy tales and mythology are two of my favourite subjects to write about. And with this little rhyming... thing, I managed to combine them! <3 But I want to write another piece, along the same lines but at least five times longer. I'm ambivalent about short poetry, >.>
Comments11
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Beautiful ... just beautiful how the words weave and flow together. [sighs] I envy this kind of talent. 