Sunday, April 02, 2017

National Poetry Month (1/30)

I am attempting 30/30 this month, thirty poems in thirty days, that I will be sharing here and on my 30/30 Blog. The last three years have been hard to unpack, so I am starting to reconcile my disappointment, and emotional duress and the words are forming. Most if not all of these attempts will be rough.

Here's the first one


noun vuh-tiss-uh-NAY-shun

1 : something foretold : prediction
2 : the act of prophesying

the worst
the best kind of lies
are told in the dark
sliding from whiskey soaked lips
slurring platitudes
like they have enough weight
to keep you
as you float above yourself
a sensation you will not remember
when dawn breaks
when the sun ignites
fumes of spent desire
as the forgetting begins
love recedes
falls back to lust
reclaiming the lonely it always was
even as it pretended
to be what it never

the bells ringing
missed intentions  
go unheard
a crashing
a siren singing songs
full of repressed shadows
hand over my mouth
no sound escapes
no utterance of anything solid
a fluttering thing
that holds your attention

holds it
as long as the glass is full
ice reflecting the hues of miscommunication
measured in proofs
in how much hope
you can hold between mutual distractions
when pleasure is so self-serving
it calls out its own name
hoards everything else
See these
these are the best ones
the lies that can only remember
who you are
once you’ve left
the only part
you did not ever think
you would lose again

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