Poems · writing

Rivulet Fever

Dig at the scab
Watch the blood
Readied in its chamber
Before
Spilling out
Red-hot bullets

Beauty soft and sharp
Needle-edged kiss
We show our fangs
Weak-kneed by blood lust
You tear into me

A hunger lost
In the dizzying pollen
The oils of your skin
A sweet honey
You cave to the taste

While I become alone again
Drowning in the effervescent musk
Twilight lost in the bleeding dusk
I've lost the metaphor,
The melody
Carries on.
Poems · writing

A Letter to Ma Mei

It doesn’t make sense that you’re gone.

Some days it feels like I could still reach you if I tried.

Your name is still in my phone

Did it used to be that easy?

You’ve always believed in me so completely.

I promised we’d watch Cinderella again;

Was I really so busy?

Was anything I had to do better than spending time with you?

You were the safest place I had.

I know you wouldn’t want me to cry but you’d still make it feel alright to do so.


This isn’t even a poem anymore I just miss you.

I don’t understand.

I would go to those fuckin creepy nursing homes that you loved so much just to sing with you again.

My thoughts keep colliding with the fact that you’re gone.

How is it possible?

No new memories to share.

No new stories to tell.

No phone calls to ask how I’m (and everyone else) is doing.

Your name is still in my phone.

How can you really be gone?

I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied with the answer.

writing

An End to The Means

I apologize in advance for the mess you’re about to read, I just watched a movie where the dialogue/thought processes of the characters were similar to this, a sort of ongoing never-ending cacophony of words. Sort of dreamlike where you start somewhere without knowing how, and end up somewhere else without trying to.

So afterwards my thoughts were following a similar pattern and that’s kind of how I’d like you to read it. (Or not that’s totally up to you)

I was going to post it without any kind of explanation, but I wanted you to know what you were getting into. A true word-vomit of a pseudo-intellectual run-on sentence fueled by memories and fears and whatever else was going on when I blacked out and wrote this.

Enjoy. (You probably won’t I don’t think any of this will relate to anyone except me lol)


Where do you stop and where do you end and how does anything even begin if you’re waiting waiting waiting

I come to the conclusion that this was all madness and a mistake and we got to but that was your ending not mine you act like you have a right to choose when I had no say in the matter it’s a choose your own adventure which should be something mutual you decide hey let’s go to page eleven not I’ve read ahead and this is where it’s supposed to end-this is where we go and drag me along to whatever future therapist appointment you put me through and there again I see a face your face in everything and everyone and I need to live in the present but what is the present anyway standing half naked in the bathroom fallacies running running in a head that’s turning towards nothing but guesses and wishes and fears

Suddenly the kitten is the cat and the child is the woman and oh she has so much to bear how can she know it all now when she has an encyclopedia written in Spanish French Japanese and she never took her studies seriously so what’s to learn where to go

A poet and that’s all a lover and that’s all a person and that’s all nothing more just friends just hiding behind things no one wants to say or feel or judge to be true if there’s anything to judge at all I would blame you for lying and what is that anyway but a sorry excuse to be blameless when no one can be

You put on a sweater and tell me run on poetry is meaningless coming from a mind half jumbled with numb thoughts of disaster of hope of certainty dashed by someone else’s fears delusions surviving on conditional love a tired old speech falling on tired old ears that never listened when they could deny deny deny any attachment any abandonment any admissions at all

Lying for the sake of it a mother ambassador cell warden general hopped up on concern dished out in quiet mumblings a beseeching of truths too dishonest to matter a frog in hot water doesn’t realize the lies its mother tells until they become its own

A speech from lips shadowed by another’s and who could go on anyway scrounging after love after acceptance after peace after misery after missing love connection home it’s winter and there’s no one to come home to

Not the right kind not the permanent kind always fluctuating nebulous none committal cyclical hypocrisy But that’s just it then toothpaste on the counter never a lover chirping to the sound of diligent waves and a love without conditions was too foreign to calm could not be enough

Figure it out a purring sense of broken edges bent into places you never said you’d take me

The trance is gone.

Poems · writing

Possibly Everything

Cleaning up corpses on the freeway,
Bloody spatter for miss November.
Moving on from Hollywood.
We’ve missed November, I’ll start when it’s over
And over it’s been in my mind again.

So it goes, lost in the wind.

Circling back, dropping the pin,
In a room too full to notice it’s ran out of gin.
Startled into recompense;
Turning it over til it all makes sense.
November was missed and I’ll start again,
Buckling under the rain.

So it goes, running thin.

You’ve grown too fat, you’ve gotten too short, the mind scolds the broken heart.
She’s working around it but nobody notices the note left out in the bin.

So it goes,
Missing November,
She found it hard to remember,
Her way back into life again.

So it goes.
Don’t stop me.

This one was kind of a mish-mash of ideas on my drive home late at night, hence the sort of jarringly different stanzas as the tone of it changed once I got home to work on it.

I tried adding little transitions between stanzas as a way to make it flow a little better. Not sure how well it worked but I liked it enough to publish it, so.

Thank you for reading!

-T.D.P.

Poems · writing

The Hazards

I want you to know that I’m trying to hate you.

To put every little thing you’ve done into a box and throw it into the river that made you realize you still loved me.

Let it sink to the bottom along with your near-death and dissolve into spent memories settling into the sediment.

Sway and move with the current.

Lost love,

Lost time,

William and Margaret,

A watery marriage bed,

Left to drown under the force of a Mother’s love.

But I pulled you and I called you here,

And now instead of saying goodnight, I’ve finally found the breath to say goodbye.

Poems · writing

An In N Out Dreary

In memory you are lost

As I second guess the cost

Of sickness spreading faster

Unmitigated disaster


Dwelling on those winter days

Brand new love a dizzy haze

Walking far into the night

Knowing we were quite the sight


In the timepiece of my heart

Hoping something new will start

Waiting til the stars align

For you again to be mine

Poems · writing

Talking to Myself

By the end of Sisyphus Part 4 I didn’t know who I was anymore

Ageless and nameless I melt in the rain

You’re doubting me, timing me,

Daring me to get up again

And is it any wonder when I do?

Do these failings still come as a surprise to you?

In a minute I’m busy.

Some thoughts they surround me

I’m barreling through the rain:

Waiting to be caught.

Wilting under and then growing into the pain

I’m finding you;

I’ll be home soon.

Look for me sighing,

Somewhere under the moon

Poems · writing

Lover’s Descent

Orpheus, I’ve often wondered, why did you look if you knew your love was behind you?

But time and distance, silence and pain are enemies of love.

You feared she was gone.

I understand now. That longing, burning sensation of loss. You won’t know if you’ve made it until you see the light, or turn around and watch your life taken away.

Small mistakes tumbling down and piling up

Unfortunate lies soon discovered bury us under their once insignificant weight

Where were we living that we were so free?

What ever gave us the idea of exception from pain?

A child’s naivety

A Romantic heart

We’re torn apart

I do miss you.


I forgot to post yesterday! That’s my April Fool’s prank, I suppose. This is one from a couple months ago

Poems · writing

Out Of Line

Frost bitten, love ridden

Cracked and bitter lips frame one of those smiles that keep you up at night sometimes

My coat does nothing to keep out the cold.

In this quiet kind of sadness,

I’m missing those warmer months.

A trapeze.


A shorter one from a couple months ago

Poems · writing

Nefelibata

Last night I dreamt of you again 

We met in the place where this first began

When we left people behind in favor of each other

Inconsiderate now, but we couldn’t think of another 

Options are hard to find when you’re too in love for peace of mind.

I met you in that place and you didn’t disappear

You pulled me close,

I breathed you in,

The whole world seemed to resume its spin

I cannot tell you the vividness of this dream.

Lifting my chin, you said to me,“When all is too much to bear, you can come and find me here. It will not go away, but you can stay, and I promise not to disappear.”

As you whispered this to me, your body acquired a kind of translucency.

Still I held onto you, as I so often do, when we’re hidden away from the world. 

Waking up as you disappeared,

I knew you were still far from here.

But, still drunk on the remnants of that vision,

Something about it left me shaken

Can spirits collide in the dead of night? 

Did I really see you there before we said goodbye?

As the morning brightened, sharpened my mind,

I left those fantasies behind

There’s something to say, though, about finally coming home,

Even if just for a little while