Poetry Posts: Week 4

Lidded eyes
They feel like weights.
Am I surprised,
I stayed up too late?


A memory is but a breath
That lingers in the mind;
It can taste foul
Or sweet
But it only stays
As long as it’s welcome,
Often retreating back
To its well-stocked home
Of nostalgia
Or hurt.


First Snowfall

I. Journey
You came dancing
Like a graceful ballerina;
Dodging, swaying –
As you made your way
Down the stage.
All dressed in white,
Smelling crisply of
Fresh air and pine,
You didn’t stop until
Your crystalline
Wardrobe settled
Like heavy dust
Upon the ground.

II. Friends
At last,” – you sighed,
Tired of your journey,
But then you
Rested and awaited
The arrival of your
Friends –
Two are better than one”
Your first friend said,
“And three are better
than two!” –
said another.

III. Mounds
By the end of the
Production, you
Accumulated into
A giant mound
Of breathless dancers,
All ready to stay put
In your pure heap of
White, unwilling,
Unyielding, and
Your welcome.


Love is Blue
“Alissa, I’m so
deeply in love with
who me?
Yes, you!”
– and when I feel
like I don’t believe it?
I can tell you until
I’m blue in the face”

Is it cliché to say
you make me feel
like home? Or that
your hugs are
sometimes what
it takes to bring
me back to reality?

I like you &
you like me,
perhaps we should
get married.

I know when we embrace
It inevitably leads
To us dancing
Like fools,
And I
Wouldn’t change
A thing.


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