Prosaic Poetry

Some haphazard writings I found floating
between my mind and the page:

Caffeinated Roses

Dried tears fall from my face
on to the wet pavement
wet from the years of agony
I don’t slip anymore

I used to fall  all of the time
Now my skin flakes off
melting before it hits the ground

My existence is fading
regressing into the earth
paper hearts always fail

Warm embraces fade
Skin falls apart
Life decomposes
Your signature kiss
falls below the roses.

Lined Mugs

 


Y2K Magic a Decade and a Half Late

Computer aged graphics
Entry level experience
Ball games in my backyard
Savory citrus
Remember to water the pixels
The resolution depends on it
Purple-blue lights fit tight like a skin
Your breath comes out marigold
Strokes of a brush fall on the keys
Democratic chat rooms
and dried up ink basins
The page is never real
The characters a set of algorithms
What is my user name?


A unidentifiable identity

My tear-stricken grief rolled
down the crumbled leaves of my past:

I am no one.

How can you remember who I am
if I don’t know how to tell you,
I don’t know the words.

My lips burn with loneliness.
The silence, my resolve to the expansive distance I created
between us 

Longing, no longer enough. 
Whose feelings are these?

I left them out to dry for an eternity,
but they are drenched indefinitely in my love for you. 

 

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