Sta.sh
I should be back on top of everything tomorrow evening! 160+ things to go through. Hoo boy.
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Let Me Down Gently I never said I was an angel,Let Me Down Gently by *callerofcrows
rather,
I'm a feather on its wing,
so when you let me drift
on the next western current,
let me fall slowly down,
d
r
i
f
t
i
n
g.
I promise I'll land softly,
though you will not find me
where you left me.
Quilted I press my back into youQuilted by *callerofcrows
and it feels like dreaming.
I am sprawling,
a human starfish succumbing to late-spring fever,
admiring the haze of May
from behind curtains parted,
gently flowing.
You bear witness, you hold me.
I rid you of tear-stains,
you smell like lavender grace
and everything pertaining
to a lazy summer's nap.
My crucifix is a counterpane,
spread-eagled, let me lay here.
Family Portrait I am my father's daughter.Family Portrait by *callerofcrows
At the age of four a crawfish
stole the pizza-crust bait
from my homemade fishing pole
and how proud were you when
I declared I caught a lobster.
That same summer
we meditated upon fairytale reality,
and it brought me fame later
when your temples were grayer.
I am my mother's daughter.
At the age of four I called you a goat-butt
and cried because I loved you.
I swore I'd never teach because you did it,
so naturally I'm learning how.
I swore I'd never learn sign language,
but I've taken one class and loved it.
Fourteen summers later
we meditated on that strange duality
and it brought me fame
Empty Gardens It was a wine-petaled pansyEmpty Gardens by *callerofcrows
that my mother pruned from the garden box;
it reminded me
that I had blossomed late and wilted.
At fourteen I created pansy petals of my own,
waking up with hot-fisted cramps
and the proof I was a woman.
I was not a rose, perennial,
as I went from blooming monthly
to not at all.
I would rather spend a day
curled up like the fetus I may never carry
than flat on my back wondering
why God allowed worse women than me
to bear children.
The Siege I want my every breath to turn to fire,The Siege by *callerofcrows
to melt away the ice with which I've built.
I've made a mighty castle of my ire,
so strong and resolute, though laced with guilt.
My rampart walls, they glitter clean and bright;
it almost breaks my lonely heart to know
that though I walked those battlements last night
I need to tear them down to let things go.
See how I've changed from knight to dragon bold,
attacking walls that used to hold me in.
I spew my flames and watch them kill the cold,
that glacial fortress spawned by my chagrin.
Although I've fought as hard as e're I could,
Although each barricade I built is wrent,
The center of
Can't Be Too Careful CharactersCan't Be Too Careful by *callerofcrows
Mary: A frail, nervous woman in her mid 30's who has become overly afraid and cautious since her husband's death.
Ellen: A friend of Mary's, mid 30's. Her friendship with Mary has suffered greatly, and she has little to no patience for Mary's paranoia.
Clara: Mary's other friend, mid 30's. Kind and supportive, but has her limits.
Thomas: Clara's son, about 10 yrs. old.
Setting:
The kitchen of a small house in 1956, as well as an abandoned house across the street.
(Lights come up stage L. on a table and three chairs. CLARA and ELLEN are seated. ELLEN gets up and checks out the window)
CLARA: Do you see her yet?
ELLEN:
bricks and broken building blocks. i'm renovating.bricks and broken building blocks. by ~otakuplaywright
that's what i'll say.
when people ask me
why my personality's
changed, why're you
acting like this?
i'm renovating.
i'm reconstructing
a soul razed by
the wrecking ball of
YOUNG LOVE, now
level with the ground,
and a majority of the
stuff under it.
i'm rebuilding,
cement over a base
that was stripped of
its strength and dignity
a foundation cracked
and DESTROYED because
purity apparently isn't
the best to build a
relationship on, or at
least a relationship now.
that's what i'll tell them.
i'm renovating.
i'm adding on a
shelter, not for
bombings, just an
asylum where i can lay
my head at night
Feeding Daisies Your name came up again today.Feeding Daisies by *Jaybird101
It lingered in the air
just as you did;
dangling in the garage
from the rafters.
I suppose I could've said,
don't do it.
I've always had little tolerance
for such things.
Perhaps I lack compassion,
understanding.
Or maybe,
I'm just a heartless son of a bitch.
Fact is,
I've fought too hard in this life
to ever consider throwing it away.
You won't catch me feeding daisies before its time.
I will not lie down and die.
Instead,
I will fight and persevere
with fierce determination.
I will spit blood
in the face of those who will kick me down.
I will stand tall,
as should you.
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I should be back on top of everything tomorrow evening! 160+ things to go through. Hoo boy.
I started really writing poetry my senior year of high school. I had an amazing Creative Writing teacher...under her instruction, I became a Scholastic Gold Key poet, and was invited to read alongside Taylor Mali at the Sunken Garden Poetry festival. Now I go to UVM and study Elementary Education, but still write on the side. Vermont provides plenty of inspiration. 
DonateI'd really love to give out another premium membership to someone I think could really benefit from it! Who knows? It could be you!  I will write a poem on a subject of your choosing should you donate! Any donation amount is appreciated, no matter how small. |
