i. rivers are stronger than oceans despite their size
they tumble through sharp mountains
but they never, ever stop
ii. i can rush and pick up sediments
and disperse them where i wish
iii. i'm lying -
i knew you saw it anyway,
there's seaweed in my fingernails
and salt on my breath
the titan of equanimity (floating) by chromeantennae, literature
Literature
the titan of equanimity (floating)
my favorite four-letter word
burst from my throat
like water from broken pipes.
an ongoing stream
of it, over and over,
over and over,
and over and over
again.
a moment of weakness
withering away from
my car door,
she is my moment
of weakness.
catching me
floating, like
a leaf on an ocean.
my feet and my arms
swimming in the atmosphere,
swimming in the moment here,
how can i capture
her from here?
how can i tackle
the colossus
of my thoughts?
lovely timbre of hands,
graceful stanzas,
and words like
the world takes notice.
i’m only at the eyes,
only the corners and how
objects are caressed
in space.
placement of angles,
the emanation of self
and effacement of
all other motion.
soft, subtle glow
of warm lips upturned
as the image burns
into welcome ache.
there is poetry in brutal efficiency, an art to torment and death.
i swore an oath, in years long gone by,
to carve scars in the skin of the world-
to make them bleed for what they have done to you.
tell me who you wish to kill, and i will eat their hearts.
hammocks, hikes, hands, hues (of you). by chromeantennae, literature
Literature
hammocks, hikes, hands, hues (of you).
dreaming of hammocks
and hikes, hand-holding
and your hips pressed
against mine,
i am dreaming.
i am dreaming.
dreams floating,
sleepwalking into
this domain
that is so strange
and so new,
but so you.
hold my hand
into the forest
where you are king,
where i am foreign.
lead us into this space,
and let us dream.
a quiet testimony
to lie awake
in this lucid place,
where we control this,
finally hold this.
a place where my
reveries are delighted
by your face.
my dreams have missed
this place. and they've
missed you.
anxiety looms
while i am nude in my bed,
ruminations of you stuck
in my cagey head.
"what do you want me to be"
in a voice lilt instead--
i don't know about you,
but i think i wish i was dead.
a childhood cadence
falls back on mine,
how could i ask you back
in this strange of a time?
but you're the keep-coming-back-to
-kind-of-person i can't ignore,
the human i miss most,
when your form walked out the door.
but your silhouette always teased
around the frame,
if you listen closely, you can hear my pleas
around your name.
/eins/
i won't forget lips,
nor tears
nor everything else
that had You on my cheeks,
but i'll do my best.
(because love,
you're the howling in woods of lunacy)
/zwei/
i will forget your astrology talks,
how you explained my whole self
just through stargazer's midnights,
and the tiny fear in the eye
when you realized that i have a Pluto in the 12th house:
the best paintings are never painted,
and some words decompose better in saliva
than in brain.
/drei/
i won't forget
those endless lines of fruit of having a lot to say:
doubts and thoughts,
pseudonyms and asterisk-less cuss words:
because it was the only friend i needed,
and yet i neve