Sunday, April 28, 2013

Sunday Morning Poetry: excerpts from...

For the longest time, I posted some of my favorite poetry on Sunday mornings (archives here), but I stopped because it started feeling like a chore, and well... no thanks. But I recently stumbled across an awesome poetry tumblr-- below are just a few of my recent favorites.


It starts with your breathing.
Everybody’s lungs are heavy with something-
mine; half tar, half hope.
We carry our own life belts
inside our ribs.
I saw you in my dream and life started that next morning
and it starts walking home in the rain
under stars that hold no solace
and it starts with fear and
it starts with the tonic chord.
I can’t tell you how it ends but
it will have been worth it.

Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water.
And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes
you cannot even breathe deeply, and
the night sky is no home, and
you have cried yourself to sleep enough times
that you are down to your last two percent, but
nothing is infinite,
not even loss.
You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day
you are going to find yourself again.  

Peaceful eyes and falling, rain-kissed hands;
silence, for all of its terror, is kind.
Inhaling old truths over our morning coffee,
you look up to the empty clouds shuffling by
and I look at you as if you are the sky.

No more pauses for a breath
you are never brave enough to take,
no more waiting for a train
that always brings you back to the very same place.
No more settling.
Start walking, start running, start burning.
No more lying down with the lies that bind your chest
and call their shackles safety.
No more watching the clock and waiting for the dawn to call you up,
be afraid.
The heart, you know, is a literal fist of blood
and I can’t think of anything stronger than that.
Be afraid,
until the only thing we have to lose is time.


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