Actually it is a title. I needed this out of my system, I guess. So here we go.
I’m a girl
who
will settle
rather than
deal
with
conflict
you’ve seen my side with
bouncing legs, crazy
and serene-
you wrote that to
me on the outside
of my note
to you
and you’ve read
every
pleading
poem
they are addressed
and mailed to
you
you, who never
replied but to say a
kind word
what if I
wrote “I love you”?
I can’t imagine
how you
would respond
or even
us, anymore
I write this
so as
not
to confuse
to
you
you
you
(c) Caitlin C.
"Baby, remember on the bus and my hand was on your knee? When you love somebody it's hard to think about anything but to breathe. Baby, I am the cub who was washed out in the flood. When you love somebody and bite your tongue, all you get is a mouthful of blood."
~Fruit Bats
you know, trees probably do have rumps somewhere under there
This is about my best buddies from school. When (if) they read it, it'll make sense. Many inside jokes. Or just inside things that aren't very funny. You know what I mean.
a circle of
crossed legs and
binders against
chicken
nuggets
near afro men
to Ben & Jerry's
the
tree hugger-
who transposes Beatles
songs
conned by the Amish
a manic
blonde problem
child, by some definition-
hair resting on
my shoulder,
my sister
I never had
and
a rhyming girl,
who can’t conclude
rhythm and
misses lines
who still thinks
maybe things will work
when her flesh
her blood knows
it won’t
and they
tell
her
so
but in the end
laugh when the
wall hermit
pounds back
(c) Caitlin C.
ps- read the part about you-know-who (and I don't mean Voldemort) in the previous post!
a circle of
crossed legs and
binders against
chicken
nuggets
near afro men
to Ben & Jerry's
the
tree hugger-
who transposes Beatles
songs
conned by the Amish
a manic
blonde problem
child, by some definition-
hair resting on
my shoulder,
my sister
I never had
and
a rhyming girl,
who can’t conclude
rhythm and
misses lines
who still thinks
maybe things will work
when her flesh
her blood knows
it won’t
and they
tell
her
so
but in the end
laugh when the
wall hermit
pounds back
(c) Caitlin C.
ps- read the part about you-know-who (and I don't mean Voldemort) in the previous post!
either life has failed me or I’ve failed life
I'm not sure if I like this one yet... we'll see. There will be changes.
creeping
frictionless atoms
that stalk and walk around
strike hope
with Bukowski’s words of booze
and collapse
I
try to focus
a mind
made up
without success
meat eaters
need rides from
her, she stops
as she finds her
mocha- tainted-
and resolves to drink
the waste
life has not brought up
the topic of it’s
selfish divorce
it’s undermining mind
melting
deflation
but sometimes you just
know,
you’ve been built up
to fail
(c) Caitlin C.
creeping
frictionless atoms
that stalk and walk around
strike hope
with Bukowski’s words of booze
and collapse
I
try to focus
a mind
made up
without success
meat eaters
need rides from
her, she stops
as she finds her
mocha- tainted-
and resolves to drink
the waste
life has not brought up
the topic of it’s
selfish divorce
it’s undermining mind
melting
deflation
but sometimes you just
know,
you’ve been built up
to fail
(c) Caitlin C.
hey look! it’s you without me. drive!
Chilling! By the way- if you didn't figure this out, the poem titles are the titles of the post... yes yes!
On the cold nights
of clichéd spasm
They pulsed together
in a
hallway they
called
big and long
when they were
fresh inmates in
a cell block
rolling eyes of failed
worshippers
dead lips of pathetic
girls, boys who were
chicken
and men who needed
to grow
The world would stop
that cold night
would become
a fairy tale
and they would rest
In time things would
never
change
(c) Caitlin C.
On the cold nights
of clichéd spasm
They pulsed together
in a
hallway they
called
big and long
when they were
fresh inmates in
a cell block
rolling eyes of failed
worshippers
dead lips of pathetic
girls, boys who were
chicken
and men who needed
to grow
The world would stop
that cold night
would become
a fairy tale
and they would rest
In time things would
never
change
(c) Caitlin C.
persona grata paramour
I think of this poem as an envoi- also known as the end of a poem where the poet addresses the person about which it was written. I know what you're thinking- where's the first part? Answer: I have no idea. An ending... with a missing start!
As unrequited
wretched people
we
mime each other
sinking and shifting
although I hope
we can disregard a minor schism
I can’t stay away
when I love each breath
you draw
pensive stares
see you
pulverized and incomplete
with clear-cut affinity
in a lonely
state of
frenzy
a backward
regress to me-
you have a rogue soul
the ego
of a painted women
but still you are
my heart’s
inamorato
(c) Caitlin C.
As unrequited
wretched people
we
mime each other
sinking and shifting
although I hope
we can disregard a minor schism
I can’t stay away
when I love each breath
you draw
pensive stares
see you
pulverized and incomplete
with clear-cut affinity
in a lonely
state of
frenzy
a backward
regress to me-
you have a rogue soul
the ego
of a painted women
but still you are
my heart’s
inamorato
(c) Caitlin C.
worryingly realistic movie plot
sitting in a boring hour of
calculations and
contemplations
not
on
task
the animal kingdom
leaps to slash the air with
a scratch
I start-
vault from my chair
and launch at a
water buffalo.
she is now
a carcass.
in reality it’s an undercover
job, and much more akin
to homicidal
rumors than
homicide
itself
it surprises me how
literal “social suicide”
becomes in the
wild
(c) Caitlin C.
calculations and
contemplations
not
on
task
the animal kingdom
leaps to slash the air with
a scratch
I start-
vault from my chair
and launch at a
water buffalo.
she is now
a carcass.
in reality it’s an undercover
job, and much more akin
to homicidal
rumors than
homicide
itself
it surprises me how
literal “social suicide”
becomes in the
wild
(c) Caitlin C.
Hooray for tree metaphors!
Accusations and Defense
I am not who you
Said I was
I am weak
But you knew that
And instead of letting
me grow like the bark
around a tree
You snapped me while
I was a twig
And when the leaves
Finally fell
Tears stung my face
And chopped like an ax
While you said good bye
You hoped we could- but My hope was crushed
and hacked away
The anticipation was
Perhaps the reason
I never brought it up
Until we ran out of
Things to say
That was when you
Trod over me and I split
Down the middle
But you didn’t, no
You didn’t
Miss my heart
Crack! went that twig
I am broken
I will never grow
(c) Caitlin C.
I am not who you
Said I was
I am weak
But you knew that
And instead of letting
me grow like the bark
around a tree
You snapped me while
I was a twig
And when the leaves
Finally fell
Tears stung my face
And chopped like an ax
While you said good bye
You hoped we could- but My hope was crushed
and hacked away
The anticipation was
Perhaps the reason
I never brought it up
Until we ran out of
Things to say
That was when you
Trod over me and I split
Down the middle
But you didn’t, no
You didn’t
Miss my heart
Crack! went that twig
I am broken
I will never grow
(c) Caitlin C.
dreams made of I wish I knew what
This is a strange poem... basically a compilation of really strange dreams that I somehow remembered enough to write down. Here it is.
they speak
in waterlogged
whispers, squeezing
tightly, stubborn
syndications
stand
reciting words of
spite in rhythm
skim lattes
hot breath
cracking ridges
with no bones
finally a happy member
recalls my psychotic
creeping, closer to
the end
and
the morning spits in my eyes
to clutch with
force perverse
happiness
left to scour a
melting pot
so full
of fish
that
they’re right
and left
alone
(c) Caitlin C.
they speak
in waterlogged
whispers, squeezing
tightly, stubborn
syndications
stand
reciting words of
spite in rhythm
skim lattes
hot breath
cracking ridges
with no bones
finally a happy member
recalls my psychotic
creeping, closer to
the end
and
the morning spits in my eyes
to clutch with
force perverse
happiness
left to scour a
melting pot
so full
of fish
that
they’re right
and left
alone
(c) Caitlin C.
revolutions on the dance floor
just when I’ve
finally let a gasp of air
escape, the claws of
your soul
scratched me with a smile
buried within acid
marching men
my heart is filled with
curved corners
retching in
delight, and miserably
blinking over my
confirmation candle
a swerving getaway that led
to the confinement of that air,
that whisp of wind and air
now enclosed and remembering
the faint essence
your weakling smile
that melts me
my downfall
like a moth that burns
over a heinous flame
(c) Caitlin C.
Elm Tree Statistics
Four letters were
Carved into the trunk of the elm
A scraggly, narrow heart
Closed around them like a cupped palm
Other calligraphy seems to blossom
When the sun
Shines on the page
And soaks in each teardrop
Of rain
I slam the weeping door,
Barefoot walk across
The grass
To the trunk of the elm
Until the old promise seems
Like a statistic
When a couple became a crowd
When the letters spread
Into a page
(c) Caitlin C.
Carved into the trunk of the elm
A scraggly, narrow heart
Closed around them like a cupped palm
Other calligraphy seems to blossom
When the sun
Shines on the page
And soaks in each teardrop
Of rain
I slam the weeping door,
Barefoot walk across
The grass
To the trunk of the elm
Until the old promise seems
Like a statistic
When a couple became a crowd
When the letters spread
Into a page
(c) Caitlin C.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
