Snowflakes

Thank you for


Giving me your Eyes.

I see you only in the worst places

And it’s good.

Because right now

It’s Snow

That’s the thing I’m thankful for

Yes, even the nerves on frozen fire.

Pile me up in true White

Because you can see the Angels dancing.

And when I die,

Bury me in a place where

I grow like roots

A place where

I see the sky and the dancing Angels.

Even if they don’t see with my eyes,

With your Eyes,

The thing is

They see.

Await

This poem is going under rights for Images, the literary magazine on my campus. It'll b e back up when I get rights back! YAY! Happy dance!

Say

I didn’t say I love you


I said pass me the potatoes

I said I have to work late tonight

What I meant was I miss being alone with you

I didn’t say fuck you, go to hell

I said I’m on the toilet

I said where are the kids

I didn’t say let’s have sex

I also didn’t say you’re sexy

I didn’t say I burned my hand on the oven today and nobody was there to kiss it

I said it was about time you got home, supper’s on the table

I didn’t say we never talk any more

I said you’re ignorant

I didn’t say I think the rest of the world has it wrong

I said yes and no and mmhm

What I meant to say was teach me what you know

Let me learn.

Let me speak.

And every night when you go to bed

I don’t say I hope I am in your dreams

I don’t say I am pissed at you for screwing up my life

I don’t say what happened to us

I don’t say please forgive me for anything I’ve ever done wrong

I don’t say shape up or I’m kicking you out

I don’t say I am off my rocker, a total basketcase, crazy lunatic because you’re maddening

I don’t say I’m a better man because of you

I say good night

Sometimes, I say I love you.

Untitled

This poem is going under rights for Images, the literary magazine on my campus. It'll b e back up when I get rights back! YAY! Happy dance!

Rainstorm

Thunder


        Rumble

              Rumble

Sigh

        Pitter

        pat

        pat

pat pat

        pitter

              pat

Groan

       Growl
   
Pitter

pat

       pat pat

CRACK

Shuddershake

Roar

      Rumble

              Rumble

CRACK

      Rumble

ROAR

Rush             whush

PAT pat pat

      patter pitter pat

Shhhhhhhhhh

Rush

     CRACK

Shake shudder tremble

Just give me one more

Shhhhhh

Pat

Pat

Pat

Pitter pat pat pat pat

Pat pitter pat

     God

CRACK

Rock rock shake

     Shudder

           Rumble

                  Rumble

Groan

Screech

POUNCE

Take take

      Pit

      patter

pat

      pitter pat

Mumble rumble

Away, aw –

Shhhhhhh

Pat

Pat



Pat



Sigh


     rumble

All I Can Give

All I Can Give

Rebecca Jordan



I love the earth

So she said,

Hear my heartbeat.

I press chest and cheek to soft

impressionable

musky soil, millions of moments in the making.

This is not the earth’s heart,

but mine,

thudding against it.

Yes, but that’s what a first-tried lover would say,

reflecting in sweat-dampened sheets,

reveling in his own flesh.

I still feel my own heart.

Give it to me.

Give? It is the only thing of mine I have. Do not take it from me.

Give it to me.



Sunlight is not allowed here,

jealous sentries of trees letting it through when it suits them.

Perfume of rotting decay is welcome here,

where things grow out of it.

Cool, moist earth soaks into my skin, damp and worm,

but even that is not mine.



I only have my heart,

not even a sound

to ground me

but the vague recollection that somewhere nearby

there must be water using the land as a

private temple.



-

-

I have given her my heart without knowing it,

as I lay between

soft mounds of earth like thighs,

between awake and asleep.

This is all I know.

I have given her my heart.

I hear her heart in me and around me, like she promised.

The promise of life persists,

amongst other promises she does not care to make,

amongst promises she refuses to give or breaks.

It is a slow primal beat,

with days,

months.

decades

between.

Decay between.

Her limbs find home on me.

Tickle of flies’ legs that lay their eggs on me,

Brush of cold nose

like polished stone

or whiskers searching for sustenance in me,

Grass and fungus

stretching

and moaning

possessively

thrillingly thrilled

around me

like blood

or flesh.

Her heart roots me, for I no longer have my own, and

I need

something to beat.

When they find me

let them say

The Earth has swallowed me whole.

A Sonnet For You

This poem is going under rights for Images, the literary magazine on my campus. It'll b e back up when I get rights back! YAY! Happy dance!