Category Archives: Prompted Poetry

One Hundred Crystal Balls

Stand still– for this moment, you are blind in peacock feather eyes. You are doused in crystals, beaded in fortunes too new to be told– stand still. Stand still– for this moment, you have drained mosaic windows of their prophecies … Continue reading

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As Silence Reflects

I click my bones against you to know my hollow. My skin shades in transparence until I am glass. I am fragile tainted glass; tinted, unworthy. My bones open for your transcendence. I welcome shatter. Please, your fire binds my … Continue reading

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My Last Night

I charred their bones that night when I let the snow fall up my nose. Convincing myself that falling stars were meant to breathe in like the Indian breeze is meant for scorched skin. My sin was begging for snow. … Continue reading

Posted in Addiction, Bipolar Disorder, Cohering My Trip, Poetry 101, Prompted Poetry, Recollecting India, Recollecting Insanity | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

As Robyn

I live in brittle bones’ cage built of sage & his sibylline crystal– This flutter feels sinful. Pinched within weight, choke me by chain– We pulse by sweat beads beat in sweet ornate dew drooled over my chest.. His is … Continue reading

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prostituting avalanche

that foam spread over mounds, mountains of guilt wafted for the sake of clarity. there is more that can pass through such lips… i was reciprocating mutable charm to drip off my chin– but only on weekends. he obliged, promised … Continue reading

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where wolves swing

validate our animus before the moon comes closer, it will swing. come closer, let us swing. light beckons, light becomes me. await my animal before the moon gets closer. Hear my scream, get closer, this may sting. * response to … Continue reading

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grasped under your beat

and i wonder if you took my hand, all those days when feet were bare and callused, could it all have been erased between branches grasped under your beat? but we can last in our obsolete. but we’ve made it … Continue reading

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It’s just grape juice.

Hush. That wisdom is overwhelming, intolerable placid chimes. Creases will find themselves branching, splitting to your temples                     (every sunday morning). And Christ confessed, it’s just grape juice, it’s a virus’ spread; golden rimed goblets passed through hands of gospel dwellers, … Continue reading

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break fast guillotine

pavement, pavement, money in hand, sinking in solitude, away, away from their forms, their judgement it’s sweet it’s ripened i’m sourpuss it’s octopus saturated, saturated in glittler, sugar coated, tear the legs one by one, two, three, four to eight … Continue reading

Posted in Life, Prompted Poetry, Recovery (USA) | Tagged , , , , , | 2 Comments