Tag Archives: poetry

Constellations: 2014 Week 1 Synchronicity

I’m in the process of learning how to use words in a cathartic way. Until now I most wrote for escape. I’m rusty at poetry and still broken hearted, but here’s a story.

Constellations

I believed in the
synchronicities
Of you
And me

I believed
The little green house
I drove by daily
The fact that
You spent three years
Just streets away

You always asked me
About the constellations

I wanted to
Draw lines between
Synchronicities
The same college
Same major
You had my friend as a professor

Make our own constellation
We didn’t need the gods in the sky

The day before I stopped believing
In our lives aligning
I decided to plan a trip to Portland
The same city she lived in

You are responsible
And I want to hold it against her
Remember the time she
Wanted me to know:
I had nothing to worry about
And I wasn’t even worried

When I asked
You said you believe things happen
For a reason
Like maybe this had to happen
For you to blossom
For me to break free
Fill myself with self love
Mourn the destruction of stars

& I forgave you
Because online flirting
Amateur and dumb
Doesn’t outweigh
The pull of my heart

But you couldn’t
Release blame on yourself

And so we wander
Lonely stars in a
Finite universe
Exchanging constellation
For coexistence
Slowly unwinding
We unalign

Xoxo
Melanie Kristy

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Unfold

 

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Unfold

From child’s pose

Into downward dog

Fold over

Mountain crumbling

Like an avalanche

Swan

Dive forward

Reach

Far out

Ignite the fire

With dragon’s breath

Petals of pain

Peel away from the lower back

Roll down

Rest on strong thighs

Supportive standing legs

Hug knees

Release

Stretch deep

 

 

 

 

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Roadkill

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i)

Get stuffed

Stuff it down

This stuff

Dress it up

Hang it on a wall

Forget that

It’s not real

It’s not alive

Can’t feel a thing

Touch it

It’s not real

But look how life-like

Struck so sudden

Like a truck

He came out of nowhere

Like a door

Flying

Shoes lost

Glasses gone

Blurry

All the way home

ii)

Raccoon splattered a few hours after we said hello

Earlier in the night

I was okay

I was all right

Smash like a truck

Snap Splat

I saw your pelt

Hands still

Little paws

Still intact

But your innards were left so far behind

Shining black

Street light

Missed bus

Mad girl taking snaps of a dead raccoon

Howl and heave

Along a dead road

I cried for you raccoon

You and me

Guts smushed

Inside innards out

Forgot to look the other way

Street sweepers will come back for you another day

Who will come for me?

iii)

And just when you think there’s no way you’re coming back from this one

They puff you right up

Stuff you

Fill you

Prop you in a fancy pose

Stitch your smiling face back on

Glass eyes stuck

Look how life-like

Look how real she looks

But not really

Claws

Skin

Pelt

What she was

Is gone

Faded

Forgotten

Black stain on the pavement

Hymen spilled on his childhood mattress

Thumbnail torn in the hinge of her trailer door

Bobby pin rusting at the bottom of their backyard pool

Fill

Stitch

Glue

Twisted in the memory

Hardened by the stuffing

Fur still soft

But not alive

Making me want to cry

Empty painted eyes

So many dead things hanging on these walls

I will never be the way I was

Taxidermy can’t fix this

My insides out

Still on the road

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the snark

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I always felt like a freak
and not just because of the horns

But Victorie brought me home
and we drank all night
She said I was a goddess
and then she eviscerated me

(why are girls always doing that to each other?)

She added me to the collection
right between the anthromorphic, banjo-playing cat
and the two-headed fawn

Her boyfriends always ask why she didn’t make me “stacked”
except for the ones who look at me
and say nothing at all.

(i suspect they are leg men)

My mouth is sewn shut
from the inside
and I don’t have much to say
but I really would like to tell her how much
I hate
this dress.

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Puppet Show

Someday we’ll all be
dancing on bones and dust
marionettes on strings
of the departed
slipping between worlds
painting faces with fresh blood

reaching aching yawning
outstretching fingers
with hollow eye sockets.
we are all a dream
of a deceased soldier
fighting
      lovelifeself
in search of
      peacecalmquiet
      moneyeasepain

 

should we stop dancing
barefoot with muddy souls
and let go of the strings
say goodbye to the red faced puppeteer’

enter a thrill ride
because the end result
remains the same
ashes, dust, buried, scattered
beneath the earth
of the air
on the lips of lovers
who can sever rope
and just let go.

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Cut and Paste Poetry: A Macabre Project

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1.  Lunch Hour Macabre

Death.  Hold on.  Come back.
Clutch at my young throat
This is a game we used to play
But I was so afraid
Carve away the stone
How do they
Climb the stairs
Break down the wall
Retreat to the sparkling darkness holding hands
Until I faint 
Press close enough
And it is quiet.
Kiss felt like
I was trapped in memories
Against the cold stone
I like the way it feels
But for now lungs breathe
At the end of the hall she passed a note.
Not the end.

2.  Setting Sun Macabre

When I think of how
They lowered me down
In reality
We set each other free
How real then kissing was
And now take take the reality away
We found our first escape
And then take your hands away
I wanted to know
To feel this kind of release
Fuck a boy
Until darkness rises
Like a fog off dead meadow
Let me fall
Peaceful edge
Cutting soft light of the living

3.  Macabre Cross the Line

You’ve now seen the other side, far away.
It wasn’t all that.
Insane laughter
Back of the bus
All that
Rain
Once again you are you, in love
These aching lungs
Wasting the present day
Caverns of lonely 
Aching veins
I don’t know this is the end
Deafening call
I don’t know but let the pure love kill

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Mad Girl’s Love Song by Sylvia Plath

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I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

 
 

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