9.22
He speaks to save souls funny thing Demeter understands won’t look—back to him table and coffee cold—hard listening leans in You are what your father see in you She been fishing that answer asked over cards smokes literature-smarts but this so simple Slips his words over tongue can’t hear damn diesel trucks drown No condemnation No condemnation the Lord’s righteousness that why Jesus say the Lord and I are one—Whoaf He sings Demeter risks look A lady stone-faced says I gotta go Say what’s your name? Marvel Marvel—my aunt’s name Marvel—God bless you sister that’s a beautiful name Thank you Lady leaves Demeter still hungry only half-reads reasons So much need—why not feed on him?
Monday, September 22, 2008
Heather Palmer (Poetry/Prose)
Updated on Sep 22, 2008
Traveler
I.
Starch grass
below moon
don't move
I'm only visiting
II.
Unpack my suitcause
I can't come
my cupboards turn
starch to stale
III.
I didn't want
True blue
only a
visiting suitcase
Dawn
Undoing until a deep gray
tells its own story: how night thaws
to a wake of sleeping days
Laundry
Use big-hearted instead of generous
empty barrel in my panties
tight-feeling
blasting water-hose rash
therapy dries from the clothesline
Plea to her Lover
Woman molding tongue
Because even if it doesnt matter
Nothing holds this blue so well
my hand spreads for the color
Underground
Lovely cherry lollipop
twig to suppress
sunshine-skin cancer
cracked waif
The saffron one says
lying to myself makes me
Face hunger
swallow.
Size
What for so long?
Owners of body
braided bread between
Sacred in the common body
faces over
Shoes in a row
women willing to want
Soul skin been burnt
toe to head
Big Eyes
These big eyes seen
candy-wrapper gutters
crushed coke cans
freshlove sugarbread
burnt to bitter toast
wrinkled skin from
sin worn suns.
Note
I don't like developments
Hate light:
shut the sky with my eyes
drink it through slits
When we just sat
I liked that. You didn't move.
But then--hands to waist--
you kissed me.
Haiku's for Amy
Light starting to heavy
under my fingertip
your note left a papercut
Eleanor soaks
in the tub
sobs over book
Iron gates rise
people trapped
to the seventh floor
Knowing fall rain
falls heavy
feet drown the street
Rainy Haiku's
The Name spoken
on lips
defiles it
This city's
too small
my satiety
Perfect beans roast
even espresso
fails this thirst
Fantasy
Ladleblenders cork cake to sugarspoons
tea between tuna'd mandolins
whisk spatula's bananas
Yes
If the hole of apathy
emptiness of sadness
the heat of hate
is love in all it
even more--too--
Love has to be
Traveler
I.
Starch grass
below moon
don't move
I'm only visiting
II.
Unpack my suitcause
I can't come
my cupboards turn
starch to stale
III.
I didn't want
True blue
only a
visiting suitcase
Dawn
Undoing until a deep gray
tells its own story: how night thaws
to a wake of sleeping days
Laundry
Use big-hearted instead of generous
empty barrel in my panties
tight-feeling
blasting water-hose rash
therapy dries from the clothesline
Plea to her Lover
Woman molding tongue
Because even if it doesnt matter
Nothing holds this blue so well
my hand spreads for the color
Underground
Lovely cherry lollipop
twig to suppress
sunshine-skin cancer
cracked waif
The saffron one says
lying to myself makes me
Face hunger
swallow.
Size
What for so long?
Owners of body
braided bread between
Sacred in the common body
faces over
Shoes in a row
women willing to want
Soul skin been burnt
toe to head
Big Eyes
These big eyes seen
candy-wrapper gutters
crushed coke cans
freshlove sugarbread
burnt to bitter toast
wrinkled skin from
sin worn suns.
Note
I don't like developments
Hate light:
shut the sky with my eyes
drink it through slits
When we just sat
I liked that. You didn't move.
But then--hands to waist--
you kissed me.
Haiku's for Amy
Light starting to heavy
under my fingertip
your note left a papercut
Eleanor soaks
in the tub
sobs over book
Iron gates rise
people trapped
to the seventh floor
Knowing fall rain
falls heavy
feet drown the street
Rainy Haiku's
The Name spoken
on lips
defiles it
This city's
too small
my satiety
Perfect beans roast
even espresso
fails this thirst
Fantasy
Ladleblenders cork cake to sugarspoons
tea between tuna'd mandolins
whisk spatula's bananas
Yes
If the hole of apathy
emptiness of sadness
the heat of hate
is love in all it
even more--too--
Love has to be
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