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Literature Text
i allowed the word to curl
against the ceiling of my mouth.
cradling the absence of a
storm that never came
roosting over rafters of a
note stretched far too long.
seeping through my teeth and
pulling moisture from the rain.
"fly"
Literature
Lullaby
"I've been waiting my entire life to tell you that I'm dying and I figured I'd finally get it over with.
So here I am, carving forgive me
into my teeth, so every time that I speak
I can still say that I'm sorry.
More years have passed in the last than I care to remember
but I could never forget:
In eighth grade my chorus teacher always told me,
'Michael, you'll never be good enough.'
and it always excited me. It reminded me of my mother.
On the last day of school she smiled,
her teeth jagged like a train wreck,
she didn't say a word,
but I knew exactly what she meant.
In high school I fell in love with a roadside bomb waiting to be deton
Literature
Recycle Bin
Oh Recycle Bin,
How you taunt me so.
Plump from my ideas,
With none for me to show.
Your mouth always open,
Waiting to be fed
The words that roll about
So messy in my head.
Each scrap a banquet,
Each page a tasty treat.
You grin at my failure
And swell from my defeat...
Literature
The Troubles of Dating
The Troubles of Dating (and Time-Travel)
I suppose she was the first girl I fell in love with because of something other than a nice pair of breasts, and therefore, the first girl I fell in love with whom I actually succeeded in asking out on a date. More than anything it was her hair, the way it was neither curly nor straight, but wavy, and in a dark and dreamy shade of red that nearly seemed black. It reached down beyond her shoulders, and I could find myself staring at the back of her head for hours during our classes, mesmerized by it. Breasts weren't half-bad either though.
And she was a nice person. At least, that was the impression I
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I know it's not much, but school officially started back today and I just found out I have two novels to read this week. literally.
THIS WEEK. AS IS 7 FREAKING DAYS TO READ OVER 1000 PAGES OF WORDS.
pray for me
Other poetry by me you may like:
(Yaayyy I finally figured out how to do the thumbnail thing!)
Poem © Sadee Esquivel
THIS WEEK. AS IS 7 FREAKING DAYS TO READ OVER 1000 PAGES OF WORDS.
pray for me
Other poetry by me you may like:
Hello August
Shuffling softly in the twilight of morning
blooming children once wandered along the drifting sidewalks
feeling only scattered freckles of broken sunlight
drip across their faces.
Rolls of fresh dew tumble down unraveled flowers
nestling gently in the corners of their toes.
They skid through puddled asphalt
soaking deep the buried harmonies beneath their cursive breath;
the taste of past summers still
steaming on their tongues.
Insomnia A miniature moon floats sleepily
atop my open window;
a drifting continent sifting
over shivering tree tops.
Watery clouds explore along the
broken crest of atoms,
fingers rolling in the shadows
of its dimensions.
My skewed sight steadily begins to
repaint the scattered stars and
one by one like raindrops,
they burst across the sky
Breathing down in thoughtful shafts
upon the inside of my eyelids.
I'm thankful to be an insomniac.
Listening For Inspiration Taste the breath of timid words
arising from my speech.
Dripping through my lips,
unfurling sails of poetry.
Catching wind of empty waves,
the words fall one by one.
They stoop the gentle break of day
and melt through river's run.
Curl beneath the shaded trees
and hide in hollowed rocks.
They topple through the spider's weave
and splash through bursting drops.
Sit behind the sunset
and before the rising skies,
dipping palms in Bluejay's songs
while frosting tearful eyes.
Complimenting purple streaks
across the orange noon.
Their silhouetting shadows casting
freckles for the moon.
Passing secret whispers
through the cu
reprise words tossed gently
on a spinning river top
sink as stones to rise again
and kiss the break of day.
resurface, ripple, and repeat.
(Yaayyy I finally figured out how to do the thumbnail thing!)
Poem © Sadee Esquivel
© 2012 - 2024 HoldTheNoise
Comments23
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Overall Vision Originality Technique
ImpactThis is short and very sweet. I like the way you subtly begin using imagery and vocabulary related to the idea of flight and height right off the bat (curl against the ceiling, roosting over rafters). It primes the reader almost subconsciously for the...well, identity of the word makes it sound like a crime boss or superhero, but there you go. In addition, there's a lovely little piece of half-rhyme in came/rain that adds an excellent flow to the piece.
One thing that bothers me is that I do get of sense of hope that's already passed here with some imagery and hope that's being created with others. The use of the verb cradling, for instance, suggests hope that's been born, while note stretching far too long to me indicates a hope that's failing as it has not been realized. Then again, this may just be me. But I found my inability to pull a clear tone from this work significantly lowered my enjoyment of the piece and the impact which it had on me.
I'm not the writer. You could've meant the tone to come across as ambivalent. In addition, I'm only one reader. Others may disagree with my assessment. Still, while my word can be taken or left, I must say for the record that I really did like this piece, both for the uncommon brevity and for the powerful imagery used here.