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Literature Text
i. gregory,
with his sun-kissed skin & microscopic eyes,
knows not to don rachel's rose-coloured glasses
or take her reality classes.
although he is swimming in disbelief,
he can't help feeling like he's mourning
something that he's not yet lost.
ii. rachel's forte was never gardening.
her family tree could rain its leaves all day
but she will not be the rake, clawing
its way through the earth
to neatly bundle a bouquet;
she can not see ian's pleas
through a rose lens with embers in her eyes.
iii. ian is not afraid to get his hands dirty.
if an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind,
then maybe rachel was the sacrifice,
& he will not hesitate to dig deep
to ensure that emily is satisfied.
iv. emily is suffering under the oppression
of a king that she did not bargain for.
every day is her december:
she freezes the touch of each man
at speeds that question if angels roam the earth,
& prays that they do.
with just one blink,
all the colours from her life retired.
v. florence knows what the others do not:
water what you sow & it will grow.
fallen tears become replaced with flowers
& one day, they will meet again.
with his sun-kissed skin & microscopic eyes,
knows not to don rachel's rose-coloured glasses
or take her reality classes.
although he is swimming in disbelief,
he can't help feeling like he's mourning
something that he's not yet lost.
ii. rachel's forte was never gardening.
her family tree could rain its leaves all day
but she will not be the rake, clawing
its way through the earth
to neatly bundle a bouquet;
she can not see ian's pleas
through a rose lens with embers in her eyes.
iii. ian is not afraid to get his hands dirty.
if an eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind,
then maybe rachel was the sacrifice,
& he will not hesitate to dig deep
to ensure that emily is satisfied.
iv. emily is suffering under the oppression
of a king that she did not bargain for.
every day is her december:
she freezes the touch of each man
at speeds that question if angels roam the earth,
& prays that they do.
with just one blink,
all the colours from her life retired.
v. florence knows what the others do not:
water what you sow & it will grow.
fallen tears become replaced with flowers
& one day, they will meet again.
Literature
LOUD
After the longest Friday at work
I come home,
get a little drunk on
honey whiskey,
make lemonade from scratch,
cello on the speakers.
I get high & rock
Lindsay Sterling.
My friend’s fiancé hung himself:
a good man, videotaping his death, somewhere;
a failed conversation,
a wealth of unsaid words,
my voice is useless.
Tonight doing dishes
becomes a poem;
wearing a dress,
back exposed,
skin
still
hot
from loving,
I purple passion paint
my toes.
I like cooking with you,
that sneaky, subtle dance,
the way you taste
my finger-
hold
the whisk, turn,
& spill
spices in my palm,
drifting into
warm haze,
rising
Literature
-
i fade with
stilted shots, the audience
waits for me. choking. oh god
how could this happen
with my throat
twisted up
and my head bound tight
in ropes i'm not sure i want to
untie? snap my brittle
wrists. i'm losing again,
numbers scaling down to a
place i should not be.
a parasite is swallowing
my energy. tests are negative.
i breathe.
--
just as i drift
into
pale, fading sleep,
his fingernails
claw through
the
material of
my skull.
i don't know who he is but i remember
the wooden floor beneath me
the length of my hair
catching under my back
as i struggle
and
how it felt when he
left me on the floor,
limp
tear stre
Literature
do we?
i) i cry quiet
into harvestred hands
after the bubble
builds too big in my mouth
ii) do we ever
recover?
iii) guilt
anguish
shame
smile
iv) i deposit dust and dirt
into my bed
to make my nightmares
itch
v) she is nothing to me
past
present
ever again
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not one of my greatest works but it's unedited & i wrote this in ~5mins because time is running out for the writing tournament round ii.
the theme is "inner passage" & i've done the five stages of grief. when strung together, the first letter of each person's mame (& beginning of each stanza) spells "grief". besides iii., all stanzas represent each season, starting with summer.
what's good, what's bad?
tips to fix this?
partially inspired by saltwaterlungs' piece red blood cells.
the theme is "inner passage" & i've done the five stages of grief. when strung together, the first letter of each person's mame (& beginning of each stanza) spells "grief". besides iii., all stanzas represent each season, starting with summer.
what's good, what's bad?
tips to fix this?
partially inspired by saltwaterlungs' piece red blood cells.
Comments11
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This is quite a unique way to describe the five stages of grief using seasons and very clever! I enjoyed it! I wrote one about the five stages..would you like to read it?