Poetry For Our Time

Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason. -Novalis

Author Archive

What happened on karaoke night (revision)

with 3 comments

Am I lame for re-posting the same poem? Maybe. But since I got such good comments, I kind of want to polish it. I sort of love it now.

You told me I seemed like the type of person
who takes everything in,
who soaks up the world, the way a sponge does water.

I don’t know how you,
you tall and lanky in that red t-shirt,
you looking at me in my blue v-neck
and jeans I’ve worked years to fit into again,
you of just a few conversations
on your and my singing and our little bits of history—
how you could know this of me.

I can’t understand how you,
you with that long coat
and black hair
and James Taylor voice,
you as you nonchalantly slip your long arm around my tiny shoulder,
how you can know this of me,
me with my big plans and no time,
me with my short body, you with your tall frame,
how you can know something
that some people I’ve lived with my whole life,
my whole life,
haven’t even begun to know.

I don’t get how I,
I who knows this-is-oh-so-wrong,
I who told myself I wouldn’t,
but I who finds your eyes
magnetically
across the room–
I don’t get how I can let myself
go here.

But I do.

You, you with that black hair
and piercing eyes
and red shirt
you with the long coat and lanky frame,
you with your James Taylor voice
singing husky and shy compliments to me,
you’re right. I am a sponge.
I take everything in,
I let in all the words, I let in all the thoughts and feelings
I can absorb.

And right now, I,
all I want
to soak in
is the sensation—
yes. All I want right now
is the sensation
of your smoky mouth
against mine.

Written by Molly M M

April 20, 2009 at 12:14 am

Posted in Poem

What happened on karaoke night

with 8 comments

This poem got eaten once… Let’s hope it makes it onto the site this time. I don’t think it’s real great, but I’m having a lot of trouble finding creative inspiration (aka a topic on which to write and a fitting way in which to write it) lately. This is what I could come up with.

You told me I seemed like the type of person
who takes everything in,
who soaks up the world the way a sponge does water.

I don’t know how you,
you tall and lanky in that red t-shirt,
looking at me in my blue v-neck
and jeans I’ve worked years to fit into again,
you of just a few conversations
on singing and our little bits of history,
how you could know this of me.

I can’t understand how you,
you with that long coat
and black hair
and James Taylor voice,
as you nonchalantly slip your long arm around my tiny shoulder,
how you can know this of me,
me with my big plans and no time,
me with my short body,
me with my closed-up heart,
how you can know something
that some people I’ve lived with my whole life
haven’t even begun to know.

I don’t get how I,
I who knows this-is-oh-so-wrong,
but I who finds your eyes
magnetically
across the room–
I don’t get how I can let myself go here.

But I do.

And I know that this is not
what I need or want right now,
that there are corners packed with dark and light inaccessible,
that I told myself I wouldn’t.

Yet I can’t help but think,
you, you with that black hair
and piercing eyes
and red shirt long coat lanky frame,
you with your James Taylor voice
singing husky and shy compliments to me,
you’re right. I am a sponge.
I take everything in,
I let in all the words and thoughts and feelings I can absorb.

And all I want to soak in
right now
is the sensation
so wrong, or maybe not wrong,
all I want right now is the sensation
of your smoky mouth
against mine.

Written by Molly M M

April 12, 2009 at 5:58 am

Posted in Poem

I’m still quite ill…

with one comment

… not sure how long I’ll be out, but you can expect a massive-in-length, awesome-in-style poem about what I’ve (we’ve) mentioned, when I return.

Dear God, what am I in for.

Written by Molly M M

February 12, 2009 at 4:40 am

Posted in Uncategorized

Gahhhhh

with 3 comments

Still sick. I’m sorry. Another three-parter coming soon. This theme, at Amanda’s request: Grammy performances.

I’m going to go stick my head in a facial steamer now.

Written by Molly M M

February 11, 2009 at 5:16 am

Posted in Uncategorized

Sorry kids.

leave a comment »

I’m sick as a dog. Gotta skip the poem today. And maybe tomorrow too, since I feel chills all over my body, my head’s about to fall off, and I’m, of course, hacking up a lung.

Written by Molly M M

February 10, 2009 at 3:30 am

Posted in Poem

the last five years

with 6 comments

To make up for my bad writing habits this weekend, tonight we will have a poem consisting of three parts.

i.
in blues and pinks I swelled
my soul turned to pure spring water
I lay down my very heart
and peeled open the rind
you drank in me and I,
I felt full

ii.
puddled on your kitchen floor
I lost my eyesight
and my insides broke into screams,
then whimpers, clinging to one last piece
of the rind
I grasped for the blues and pinks
with my invisible hands
as they evaporated into your coat
I drank what was left
and the door shut quietly

iii.
I never quite knew
what a solitary creature I could be
and am,
should be
the world is very white and black now
I picked up the heart I lay down for you
enclosed it like a hazelnut,
full to the taste but so hard to break
replacing the rind, that shell
inside I freeze and unfreeze,
cultivate a new soul
until the colors return to my unblind eyes again

someday I’ll return,
swelling again,
but never melting

Written by Molly M M

February 9, 2009 at 2:44 am

Posted in Poem

REM

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I just got home a bit ago and JUST remembered to do this… ugh.

I want to know why
my puppy whimpers in his sleep,
if he’s chasing cats
or being chased by one.

Two tomorrow?

Written by Molly M M

February 6, 2009 at 7:04 am

Posted in Uncategorized