Submissions by dearalexandra
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Apr 2013 1:28am
3rd Apr 2013 1:28am
Como Park Zoo and Conservatory
I once heard on Animal Planet that over 500 people are attacked and killed by lions each year.
The next time I visit the zoo I spend an hour at the lion enclosure
watching an oversized house cat snooze on his artificial sun rock. A red, plastic ball floats atop his 3-foot deep "watering hole" and I remain
unmoved.
I consider laughing out loud at the sheer ridiculousness of it all
c'mon king of the jungle
show me what you're made of
give us all a real show
if i had your strength
i'd maul every snot-nosed kid that pressed his face against...
The next time I visit the zoo I spend an hour at the lion enclosure
watching an oversized house cat snooze on his artificial sun rock. A red, plastic ball floats atop his 3-foot deep "watering hole" and I remain
unmoved.
I consider laughing out loud at the sheer ridiculousness of it all
c'mon king of the jungle
show me what you're made of
give us all a real show
if i had your strength
i'd maul every snot-nosed kid that pressed his face against...
421 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
31st Mar 2013 7:48pm
31st Mar 2013 7:48pm
catalysts
I. They tell me you’ll fall in love with anything
that has two legs and a pulse
so I guess that makes me no better than
the dead spider that’s been curled up in my bathtub
for weeks.
II. Some of the best (and worst)
decisions are made while laying in someone else’s bed
at 2:39 in the morning.
A voice of reason yells “don’t fucking do it” into the dark room
and I oblige
so I guess a murmured apology is all I can offer you
this time.
III. I’ve started dreaming about sharks again
so I guess that means things are getting pretty bad.
that has two legs and a pulse
so I guess that makes me no better than
the dead spider that’s been curled up in my bathtub
for weeks.
II. Some of the best (and worst)
decisions are made while laying in someone else’s bed
at 2:39 in the morning.
A voice of reason yells “don’t fucking do it” into the dark room
and I oblige
so I guess a murmured apology is all I can offer you
this time.
III. I’ve started dreaming about sharks again
so I guess that means things are getting pretty bad.
487 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
26th Mar 2013 1:58am
26th Mar 2013 1:58am
spring break is over
This town wants to wage wars on a body
that is already a battleground.
I have become my crimson smears
staining the words “I’m sorry”
on everything I touch.
You don't mind that I've ruined your upholstery
and you never bother trying to scrub me out.
I want to go some place
where the winters are colder
than my innards
and spend hours sitting in snow banks
until they too
match the pigment of my regret.
Lately I’ve been thinking less about
how I wish you had stayed
and more about how nice it’d be
to shiver with you.
that is already a battleground.
I have become my crimson smears
staining the words “I’m sorry”
on everything I touch.
You don't mind that I've ruined your upholstery
and you never bother trying to scrub me out.
I want to go some place
where the winters are colder
than my innards
and spend hours sitting in snow banks
until they too
match the pigment of my regret.
Lately I’ve been thinking less about
how I wish you had stayed
and more about how nice it’d be
to shiver with you.
512 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
21st Mar 2013 11:27pm
21st Mar 2013 11:27pm
3:15
god
do i wish i wasted as much ink on paper
as i do on my arms
writing about something
romantic
like the girl who painted color
on the cheeks of a vitreous boy
with dead eyes
for the first time all year
or the way you can actually hear
your heart squeeze when you drive down
old boulevards where you spent summers
falling in love
but all i can write about
is the way your name has been waking me
from dead sleep every night this week
and there is nothing romantic about that
do i wish i wasted as much ink on paper
as i do on my arms
writing about something
romantic
like the girl who painted color
on the cheeks of a vitreous boy
with dead eyes
for the first time all year
or the way you can actually hear
your heart squeeze when you drive down
old boulevards where you spent summers
falling in love
but all i can write about
is the way your name has been waking me
from dead sleep every night this week
and there is nothing romantic about that
591 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
18th Mar 2013 9:58pm
18th Mar 2013 9:58pm
gym class, ninth grade
i. no amount of fire i spat at you and your snowstorm heart was ever enough to make it feel again like the summer we met
ii. i keep lighting matches in my ribcage hoping to melt you right out of the puncture wounds you left in my chest
iii. it’s been almost 24 months since then and i’m still swallowing antifreeze
ii. i keep lighting matches in my ribcage hoping to melt you right out of the puncture wounds you left in my chest
iii. it’s been almost 24 months since then and i’m still swallowing antifreeze
639 reads
4 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
7th Mar 2013 00:11am
7th Mar 2013 00:11am
Alphabet Soup
You cut me open across state lines
so you'd be too far away to read the words
that spilled from my veins.
Now I'm bleeding out
in bathtubs
instead of in your voicemail.
I hope that if you ever find me
you can make out that
the last letters dried on my skin spell out
"I love you
I'm sorry
We've ruined it all"
so you'd be too far away to read the words
that spilled from my veins.
Now I'm bleeding out
in bathtubs
instead of in your voicemail.
I hope that if you ever find me
you can make out that
the last letters dried on my skin spell out
"I love you
I'm sorry
We've ruined it all"
523 reads
0 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
24th Feb 2013 3:36am
24th Feb 2013 3:36am
Pact
Please don’t be gone when I wake up in the morning.
I know my scars contradict every word I say
and that “love yourself” rings meaningless to people like you and I
but we’re standing on the same bridge, having a lovely conversation
about how easy it would be to just
jump off
but I don’t tell you how on the count of three
I’d push you back on the concrete before leaping.
Please don’t be gone when I wake up in the morning
because I need you
and you’re the only one who’s ever really needed me.
I know my scars contradict every word I say
and that “love yourself” rings meaningless to people like you and I
but we’re standing on the same bridge, having a lovely conversation
about how easy it would be to just
jump off
but I don’t tell you how on the count of three
I’d push you back on the concrete before leaping.
Please don’t be gone when I wake up in the morning
because I need you
and you’re the only one who’s ever really needed me.
599 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
15th Jan 2013 2:22am
15th Jan 2013 2:22am
Things That Still Keep Me Up At Night, part one
I lose myself in the people I love.
It's not a conscious thing, really.
It happens sort of gradually. Like a boat,
sinking into the chest of my lover
until one day I'm completely
submerged.
You never asked about my rope burn scar
or why I never venture out to sea
or why I knock twice on wood when you joke
about dying.
You never watched Sally Field's amazing performance
in my favorite movie and you always insisted that
the Beach Boys were "gay".
You never noticed that the birthmark on my knee
either looks like...
It's not a conscious thing, really.
It happens sort of gradually. Like a boat,
sinking into the chest of my lover
until one day I'm completely
submerged.
You never asked about my rope burn scar
or why I never venture out to sea
or why I knock twice on wood when you joke
about dying.
You never watched Sally Field's amazing performance
in my favorite movie and you always insisted that
the Beach Boys were "gay".
You never noticed that the birthmark on my knee
either looks like...
583 reads
4 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
14th Aug 2012 4:09am
14th Aug 2012 4:09am
Rest In Peace
I'm afraid you're
really lost this time but
I keep leaving out bread crumbs;
songs you sang and
jokes you told
and pictures of us in a different time-
in hopes that they might help you
find your way back.
I find myself looking for you
in graveyards and praying to
God that you haven't made it
here yet.
I don't want to keep walking
in the mist,
for fear I'll find your
ghost.
Because everyone knows,
there's no bringing back the dead.
really lost this time but
I keep leaving out bread crumbs;
songs you sang and
jokes you told
and pictures of us in a different time-
in hopes that they might help you
find your way back.
I find myself looking for you
in graveyards and praying to
God that you haven't made it
here yet.
I don't want to keep walking
in the mist,
for fear I'll find your
ghost.
Because everyone knows,
there's no bringing back the dead.
575 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
29th Jun 2012 2:16am
29th Jun 2012 2:16am
depths
I've always been afraid of sharks
and bottomless, dark waters
miles away from shore.
So I spent this past year
with feet firmly planted ashore
and wondered why I felt seasick
while surrounded by rocks.
Then I noticed the ocean
inside my chest
and the waves crashing relentlessly against
my ribcage and
I realized that my heart was 2,000 leagues deep
in shark-infested waters.
And that's when I finally knew what it was
to drown on dry land.
and bottomless, dark waters
miles away from shore.
So I spent this past year
with feet firmly planted ashore
and wondered why I felt seasick
while surrounded by rocks.
Then I noticed the ocean
inside my chest
and the waves crashing relentlessly against
my ribcage and
I realized that my heart was 2,000 leagues deep
in shark-infested waters.
And that's when I finally knew what it was
to drown on dry land.
821 reads
6 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by dearalexandra
