Poetry
By capoeiragem
some poems...
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- 1179 reads
A Poet in Student Halls
Between shapes moving towards the serpent and crystal craving shapes, I'll grow a beard as deep as the river, and stick a poster on my wall. With a tree that can't stop singing
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- 1552 reads
A Bird in the Sky
Soaring through grim waves and concrete tower blocks, dancing in the pristine light, of cold winter’s glare. While a notion of stamping feet rushes on the ground, a busy anywhere hum
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- 1364 reads
A Tyranny of Angels
My friend, you've grown wings, what a curious thing! Surely you don't intend to fly? You weren't meant to adorn the sky, better to clip them now quickly,
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- 898 reads
Breakfast Haiku
Chopped bananas and frozen açaí berries, melting in the sink.
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- 1572 reads
Daybreak
The crisp blue dawn breathes a sharpened sigh, that, deep and heavy, drifts over sleeping rooftops, unfolds into a thousand silver grey butterflies that hover over the dreams
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- 1321 reads
Ode to a Nerudean Apple
And would you believe me if I told you that this apple sings? Green and perfect, fleshy womb of nature, gleaming in the light of a perfect sun, shining, radiant, a golden delicious miracle,
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- 1079 reads
The Girl on the Tracks
Theres a girl standing there, on the tracks, with long hair, blue eyes and an invisible smile. Her face is a cloud of sadness, and her skin is cold and soft. In her hands she holds the edges
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- 1092 reads
Waiting for Mrs. Woolf
Waiting for Virginia to appear in the projection of little wooden desktops who, warp with age, the fresh virgin canvas of learning, bend into letters forming in the sky,
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- 955 reads
Time
She said 'tomorrow might never come' to which I said 'it already has. It happened yesterday, along with all those other thousand year old things, because today is yesterday tomorrow'
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- 1834 reads
Dom Casmurro's Sonnet
A hastily constructed homage to Joaquim Maria Machado de Assis, inspired by his book 'Dom Casmurro', and specifically the unfinished sonnet to which the title of the poem alludes...
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- 1876 reads
Time Killer
We are murderers, you and I, cold-blooded killers of sharpened sticks, that inch slowly forward, stopped dead in their tracks by the stiff hands of time, three hands, yours, and mine,
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- 1280 reads
Song For My Sister
My sister holds mud in her hands, yet the blue dawn sings, the frail sound of lilac tears, spring flourishing in her palm, and falling to the ground to be pecked at by the birds.
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- 1175 reads
Prodigal Sons/Daughters
Ronald McDonald has fourteen children, seven girls and seven boys, and they all shift uncomfortably for the family photo, in the white hot light of a thick golden arch.
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- 958 reads
Hydrogen Jukebox
'who sank all night in submarine light of Bickford's...listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox' Allen Ginsberg, 'Howl'
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- 949 reads
Scene Dream
Wrote this one a while ago and thought I'd try and resurrect it, bit of a surreal stream of consciousness deal, comments/sugggestions welcome!
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- 7 comments
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- 2000 reads
Surreal Poem
I met a tangerine today, it fizzled in my face, sang Mrs. Robinson in Russian, and stormed off into the night, even stranger when you consider the label said she was from Colombia,
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- 1507 reads
Distance
As the night time fades into morning, you can see for a single moment, in the shimmer of distant stars, a subtle trace of things that we will never understand.
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- 1330 reads
We Made This Poem Together
We made this poem together, do you remember? I read you a few lines from Octavio Paz, something about your body being the trace of your body, and you said it was one of the saddest poems
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- 1316 reads
Saturday Night, Sunday Morning
Taxi cab shimmer in the street light glow of a Saturday night, spray painted people like burnt hollow flames licking at the curve of a crumbling pavement, the language of languid sirens
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- 1030 reads
Eyes
Finally got round to writing a second draft for this one, have left my first attempt up so feel free to compare and contrast and let me know what you think...
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- 819 reads
The Light of the Sun
The light of the sun doesn't know what it's doing, at least that's what Alberto says, but if it did stop to think every once in a while, and turned its thoughts over to questions
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- 971 reads
Haiku diary (1-4)
Well if everyone else is doing it... :)
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- 938 reads
I'm In Love with a Girl Called Ellipsis...
I can't seem to stop using ellipses, everywhere I go it's all ... A friend says it lends my correspondence a certain fragmentary quality, constantly deferred, as if everything is consistently
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- 1052 reads
In Love with a Flower
Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose...
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- 881 reads
In Love with a Flower (Part 2)
To stand in front of a flower, and feel the flicker of its eyelash, and see the sun skip like a pebble inside the spaces that sings between us. And the verdure of its leaves,
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- 1034 reads