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Searching for the SunI.

The day everything ended, she was standing in a parking lot, weary from a long day of departures and destinations, staring up at the sky. Clouds strolled west, their armfuls of grey dripping out of their grasp and spattering onto the asphalt, onto her upturned face. They rolled and crashed into one another, piling up high in the stratosphere like mountains of cottony stone. Once, they had been at war, and their arguments had sliced across the countryside with the recklessness of a summer fire. Now, though, something had calmed them. Perhaps they were tired from their travel like her, or perhaps it was the sun, gently wedging them apart wi
Coffee StainsAnd dress shoes click on the streets laid slick with cinnamon and wasted air
It's sugar on your lipstick, darling; a dangerous affair.

You chose coffee
Like you chose romance
Just for the idea of romance; cream and smoked wood swirling around in your cup,
And steam curling up into the atmosphere like the locks in his hair.

Crushed, bitter,
Tantalisingly dark and hauntingly aromatic
You craved it
You mocked the raven that eyed you from its branch out in the blustering courtyard and
You didn't even like the taste.

The silver curve of the teaspoon showed your warped reflection like a deathly omen
It showed the line of your neck and e
chokeI collect things
they may resemble some of your traits
or be loosely associated to those things
that moved you,
I worship these little cadavers,
they rot out my heart,
send me to an earlier grave.

I collect things
and become them,
dirty artifacts to guide me through
life,
dirty emsembles to bless these
storms.

But
I'm going to get over you
for once and for all
and
collage new collections
to richer
the consequences.
the eyepatch and the handcuffs     his hands have promised
     to wipe off every fingerprint
     your last lover left on you

     he has sworn he will
     wear gloves, when he needs to,
     and pay attention to the instructions on the boxes

     "this side up"
     and "fragile"

     and you have sworn
     you will try to let him

     i hear your bodies whispering these things to each ot
having been a babyI am wine dried

on empty cups, made drunk by

what place the light has ever slept,

ever nestled my hand as an instrument

in your hand, I can not sleep

through a second language, I can not

limit the truth of expanding, of feeling

like the room is happy to have us
saudadeLast week, you showed up with the thunder on my doorstep.

Your voice was so drenched with the rain that I almost didn't recognize the way you said my name. It hung in the air like an incomplete sentence, like something unfamiliar, like you were so lost from trying to find everything we left behind and piece it back together that you couldn't find me in your heart anymore. It was pouring and the power was out and I was so tired of watching the world fall apart from outside my windows that I let you back inside my arms and inside my senses, and your bones were shaking as you clung to me and told me how good it felt to come back home.

There wa
Starting Over, Growing UpI was sick of the pink,
It was on every wall,
And every accent color
Was more pink.

I wanted white
A clean slate
The color of a new life
A new beginning

I asked you to help
We wore old jeans
Ripped band shirts
Nothing we minded ruining.

Me, being cautious,
I let you go on the ladder
And rip down the lights
A pink chandelier

We stripped the walls
And brushed over them
Using a massive paint roller
We turned the walls white.

I threw out the pink bedspread,
Tore up the pink carpet,
Ripped down the pink blinds
And pink valences.

Three weeks later
We sat back to back
In my new room
All white.

This was a beginning
The st
everyone is a sociopath with a vitamin deficiencymy parents never beat me
and look how I turned out: cracked ribs
fractured pelvis
blood in my urine

finally lost my baby teeth

but there's no love without blood and you
do not dream in hourglasses
rusty wind and
ferris wheel cages
to watch the gauze fall untaped
on the kitchen floor and
I am itchingscratchingbleeding time
profusely and it falls off me like sawdust with every
turnaround or
shakemyheadno but
I still stand still with knees dovetailed and
head cocked down
to watch the wood shavings
pile at my shins like suitcases

you always want more
so when I felt the fault lines in your wrists
start to tremble
I took that
StripUndressing
we are either
children or ancients:

shedding clothes we
become classical
gradually,

stark
white marble
archetypes

young again and
with a little
of that

old fire in us,
the hungry reverence
for smooth and impersonal

beauty
that has
launched ships and moved mountains,

some sort of
sacred geometry
in the bones.

Undressing
we become aware of what is huge and terrifying,
the blank expanse

of our own skins,
the flesh that belongs
to myth and to history

and not to us,
not to keep
as if upon dying

we slip into nothing,
the body
remains.

Undressing
we are suddenly
laid bare

suddenly
discovered
fragile a
For Those Who LivedWalking dim-lit places
   in a minds-eye nation
I can but imagine; those who lived

Gnarled hands, their cracked and broken skin
Adorned with scars and jagged nails
Still flecked with darkened blood – the gore of viscera
Stripped from prey

Ruddy children
Hardly less weathered and sparse than their elders
Make play with stick and stone and bits of bone
To shunt aside the thoughts of hunger
   – a long three days
Their mothers scrape and chew those last-meal pelts
For cord and comfort at the coming winter

One crippled clansman sits, a watchman on a knoll
Spies the weary band afar, rejoicing in their load
His herald'
HeartmindWe lost electricity on the night you left me
and I spent the night curled up against the rain,
drinking in the slack of damp green winds
in our treasured driftwood home of mist.
I had to come to think of time
as a medium and my thoughts as
imperfect and cursive. It was a wrinkled medium,
a mediocrity of sunken breath: words condensing
into droplets that so contorted my teary lenses
that I couldn't tell that you were turning towards me

with a sound, the sound a book makes
when its leaves are rustled against the grain.
Tonight my body lingers on the edge of the ocean
like a gasp; New Jersey's throaty highways
bear my rosefelt thou
Metastasis98.00

Autumn is the season when everything dies.

The leaves shrivel up and your lungs go with them, tiny dejected organs drying out inside your sternum, crinkling under our footsteps. The doctors pronounce their diagnosis as the leaves fall, listing medical terms and percentages and something about medication options.

The disease is metastatic: it has bored its way out of your lungs and into your bones. Dissatisfied, it's going for your organs, your liver, your heart. The prognosis says Christmas is a pipe dream, likely as the sun ceasing to set.

You promise it anyway.

94.00

November comes and I am a fish, breathing through makeshift gi
Alive Like Dirt-

Winter vanished, a dream
Minutes after having woken;
The imprint and the lines
Still crisscrossing the edges
Of thought, retreating at my
Touch. It was important.
           I think.
                      I thought.
Though, I've lost it now.
           Am reeling now.

I reached out, five distinct
Points forming a living symbol.
           A tool.
 &
Puddled GasolineHear me read it!  Puddled Gasoline

Someone left the car on
with the garage door closed again;
mother-of-pearl rainbows
streak the harsh winter concrete
as I breathe past the fumes.

Your son,
forgetful seventeen
at its finest,
blares Grunge
or Punk
or some other form of noise
I'm not familiar with.

He will not hear me screaming
when I tug open the door
and you spill out like a puddle
onto my freshly-buffed shoes,
because I will not be screaming
at all.

For the first time
in almost twenty years of marriage,
you've silenced me.
One Day I Shall Lay Down And Dieone day i shall lay down and die

and so for now here is my kiss, my golden-ness,
my forehead pressed against yours
like two strange animals lost on a plain of
red sand. one day i shall lay down and die so
now here, let these birds pick me apart,

show you it all, the torn underwear
and the girl gazing at the soft glow
on trees, the ferocious lion-love
weeping under the kitchen table. one day
i shall lay down and die

so for now i feast on beaches, your breath,
the flutter of my dress sore against my skin
someday i will find that peace,
plant a spring-flower deep in my heart, land one last cool kiss
on the bow of your mouth and sl
Browse More Like This

More from ~Satah

fundamental frequency     oh, lover

    -- and i am sorry,
    as ever,
    for calling you that--

    your voice still rings
    unlike any other
    through any amount of wall
    or space

    its cadence and tone
    turning my head
    as if you were screaming my name
    over and over

    but if anything is
    over
    it's our days
    of name-screaming

    so with all apologies
    for my terms of endearment,
    i beg you, my love,
    to please be careful
    where you speak

    because every small vibration
    of your throat
    is tectonic plates shifting
    under my feet
quod erat demonstrandum     cyanide and sharpie fumes
    seem out of place
    metres away from stretching joggers

    but here i am

    looking sad
    on a beached anchor
    with a cigarette in the hand
    that isn't diggings its claws
    into my thigh

    while a stranger lays on a towel
    pulling his knees
    up to his bare chest
    exhaling carefully
    with his ribs sticking out

    he says,
    "peaceful day,
    isn't it?"

    and i comment
    on how unseasonable it is

    and we sit in our different worlds
    with our headphones off
    in quiet appreciation of the company

    and i know it's such a ti
it is the west, and you are the moon     the sun is setting
     and soft light spills in
     to rest in the cup
     of your cheekbones
     like my breath fills the dip in your collar

     overflowing and rolling like fog
     over the early-morning meadow of your chest

     so that i have to kiss
     down your ribs
     and rest my lips on your navel
     to breathe it all in

  

Featured in Groups

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blue baby blues

:iconsatah:

i.
     peacock feathers of smoke
     brush over my calves

     the plumage working its way
     through the stockings & skin
     to nestle into the muscle

     where it will root like an acorn
     and grow into an oaken pair of wings

     to lift my feet from hardwood floors
     so i can dance
     with my knuckles brushing against the ceiling fan

ii.
     my heels rocketed from the floorboards,
     crushing my body against the whirling blades

     leaving a tremor that fights my hands
     as i measure tea with tiny metal spoons
     & ease the leaves into a hemp bag

     coconut and lavender rooibos all over the kitchen counter,
     unexplainable face twitches, and achey shoulders

3,049

136 29 722
:iconsatah:

blue baby bluesby ~Satah

DescriptionDetailsShare
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don't do drugs, stay in school, ask your parents before going online

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Category: Literature / Poetry / Human Nature / Free Verse

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Submitted on
April 8, 2012
File Size
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3,049
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Daily Deviation

Given 2012-05-01
blue baby blues by *Satah ( Featured by $wreckling )
love 1 1 joy 1 1 wow 0 0 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconalecbell:
*AlecBell May 7, 2012
Congratulation, Satah! A YouTube video from alien dimensions.
Reply
:iconsatah:
~Satah May 8, 2012
that is my fav description ever; thanks alec!!
Reply
:iconalecbell:
*AlecBell May 8, 2012
:heart:
Reply
:iconbearberry915:
~bearberry915 May 3, 2012  Student General Artist
Wow, this is a very beautiful piece of poetry! I'm not sure if I am interpreting it right but the flow of words makes it very relaxing to read. If you have the time, I would love it if you could explain this to me.
Reply
:iconsatah:
~Satah May 4, 2012
aw, thankyou. not too too much to explain!! just basically a couple of images that got stuck in my head that it seemed possible to link together. the first bit was written while smoking before a party, and the second bit was written after the party activities had destroyed my body a bit. bookending a night, or whatever.
Reply
:iconbearberry915:
~bearberry915 May 4, 2012  Student General Artist
Ah, thank you, it explains a lot. :D
Reply
:iconlillypop420:
Mood: Joy ~Lillypop420 May 2, 2012
You give great advice & poetry!! Lovely!
Reply
:iconsatah:
~Satah May 2, 2012
ahah, thankyou! :heart:
Reply
:iconrezalba:
~Rezalba May 1, 2012
speechless
<3 it
Reply
:iconsatah:
~Satah May 1, 2012
:heart:!!
Reply
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