The Grass is Black/The Air is Pink

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feel me/read me/follow me

Devotion

Was it Love? That made me follow
you into darkness…
So long ago it seemed, I recognized
ME in the mirror… before I broke
the glass, trying to find you

My fingertips bled, as I tried to
put my life back together… I
bandaged my heart but it soon came
apart… I glued my¬† soul whole,
but once I shed a tear, it quickly
dissolved…

Don’t you want to Love me?
Lie naked with me? See my eyes
under the moonlight? Sit next to
me in your car?
Don’t you WANT my love?

written: June 26, 2013

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., life, regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love

2013: 365

my morning coffee should
wake you
soaked into my lips
I’ll give you a kiss…
my dear, my sweetheart
I know you adore me
‘cuz you’ve set me on fire
to light up the night

surprise me with lunch one day
soup, then bananas and a Stella Artois
I’ll smoke only on Wednesdays
after the deer start to wander
in the park
and they start to dance with each
other

Sunday is the Lord’s day; the day to
write poems and anonymous letters
the day to drink Earl Grey tea
when darkness falls, I’ll put on a
dress and my gold earrings and
walk the streets in search of your love…

written: January 9, 2013

-emmjaepenniman

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., la vie poesie, life, poetry, regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love, Uncategorized, ,

Thinking of YOU

I thought of you mid- December
when we had met years ago
in late summer…

Today is Tuesday
Today is the last day
Today is the day that I…

I start this story with a line-
a lie-
“we were in love from the beginning”
I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying
therefore losing
myself in you

Time for tea, time for two
to dance the night away;
in a life long dream

written: December 11, 2012

-emmjaepenniman

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., la vie poesie, life, poetry, regarding myself, , ,

crazy for your love…

sharp pains,
like love lost
in the pit of
my stomache
my beloved
churning,
and churning
with a jagged
knife

I love you
therefore
I want to love
you, and so,
I want to kill you
and eat your heart
beating loudly,
your blood dripping
off my chin…

hold me close
hold me tight
DON’T EVER LET
GO
just spin me,
around, and around…

written: December 11, 2012

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., la vie poesie, life, poetry, regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love, Uncategorized

L-O-V-E?

what a charm he has
that man

I obsess
over him
like mad

I’ve stalked
him
I know his
age and name;
his address;
phone number;
blood type

Here, as I write
about this man
and with all his info
that I’ve gathered
it does’nt hit me
once
that he’s ignorant
to my existence…

written: August 13, 2010

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., life, regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love, ,

( I saw you last night…) Rumi

I saw you last night in the gathering,
but could not take you openly in my
arms,

so I put lips next to your cheek,
pretending to talk privately.

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., life, poetry, regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love, Uncategorized,

Schedule

At nine in the morning
I sweat for you
on a tower of books that’s my “to-read” pile
thinking of the only two poets I’ve met
in my life
not this life, but the one before this one where trees grew and never fell
where children laughed and never cried

At two in the afternoon
I am bleeding for you
from behind my ears
where you’ve kissed so many times
during the month of July
when we could’nt have sex
so we fucked instead

At around midnight
while my tea dreams in sugar
my poets are awake, my poems are asleep
I eat a star for you
so that you know I’m devoted
to our union
the star explodes inside of me
but it’ still not you

written: October 10, 2011

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., la vie poesie, life, poetry, regarding myself

Because of Cupid…

I tied the laces around my heart
until blood squirted out
a whole cup full, to the rim

It was a gift, to whom
I’m not sure and I did’nt really care
and I still don’t

As I was about to finish the knot
I began to cry and inevitably,
I began tasting my tears and even
now my fear returns because my tears
were so sweet
Too sweet, they crippled me
I could’nt make it to my front door
without coughing
I could’nt walk down the street
without falling
I could’nt open the mailbox
with my fingers crumbling from
pain!

I don’t know where I am now,
all I see is red
I feel the whole in my chest
and even more I feel the pain
that my heart left behind…
Did you ever find me?
Did you ever get my gift?
Did you close my eyes with your
fingertips?
Did you finally kiss me on the lips?
Did you ever know how much I loved you?

written: February 13, 2012

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., life, that crazy,little thing called love, Uncategorized, , , ,

Conjure

I sing my heart out
in my lover’s bed, because I’d like to
spend the night
He leaves the room to get us beers and I lay on his side of the bed, staring at my reflection

I pour my heart out
in the moon’s night, because as the
stars, I’d like to shine
I stay up into the next day, cradling
insomnia in my veins, thinking of
coffee at noon, the waves of Lake Michigan roaring in my ears

I tear my heart out
in the middle of the year, because I’m so in love, I’d like to sacrifice
I light a pink candle, say a little prayer
and eat ice cubes for two days while my raw, beating heart bleeds on his doorstep…

written: January 5, 2012
(The first poem I wrote in 2012)

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., life, regarding myself, that crazy,little thing called love, Uncategorized, , ,

Voyeur-Liar-Poetess

the doorknob was loose
the doorknob to my room
through that round hole in the door
my secrets ran into the world
into the lives of complete strangers
(beautiful strangers, but STILL, UNknown)

the strangers were whores
the strangers were sick
I watched them every night through
that round hole in the door
to find them
doing absolutely nothing
reading, making Love and drinking tea
at midnight
(I wrote poems about their actions,
about a thousand pages; did’nt sell
one copy)

the poems were nothing spectacular
the poems did’nt really exist
though being a voyeur, I fabricated
a lie of being a worthless poetess
who wrote a bunch of poems that
no one ever read
(maybe at the library, where all of the
books are dead)

written: March 14, 2010

Filed under: desire,desire,desire..., la vie poesie, life, poetry, regarding myself, Uncategorized