Search

aayoung

Poetry, Prose, Art, Photography, Random Shit

Category

poetry

a magic day he passed my way

maybe i could fall asleep if you would sing to me

he said, sweetly

settling under my chin

so i

who refuse to sing

allowed a nat king cole lullaby

nature boy

to fall gently from my lips

that is how i know he is the only one for me

there was a boy…

a very strange, enchanted boy…

they say he wandered very far, very far

over land and sea…

my poetry waits quietly in my pocketbook

happiness is
turning my moments
of inspiration
into
stream-of-consciousness
Pinterest sessions
where one may choose
cakes made from edible flowers
lavender lovely
make wedding centerpieces
from hemp rope,
vintage coffee sack burlap,
and the discarded
quilt pieces of the
Daughters of the American Revolution
my poetry waits quietly
in my pocketbook
content in my joy
encouraging me
to be my own woman
a connoisseur of literature
a goddess of wine
Dionysus triumphant
a suburban expatriate
who refuses to put a rug
on her toilet lid
born to a people who do

See Rock City

how far man has come
from the moment
we were a trillionth the size
of a mote of dust
sunbeam suspended
matter dancing out of existence on
antimatter stripper poles
super heated
into the biggest bang ever to blow
horny comets
into hadrons of extinct dinosaurs
dead shopping malls
kamikaze day traders
perched atop
financial district temples
sky diving down to
urine caked sidewalks
radicalized soccer moms
suicide bomb drum majors
high stepping into
Russian voting booths
and sheepy suburbanites
willing to eat hot artichokes

simply because…it’s tuesday

there are moments when the house

aches with his absence

as do i

my frank sinatra singing in our shower

i find myself sweetly seeking him

feet sliding into his house slippers

fingers slowly uncapping his beard oil

the tines of his sandalwood comb

face burrowed into his pillow

the scent of his shirt collar against my lips

not because he’s been gone long

because i have never felt love like this before

simply because…it’s tuesday

 

 

 

 

 

no substitutions, please…

shame comes staggering

unwelcome

through the bedroom door

when i consider the horrors

i once chose

to call love

city confidential

i’m guilty
of compartmentalizing
my life
no one will know each other
at my funeral
Robert Stack will narrate
the unsolved mysteries
there will be several unknown
oddly distraught
handsome gentlemen
friends from all over
and family
who will conduct it
like a senate hearing

no elegy

no elegy

for me, please

i plan to die

with laugh lines

contentment & vine

when you find the corner

of contentment & vine

chaos comes as a dark-eyed lover

yellow cab splashing

through the crosswalk puddle

leaving you nothing but dripping regrets

and the keys to an apartment building

still burning

uprooted

you can sit at a table

drinking wine

palms flat to the wood

without remembering

that table was ever a tree

but my heart will never forget

it bled for you

once

Up ↑