bliss | poem

sunrise and a breeze, the bliss of their kiss, upon skin covered loosely in silk and satin. sunrise and a breeze, the bliss of the dewy grass under golden flats, the air smelling of crushed roses and soil. sunrise and a breeze, the bliss of the book that sits between knees, waiting to be read…

Age of Ages | Poem

Stone way of feeling Bronze way of reacting Medieval way of perception, rather how we are perceived, Industrial way of seizing (Did we miss something from how we felt and how we reacted?) What is our way now? It is: the expanding balloon of the human mind, the mind we all share if shared with…

crooked brain | poem

I feel it in my head it’s not centered it inches to the left maybe that’s why I feel so… Today I will try to center it. ~ Sammicakes

purpose | poem

not infinite, yet so vast the time upon us is uncountable and magnificent not entirely free to act on our own accord, but sufficient enough to progress never enough time, ability, or will to craft the desired vision of our person but in the constraints one can find purpose as in the murkiest of waters…

Plight of Obsession | Poem

the phoniest of flattery the most lascivious of lies the cacophony of coquettish ramblings: all are the plights of an unreciprocated obsession, not born out of love, but of rabidly ill intent. ~ Sammicakes

Cottagecore | Poem

Pheasants and finches sun-dappled meadows and delicate wishes fulfilled by the dream of self-isolation. Not yet nostalgic not yet the present but instead a dream idyllic that a more kind world would let come to fruition. ~ Sammicakes

Sonderlust | Poem

Visions of sonder that transpire down yonder traveling around the block again. Tip the man with his scuffed, cuffed pants, and wait until the moment is your friend. Sidewalks are busy, the yellow dresses and loose shirts dancing, while the wind plays a mellifluous tune. Night soon falls, all lilac and dark and still. And…

lavender and blackberry sleep | poem

slip into consciousness at the touch of cotton soft skin and contrasting fingertips. eye the waving sultry curls of blond against brown locks, after closing the satin blinds, drawing in closer the four walls, existence beyond glistening and diminishing into small nothingness. the nothingness slips away, slips away, slips away… understand the importance of this…

train at six | poem

tie your laces feel the beads of sweat stuck to your skin look at the slowly sinking afternoon sun the harsh feel of crushed rock beneath your exposed knee and then hear the sound– that sound you had only ever heard in the stillness of deep night hear the train tremble on its track some…

nails in the brain | SoCs poem

Good morning, everyone! This stream of consciousness poem is written for Linda G. Hill’s SOC Saturdays with the prompt as “nails.” I hope you all enjoy! ~ dull metal stabs the soft tissue of my fleshy, futile organ, puncturing it over and over, until all the life, all the intelligence, all that power I thought…