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Literature Text
before he led me like a lamb
to the altar,
he got me drunk.
take this and eat, he said,
hands on my hipbones,
soft thighs, soft sigh
for this is my body -
but he gave me no bread, only
bruises, and he gave me
new thorns for my head
and i bled
till sunday morning.
tell me:
who speaks of resurrection?
are you there,
mary magdalene?
mary, when
will easter come?
to the altar,
he got me drunk.
take this and eat, he said,
hands on my hipbones,
soft thighs, soft sigh
for this is my body -
but he gave me no bread, only
bruises, and he gave me
new thorns for my head
and i bled
till sunday morning.
tell me:
who speaks of resurrection?
are you there,
mary magdalene?
mary, when
will easter come?
Literature
things I never told you.
some poems feel like water.
this one is more like sand,
and I'm suffocating in the maw
of a desert that was better left
rusting its clairvoyance.
it started one night when I remembered
that I've kept everything you've ever given me:
roses, faces, promises.
I never really understood
how to let things go,
and when the thought of
turning the things you'd touched
away from my doorstep
choked the poetry from my throat,
I realized why.
I keep reminding myself that
I should probably be nicer to you,
but I think you already know
that I'm only capable of being nice
when I'm cornered and out of ideas.
and despite what you claim,
you've never been
Literature
How to love a poet:
Expect them to be flawed,
a field of wild flowered-
imperfections, sticky
metaphors
& an inability
to speak.
Love them anyway.
Know that when they look at you
they are noticing the little things.
Your smile,
the sound of your voice,
the laugh lines—
bruises.
Know
Literature
Unforgettable
Five years of us
learning each other,
loving each other,
before we took our vows
and began anew.
Twenty hours of travel
was well worth it.
The paradise we found
in that faraway land
took my breath away.
Twelve days
of celebration.
Just us,
and a cabin in the rain forest
overlooking a black sand beach.
Our pale skin pinked under the Costa Rican Sun,
the burn soothed under a cloudless sky.
We watched glimmering stars,
brighter in the absence of city lights.
Transformed
by foreign tongues and familiar arms.
An experience with no parallel.
Taking our commitment
and testing it
making it stronger.
I hiked on slippery rocks
to get to that speci
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well-written about a subject hard to express. I had a bad experience with someone I trusted, and the religious themes somehow got mixed into my processing of events, which makes this poem speak more to me than others.