heroic-poetry - Tumblr blog

[heroic-poetry]

You've Grown on Me

Maybe I was too quick

To judge,

Maybe I didn’t understand you

At first,

Maybe I thought too harshly

Of you,

But you’ve seem to grown

On me.

At first slightly and delicately;

A daisy,

Then faster, twisting up my leg;

A vine,

And most surprising of all;

Like fungus.

Your caps sprouting from my ears

Filtering the words I hear,

Your spores clouding my eyes

Blocking what is truly in front of me,

Your mycelium taking residence in my brain

Making sure I only think;

Of you.

You’ve grown on me.

A parasite grows in its host,

But who is hosting whom?

[heroic-poetry]

[heroic-poetry]

marbles & dominos

—

he told me

not to romanticize the pigeons,

they’re scavengers.

But they know not what they do

like the squirrels who plant trees for me & you

wild woods don’t worry the way we do

and when the sidewalk chalk washed away,

words were even easier to say

.•.peako green•.•

[heroic-poetry]

Blisters from a Magic Lamp

Hands aching Red with friction Fighting the crave My addiction

Tarnished brass Worn with use Scratched and dented My abuse

Still no answer For my call All alone Wanting it all.

[heroic-poetry]

April 2023

Peako Prompts

—

1. blisters from a magic lamp

2. couldn’t keep looking back

3. puddle of wax

4. a life interruption

5. thick line that runs through me

6. felt you on the tips of my fingers

7. bags too heavy to carry

8. but it fell out of me

9. left in the dust

10. quiet music in the hideaway

11. rinsing out the cell

12. a new moon away

13. oxygen to a collapsed lung

14. sharp accusations

15. stuck to the shadows

16. sour soap

17. the key to me

18. instead of the worst case scenario

19. you were my bookmark

.•.peako green•.•

—

Feel free to use the prompts however & whenever you’d like. Use any peako-related tags too. :)

[heroic-poetry]

Goose Shit by Evil Mary Oliver Who Lives in Your Head

You do have to be good. In fact, you have to be perfect. Having even one perturbation will disqualify you from going to the grocery store. You are obligated to walk on your knees  for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting, backwards, in underwear made of red-hot puff adders. You can't let that soft, fallible animal of your body love what it loves.   Are you kidding? Tell me about despair, yours, and keep telling me, and don't stop, or you'll completely explode and go to jail, and then hell. Meanwhile the world goes on without you. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of hailstones are beating down on your head, pouring into the buildings and deep gutters, the corpse-laden mountains and the rivers-- did you read that article about the one that turned bright yellow from pollution? Meanwhile the wild geese, hissing and shitting everywhere will not leave your yard. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, you can always get lonelier! And I can help. I call to you like the wild geese, harsh and intimidating, over and over announcing your place-- oop, sorry, never mind, someone else took it.

[heroic-poetry]

Secret

I don’t care if

you keep me a secret

Like a note tucked away

Into your back pocket

.

I don’t care if

Your finger touches your lips

When my name is mentioned

As long as my lips can follow suit

.

I don’t care if

We only talk in hushed whispers

Because at least I’m getting

To talk to you

.

I don’t care if

You keep me a secret

Because if you keep me

At least I’m yours.

[heroic-poetry]

Burial

I died. I died. So long ago. So bury me in falling snow. No summer grave. Shall be my rest. Cast down in dirt, Bruised and undressed.

I died I died So long ago. Laid by a lake, No sight of snow. Young and fragile, In blood red ground Body discovered, My soul unfound.

I died. i died. So long ago. So bury me In falling snow. My time will come Again one day At peace I’ll be In frost I’ll lay

I died I died So long ago So build me up A pyre aglow A day will break Dusk into Dawn Smoke flashes in air Up to the sun.

I died I died So long ago Drowning on air Nowhere to grow. Muddy tracks, And bloody flesh Wash me with fire And leave me fresh

[heroic-poetry]

Hold me, holy, helpless

Shaking like an earthquake

Like a falling leaf in late

December, dearest, I am

So afraid of who I am and

Who I was and what these

Trembling hands cannot

Carry, I carry on with

Tattered wings full of

Soil, my soul is see-

Through in the sun—

I was an angel, once

[heroic-poetry]

[heroic-poetry]

[heroic-poetry]

I don’t know in what flame

does my heart burn

but I’ve never seen any fire

healing the flesh before.

[heroic-poetry]

[heroic-poetry]

It Stalks

The low August sun,

Not yet painting the clouds,

Letting shadows stretch.

A rustling in the corn

Its stalks towering, reaching,

Ears opened and awaiting.

The sound of two

The endless game,

One hushed, barely breathing

The other silent.

It stalks,

Towering,

Reaching,

Eyes opened and awaiting.

A glint of silver in

The low August sun,

Painting the green stalks

A vibrant red.

The sound of one

The constant conclusion,

Silent, not breathing,

One laughing gleefully.

[heroic-poetry]

Not Icarus

I have my wax wings

Strapped onto my back

I cruise over sea

I cruise under sun

But,

I am not him.

I do not soar

I do not fly

I don’t let my ego

Get the best of me.

I was given

All the warnings

Beware the sea

Beware the sun

But,

I am him.

I still sink

The water

Rushes over me

‘Til I’m not there.

Icarus

Went too high

I did not

I kept low

But,

Weighed down

Sea spray

Sinking

Beneath the waves

Arms failing.

Not my

Ego

No fall

No sun

But,

I

Still

Sank

Complacent

Fearful.

I

Am

Not

Him

But,

I would have rather

Fallen from the sun

Than sank beneath waves

Not knowing how to

Soar.

[heroic-poetry]

Love, Sam

I spoke with him

His smile was bright,

His laugh bubbly

Made me feel light.

Back off he’s mine

Back off he’s mine

Back off he’s mine

Back off he’s mine

Revealed hideout

Up on the hill,

With isolation

Carry me still.

He’s leaving me,

He’s leaving me,

He’s leaving me,

He’s leaving me,

Destined great things,

He needs to stay,

How can I breathe

When he’s away?

You can’t have him

You can’t have him

You can’t have him

You can’t have him

But storms bring doubt.

I’m left to bawl,

Going to meet

Watch as I fall.

How could you B?

How could you B?

How could you B?

How could you B?

[heroic-poetry]

Cliffhanger

I hang onto you

like the last line of a book-

always wanting more.