mewp0ems

[mewp0ems]

excerpt from a poem in progress.

september has me in her jaws

lips pressed pretty to my neck,

. claws

damp with sweat, warm

and wet, lapping against the

. shores of my hips,

[mewp0ems]

Invitation

Oh do you have time to linger for just a little while out of your busy

and very important day for the goldfinches that have gathered in a field of thistles

for a musical battle, to see who can sing the highest note, or the lowest,

or the most expressive of mirth, or the most tender? Their strong, blunt beaks drink the air

as they strive melodiously not for your sake and not for mine

and not for the sake of winning but for sheer delight and gratitude – believe us, they say, it is a serious thing

just to be alive on this fresh morning in the broken world. I beg of you,

do not walk by without pausing to attend to this rather ridiculous performance.

It could mean something. It could mean everything. It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote: You must change your life.

Mary Oliver

[mewp0ems]

- Mary Oliver⁩, "Invitation".

[mewp0ems]

medusa

i am medusa; as a god you should’ve known better leading me to the temple? you- you knew you wouldn’t be punished mortals are flimsy, fragile, easy to break. deities never take any consequences. isn’t this unfair? why should i bear the burden of your bad choice is it so bad? to be naive, innocent of crime, but by default, with you, i am guilty; i have paid my price. i hear hissing everywhere i go i cannot love freely - i know one day you will pay for the crimes you’ve committed, i’ll wait patiently pagan gods always have a downfall. after all, what is a god to a non-believer?

[mewp0ems]

[mewp0ems]

i could love you violently, if i let myself.

[mewp0ems]

diary extract

jan 2023 dear diary, today, i felt full of flies.  i sat next to a girl in class swallowed my anxiety with some water turned to her, and said “hi” i walked home with her after. flies buzzing under my hand desperately gravitating towards hers. lauren wants to go out tonight.  maybe i’ll invite her, too.  dear diary,  she told me her name. i think all the drugs in the world couldn’t get me to forget it. especially the way she said it. she calls me mew. i’ve never liked my name before.  i like the way she says it.  we got caught in a snowstorm last night.  i think i was cold. frankly, next to her, i could freeze to death and feel warmth curling around my wounds. i hope she talks to me tomorrow.  jan 2024 dear diary,  i wish you could meet her. there have been fireflies fluttering through my veins since i met her.  she is the apple eve ate in the garden. i would lick the juice off her fingers without a thought.  she is sunlight on a cold day, mushy fruit in a fruit bowl, smile lines and crows feet. what i am saying is, she is as human as they come.  what i am saying is, i am human with her.  what i am saying is, all i have to be is human with her.  she’s coming into the room now. god, i know i love her.  god, i think she might love me too.

[mewp0ems]

a broken watch

my heart crawls at the sight of you blood dripping through the two claw marked handprints, squeezed blue strangled, broken, bruised yellow paints the corners of the wound purple peeking through i smother it in blood, covering the ruined tender flesh, good as new my heart stinks of marlboro gold smoke curling through the rolled aortas. consider me a chimney, cold black soot in every crevice unfolded.  do you remember the night we spent sprawled on your kitchen floor, bent and folded over each other? my parents hated you. i shrugged it off with every new pendant you bought me.  did you taste my skin like salt when you kissed me? malt whiskey on my tongue, the cobalt red painting my teeth the way you taught me. god, i pray, on my knees you favourite position to see me  in. hands clasped in desperate pleas if it’s meant to be, then it will be.