ThePrettyPoems

    ANNIE and Rhoda woke in the middle of the night to the sound of thunder. Rhoda, who was the youngest, rushed in her pearl nightgown to turn the light and tripped on shoes that Annie had left in the middle of the room. She kicked the boots and they crashed into Annie's music box, a swan. her beloved trinket made a melodic cry when it hit the wood floor. "Can't you be more careful?" Annie rushed to the swan , breathed a huge sigh of relief that it wasn't broken, and wond it up. The soft music of swan lake with the sound of rain on the window. Annie frowned. The swan was titled and the music played a little more slowly. Rhoda looked back at her sister with her light saber flashlight.  "Did you hear that?" "You broke my favorite music box!"  "Hush!! Listen!" The music stopped playing Swan Lake. The plash of rain and the roar of the northeast hurricane was all she heard. Rhoda stared at her sister behind her glowing blue J

  Outside under a curtain of rain, my arms stretched outward I wait for the answer to come. I prayed "Could you make me strong? Could you give me wings?" The wind turned into shards, slashing my arm losing my nerves, a glass sky cascades a sharp waterfall  

  I. I made love out of letters Beginning with “R”   Then piled them up in a basket And called it “our poem.”   Sat watching the meaning hang Itself and fall with a thump   I had nothing really more to go off of, but all the   Rotten apples leaving sweet smells from faraway-   Gave me reason to peer into a different light and notice the precarious end of branches   How high up you are Before –   There are bruises where we left Them just leave that there.   II. Pick up my open hands, remark Why are we always hungry?   The bright ones ruin our jaws spitting apple juice by accident   Laughing that our stomachs hurt in a healthy way   Love is a decision, glorious tasting I didn’t even need a ladder to   Reach between those hidden things called leaves.   You just happened beside me like two seasons.   my poetry chapbook available through etsy: Echoes  support Pretty Poems via Ko-fi    

      i woke up this morning to my boyfriend, naked and asleep facing me with his pelvic bones. i'm topless my round white breasts like a pond covered in lilies and gardenias, only i smell like sex and joints. i remember how mornings used to be mine, and i'd turn over and write three poems in a journal by my bed. the third one was always the best. i miss those poetic mornings, i've been too depressed to write. i thought i should take the time to be honest to myself since last night i thought i was being punished for all my sins i forgot about i hold my swollen belly in my hands my stomach throbbing, hurting inside. i pretended in a sick way - what if you were going to die like this? he says why you could write poems like that still you just don't. and i thought about me dying some more --   my poetry chapbook available through etsy: Echoes  support Pretty Poems via Ko-fi    

 It looks like you've been out here for 4 or 5 days, but you don't even remember setting up camp.  You've been fiddling with the comms praying that we can get a transmission out, so you can track our damn location.  The shimmer that surrounds  are crystal shards that refract light and keep us from getting satellite signals. There's something changing us. You aren't you when you're like this. How'd you get that way? You came back - not in the best shape but you survived the shimmer. "What was it?" I don't know. "What do you mean you don't know, you were there for a month. Was it carbon based? All we got was radio silence."   my poetry chapbook available through etsy: Echoes    support Pretty Poems via Ko-fi

 Before the wreck, dark purple circles under her eyes, the hospital bed, recovery, the exile we enjoyed ice cream on a cloudy day.   She said, before her jaw was smashed down her throat, the semi brake failure, her beloved camera in smithereens in the passenger seat, “Let’s be happy.”   Carpet sand, it’s hard to dig a hole without a shovel, seagulls land perfect, shell chips, skinny bitch, I’ll sit on the shore not really knowing any more where the horizon is.   “If only you knew how beautiful you were.”   After the wreck I could not recognize my friend, bringer of Delhi morsels, blunts, the secret charm bracelet dangles in front of my eyes not mine sex lines a jade elephant  “I didn't want to break your heart.”   A secret division, how did I perceive the truth, was it The Truth, Who’s IT when everyone comes out of hiding?   "It looks like you've seen a ghost." Damn motives. Evidence. It's the 21st century, every person hides behind a digital encryption, if I wro

  Like the way a leaf Falls. Trembling. On the verge before its Slow goodbye departure. Grateful to finally rest On this floor Where the leaf Kisses and kisses From sheer delight that its fragile body Can lay in love like this. my poetry chapbook available through etsy: Echoes  support Pretty Poems via Ko-fi  

  I read a hundred poems by now. Looking for A couple drags off a cigarette, some secret truth, Yesterday, and a bowl of oranges. I only needed to sleep tangled with him. My right thigh Between his plaid legs, his occasional snore, and if he Woke up unexpectedly, through the daze he’d kiss my lips. The cool dark shade of a coming night I needed. Words for air and thoughts and loving, I need those. I’ve read a thousand poems, I’m so far. Looking for a way To say this sometimes, the moon has a laughing face. But his eyes are closed like seals twirling a tight Water bundle of sense and premonition. If you look at the sea With your own face you’ll find a reflection of a hilarious moon. I sleep in hope That he’ll recite an epic dream of those joking constellations and the comedy of life as we sleep away in hope And love - "I needed to sleep with you,"   my poetry chapbook available through etsy: Echoes  support Pretty Poems via Ko-fi  

    They curl like ivy around each other In the backseat of her car (that’s all she can afford right now) Everything is in the back Suitcases, elephants, Risk, her college books, Her id badge, no bible, his skateboard, his Handheld games, Art of War, The Decline of the Roman Empire, and all the blankets cover that up like snow If it was winter at the gate. No one turns back, I notice How clingy ivy is. You remember once someone warned you. "Leaves of three, let it be."   my poetry chapbook is available on etsy: Echos  support Pretty Poems via Ko-fi  

    "I search for a word, the word, one word." I looked back, I'm sorry, at all those old love poems To listen to how they made your heart strike. I imagined what it was like when I first gave you that poem- Now I don't feel right reading between the lines for a sign to tell me where we are. "I barely touch you." My heart is aching for your soul, when we were cold we held onto each other; I miss your hands. I can't tell any more what I mean to say, for I can't think of anything but that face of yours and be sad over it. My love "You're collections like pieces of the sun to stare into, and eyes watery with tears you remember." I stared for hours into that empty sky for two escaping birds. Lover 1: (whispers) "Sometimes I feel like crying." Lover 2: "Me too."   my poetry chapbook available through etsy: Echoes  support Pretty Poems via Ko-fi