Constellations are dripping off my fingertips like pulsating raindrops hanging off the edge of the world- When I close my eyes I’m floating on a salty ocean towards a horizon bursting with colours, The hues of honeyed pink glowing in the water and on my warmed skin- Smiling into the Machiavellian arms of denial, But … Continue reading An Astronaut Lost In Space-Constellations
Month: October 2016
The Space Between Optimism and Cynicism
Waking up with shards of sun and light in their happy eyes, Souls that go to sleep and get sweet rest at night – Colours shimmering in a sickening brightness Finding slivers of silver linings in darkness Smiling at strangers and soppy romance Sycophantic flattery – making plans Happiness Falling into bitter, But never getting … Continue reading The Space Between Optimism and Cynicism
World -Weary
The pain in my neck is just about equal to that of my chest; Dull but devastating. Never knowing if I’m numb and feeling nothing, or if I’m drowning in feeling everything- Wave after wave editing me out of existence, Nothing that loves can be infinite. One hit of cynicism and I’m wasted – mouth … Continue reading World -Weary
Silent Energy
The spaces between speeches speak the loudest- the absence of eloquence says the mostest, Long pauses on long days - are like mid-summer rains; lets get drenched in this Turn on that muted switch. Living for the empty spaces where our silent energies collide - Wavelengths of silence and unspoken words, Between the dullest of commas … Continue reading Silent Energy
Everest Isn’t So Big
Climb the paper mountain one word at a time, Just write a goddam poem stop obsessing over rhymes. Stop and watch a sunset- The view from here tastes great. Stop diving into shark-infested oceans, and first learn how to swim Before you can finish that, you have to learn how to begin. Put down the … Continue reading Everest Isn’t So Big
The Room Is Cold
Cold in hues of shivers and chills hang above the unmade bed, Invisible tendrils of bitter seeping into the heavy air. Ice sheets strewn across the grey-white fjords of unkempt. In a slit between the unopened curtains, a brittle shard of light pierces through – And dust twirling like flurries of snowflakes in storms, drift … Continue reading The Room Is Cold
The Price of All of This
Little girls in rose and pearl, lining up to throw themselves at paper feet- Pretty pink ropes around their necks, picking at food, and dropping like flies. Little boys in green and blue, line up, told to throw themselves at little girls, Black chains around their feet, clambering for affection – taught to take love, … Continue reading The Price of All of This
Alicia Jones Poetry 