so come on and dance with me
we can have fun on the shores of the sea.
we watched the sun set slowly
on the bay and on “us”
we watched the light fade from our love
we watched it die and let the flame go out
and now all i can think about is how we sat on the sand
hand in hand
and we talked about how far we would go for one another
even to a foreign land
and now here we are
nothing more than a memory,
nothing more than a theory
never to be tested, never to be true.
here i am, still missing you.
Winter, I am waiting so eagerly for you.
When will you snatch these skies so blue?
When will you send down your rain and sleet
I’m waiting, I’m hoping, I’m sick of this heat
My body needs you, my soul needs you more
I want you to freeze me right to the core
Send down your snow and your winds so strong
Come back to England, where you belong
This heat is a bitch, tell it to leave
It’s suffocating me, I’m struggling to breathe
Send me your water, strip down the trees
Winter, oh winter, rain all over me.
You taught me
Never trust anybody
With sharp teeth
Because they only ever use it
To eat your heart out
Those with wicked smiles
Will always have wicked smiles
They couldn’t change it if they tried
I wonder if you eat her heart out
Just like ate mine
I wonder if she likes it
With her heart between your teeth
She drank from a bottle called DRINK ME
And up she grew so tall,
She ate from a plate called TASTE ME
And down she shrank so small
And so she changed, while other folks
Never tried nothin’ at all.
When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer
When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide
and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with
much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’ d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
the jubate, resolute magma people
threading loudness through sallets
with horn blasts
those inflamed microlights
beaux of Mars
as they soar through crowds
with their lava touch
© Agnieszka Mauch
the fury of entitlement
a hatchet looking for love
the trajectory of a bomb.
to disown oneself
I am not societies mirror
I will not be tolerated in flesh.
a shoe drops
a sun sets
I have no place
What a thing,
to be both starving and empty.
To ache for love—
to take the scraps from it’s table,
and yet, run sickly from the feast.
You can’t fathom why I’d
gobble your kisses but
duck your attention, please.
Some of us have gone so long
the idea of being full
than the affliction.