Friday, September 12, 2014

The Happy Couple | Death Poem by Alysia Harris


There will come a day when the fear of death
Will be the favourite joke passed amongst corpses
And they are already laughing
My love please don’t be afraid
But there will come a day when field mice play
In our empty sockets. When our bones
Become homes for living creatures
Other than our egos
And when time jostles our skeletons
Out of the composition that is me
And you
And will write with us love letters that spell…
I owe you Eternity
If we believe in life after death
Then I often wonder why
We assume the dead like coffins
When people were never meant to live in boxes
So I pray that our children have the good sense
To leave us a little wiggle room
Leave us exposed like stray dogs in a thunderstorm
And I will hear the breeze but not know it as the breeze
And I will feel the rain but not know it as the rain
And I will behold the sky but not know it as the sky
Instead I will hear the breeze and think it’s your love
Returned into the hearth of my ears
And I will feel the rain and think it is the pinprick of your kiss
And when the rain is tender I will know that something has softened you
And when the rain is violent I will know something has shaken you
And in this newfound understanding without eyes or ears…or hands…or lips
Our bare bones will make love in the dirt never knowing our nakedness
Imagine!
The wind coursing through a calligraphy of weeds.
In our disrepair we have grown garden of ourselves
Sprouts of curious grass shooting from my eye sockets
Our knuckles, hard, smooth skipping stones
Meant for child’s play
And the devilish sun picking its way through your missing teeth
And neither one of us can keep from smiling these days
And the days go unnoticed
And the nights go unslept
And we talk with our souls
Through the holes in our ribs
Where organs once sat
Imagine!
Your skull and mine reduced to grins
Both washed clean of our skins
And our sins
Growing young again
Forgetting why we ever wrinkled
Why we ever furrowed our brows
With the plow of anger become
Become dust with me
Insignificant in every way
I will love you
Even after your marrow has become a whisper
In your bones
Nothing but a snickering of gravel
Let us soak in these spaces
Our shadows left behind
Your skeleton laced with mine
And I will tie your soles to my ankles
And know what it’s like to step into a dream
And you will try on my backbone
And see how bad it hurt
The day you said you were calling it quits
I don’t remember why you left
Or why you came back
I don’t know how many years have passed
Not really sure years passed at all
All I know is the rain falls you kiss me
Like a rainfall
The sun it bleaches us clear and every day is a romance
All this to say
All this to say we are already laughing
There is a wedding of earthworms and pebbles waiting
When our tuxedo skeletons no longer fit
There is a place for our faces to lie
Planted beside forever smiling
There is the place where we can be still
And in love
There exists a place where we can
Still be in love
Just two gentle skulls.


Tuesday, September 09, 2014

HYPERGRAPHIA

 
The urge to write nudges me
From sleep, in spite
The grumbling becomes me
Coy terse interruptus
Baying for a fight
Razor-sharp quills
Precursor to red blood spills
Pen bar sword, flexes his might
Leaving me befuddled at all
—the fuss




 

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