Poetry poetry storage - updated randomly

[hurrystarfish]

oc perspective poetry | #1​

My glasses are green.

The light is red,
It's always red.
Glaring and round,
and obvious to everyone
Who aren't focused
on deciphering
their own
FUCKING STOP.

It's been red, since I met you,
Since you caught me
on that stage,
making me think
I caught you in
my audience.

You
caught
me.

When first you leaned in
and smiled at me
like you knew me,
you touched my hand.
Hands that prayed
every day
and had touched someone other than I.
An other than I
you never thought
fit to let me know about.

In that smooth touch,
you left something in my grip,
Glasses.
Night by night,
I wore them.
They got closer to my irises.
Like the sun coming
to burn them alive,
or the seasalt
stinging at the sockets.

Hair that sticks flat,
Silent, a body that sinks and then floats back up,
A bruise over my eye from the way down.

The light was red.
It was always red.
But you always knew
how to make me 'go',
how to make me believe,
the light was still green.

 

[hurrystarfish]

You know what?
Life is pretty fucking cool.
We get light from the sky,
And sure it's a bit too bloody warm
Like we've been in the oven too long,
But it's an excuse
for setting up a thing and a pool
And inviting people you never talk to over
And having a laugh
A drink
Kids who weren't friends before
MEAT
Or not meat if that's your thing

Or just a seat
And a book that can keep you there
Till the sky is pink,
And the rush from the sky
That feels just right
and turns the oven off
is everywhere.
We saw ice and decided we'd dance on it,
And dance like we were made of art itself,
Cause I suppose we are,
Which can be pretty fucked too.
But it's still artistry.

The grass is cut and satisfaction comes free from the stalks,
And there's oxygen everywhere,
And it's enough to let us live.
I know the thing I'm using to type this
Is a topic about as heated as the damn oven,
But it's still pretty cool.
A pretty silver screen
Where I can write my funny little words
Without my hands cramping because of the pen poking
the line of skin between my thumb and the finger
I'd use to poke and tease, all in good fun.
And it lets us see little slivers of joy,
Everywhere
Always
If we just look for them.

In piles of leaves in the park
you haven't kicked.
In videos of Olympians being sweet
when you don't even care about sports.
In being reminded of ICE SKATING.
I want to go watch the Moulin Rouge ice skating video again.
In being next to people who give you hugs,
and remind you they still want you.

I don't know why I wrote this.
I just like remembering that the world
Can still make me happy.
Those are the little things that made me happy today.

 

[hurrystarfish]

Half mumbles when I'm asleep,
Half mumbles when I'm awake,
Lying on my back,
My eyes half lidded.

The urge to do something,
Like typing this up,
Because if I didn't
I'd do nothing.

All because of that veil,
That veil of drowsiness,
Not enough to sleep,
Not enough to be busy.

I don't like not being busy,
Especially when there's things to be busy with,
Things to type,
Things to brainstorm.

Hope this helps.
Starting with watching
A cute short,
To get the wheels turning.