Poetry Collection

Because it is nice to have all of this in one place.

21 June 2013:
Poem #7

I know that it's just ink
as I play my game of
writing stories -
these wicked smudges on my hands:
black, blue, and faded purple,
the dangers of using another hand
- but
I can't stop breathing hard
when I see them and know
that the stories I make up
can compare nothing to what
I know
the true horrors are.

2013 (c) Summer Fenwick
24 May 2013:
Poem #6

Thoughts churn over and over like butter
thickening, slickening, in such
strange ways. Hard to grip better
and slip from my mind through my mouth much.
My tone suggests they are full of salt -
Sharp on the tongue, alarming the senses,
but no more than creamy milk malt
chocolate that runs so pensieve
from the depths of your own.
I'm surprised.
So many people like salt on their vegetables
so why do they sugar their meat so fine?

2013 (c) Summer Fenwick
22 May 2013:
Poem # 5

There is a lot that I need to say
but when I speak no words come out
and because I'm silent, you push away
thinking between us there's no doubt.
Sitting, stewing, mentally screaming
my mouth is dry with salty crusts
Yank, spit, vomit, tears streaming
It's deep down inside me and it's just
burning; it is burning me alive
Throw the water, put it out before
it all turns to ash, it all turns to dust.
it all turns to ash, brittle black bones
and nobody knows how hard I tried.
and nobody knows how loud I cried.
As you push it deeper down my throat
Salty jagged edges down my throat.

2013 (c) Summer Fenwick

20 May 2013:Blast from the Past #1

All deaths I could endure would you sing me
a song, dear nightingale. I have long yearned
to hear the rubato alto melody
at the stroke of midnight… just once more.
Awake, I thought I had been dreaming
when the first somber F minor refrain
swept over my psyche. Outward peering
through the window, I sang into the fog
a gentle countermelody; if I
could only ease your sorrow! Dolce
rondo for hours-days!- on end, I cry…
“All nigh. All nigh” … the lament goes on
With aching bloody throat, I sing no more
and lost forever that which shook my core.

2010 - 2013 (c) Summer Fenwick
16 May 2013:

Poem #4

Flying by the May sky
just seems to grow
warmer, warmer, brighter, brighter
when I finally had the
strength to let go.

All my feelings flew away
on a cold current out to sea
further, further, lesser, lesser
and the remains sank
slow to the ocean deep

That was me
down in the waves
cold, cold, remorse, remorse
but it is summer time
and years gone by have taught me
I have a choice.

2013 (c) Summer Fenwick

15 May 2013 :
Poem #3

Silence is golden,
except when your lips are bound
tight with iron bolts

2013 (c) Summer Fenwick
13 May 2013:
Poem #2
When do you know you give up too much?
"Sharing is caring" and "giving is good" -
it isn't logical to starve and such,
but you starve because you know that you should.
If hunger is an indication, then
do you steal out of your loved one's mouth?
Should you have to steal at all when
you ask and receive "I don't know" due south?
There's nothing left. That is all you have.
In the end, it just was never enough.
They wanted the impossible - cut you in halve
and take all the raw red stuff.

2013 (c) Summer Fenwick
2 May 2013:
Poem #1
Don't know
Which way up.
I thought I knew;
I guess that I don't,
and the breadcrumbs just ran out.
I would go back if I could,
but the hole is dark and deep.
Cold and wet, can't climb and can't even sleep.
I can't escape and this I can't cope.
Someone to throw down a nice thick rope!
I do not mind rope burns
At least they are warm
compared to this
dark deep muddy
hole in my mind.
The worst part is
I can't

2013 (c) Summer Fenwick

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dark but very well said for lips bound tight with iron bolts...