deluge

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photo (2)

still

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photo

The Mountain

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i have that pin you gave me when I saved

your life. it fell off the other day and I found

it under my bed. not really poetic. but

without it i feel naked. you came to me

when the day became the night at that

perfect sunset moment when the world

around me stops and I stare up

to forget the pounding of keys

and my heart.

i do not try to get on top of you,

you have a way of getting there first.

your wicked ways of wanting

your charming chase of chanting’

i got an A in literature and never

went to claim my award. no

university mattered as much

as the one you never went to.

i wanted to continue the idealistic

dream but money took over the

desire. as it always does, and i

still rock myself to waking up.

to sleeping. boxes of wine bottles

on kitchen floors. none of my

words reach you though

up in your empire of broken

dreams. you visit less and less

and forgot the melodramatic

way i enhance all the nails

on the wall. stop piercing me.

you struck me too far. no

distance is far enough. no

steps slow enough. you will

catch me one day when i

least expect it. as it should be.

no expectations or careless

imaginations. greeks crashing

the markets and democracy

the epic revolution. it’s in our

blood to see further. despise

the enemy, with empty pockets

and ghosts of the army past.

no one ever forgets history.

i’m going to the mountain,

because that is what we

call Mont-Royal, there’s

a word for all the insiders

that the outsiders claw at.

a few speak them.

a few know that guitar riff.

but most doubt their own

heritage. or wave it off.

check your veins.

you’re alive.

hell is near.

One Thousand

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In one thousand eyes

I could search for you

the purple sky

right at that time

when you can’t

take your eyes off

the colors

even photos

cannot capture

the life

of one thousand souls

to reach you

I could take the dark

keep it close

lose myself in its arms

but your thousand songs

comfort me more

I was born one thousand times

and all the while

it was you

I met again

to only meet again

under the thousand stars

that divide

us and connect us

Bold or bittersweet

it has brightened

my universe

into one thousand poems

for you.

 

 

 

wandering by the port

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you wandered inside my mind

and got lost. you asked me

why do you write? because

i feel the words the way

you feel the sunshine on

your skin. because i want

to tear apart the demons.

because the words i hide

are the ones that come back

like a magician’s tricks.

because i told you, i have

no fucking choice. he woke me

up at midnight with violent

blue eyes and soft gently hands

only to thunder my soul with want.

i don’t want to read your poems.

i love everything about you and nothing

to do with what you write.

you know half of me.

you know all of me.

you know you can’t escape

yourself, baby.

he makes me crazy

with wanting and i tell him

everything. truth serum is

my vodka at scarlet

restaurants with

mobsters ordering

salmon tartare as if

they know everything about

fine cuisine, but nouveau

riche stay under the radar

no matter how their lambos

look in valet parking. try harder.

want less. the trick is to

keep breathing in tiny

made up gardens looking

for truth in empty champagne bottles.

it’s bullshit and Old Montreal is

holding my memories the way it

held my heart. we walked into

the pub and once again

I was the barmaid and you were

my man. nothing much changes,

just rust is added, some wrinkles,

some new buildings, old joints

still around to draw me closer

to you. i can’t escape anything

about your manic attraction.

i don’t know who i’m trying

to fool.

poems

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Chrissy:

leave my blindfolds on
i like it that way

Originally posted on Christina Strigas:

have some poems in my pocket

under my skirt

between my legs

along the highway to the city

writing them in my head

in my bed

everywhere but here,

i’ll come back sooner or later

but they take control now

and my notebooks aren’t empty enough

and my love is not as full as i want it

so i drown it

add some ice to it

and shake the shaker with

instant cosmos on the table.

i’m the best suburban downtown barmaid

around,

my heart never ages

you look like sisters and other lies

i hear.

oh, come on, you know the drill

the thrill

you can find it anywhere else

but here.

poems set me aflame now

let reality burn down

to the ground

i won’t call 911.

i’d rather be a ghost.

I see nothing but love

and even that covers itself up

and hides from this painting.

View original 9 more words

poems

Posted on Updated on

have some poems in my pocket

under my skirt

between my legs

along the highway to the city

writing them in my head

in my bed

everywhere but here,

i’ll come back sooner or later

but they take control now

and my notebooks aren’t empty enough

and my love is not as full as i want it

so i drown it

add some ice to it

and shake the shaker with

instant cosmos on the table.

i’m the best suburban downtown barmaid

around,

my heart never ages

you look like sisters and other lies

i hear.

oh, come on, you know the drill

the thrill

you can find it anywhere else

but here.

poems set me aflame now

let reality burn down

to the ground

i won’t call 911.

i’d rather be a ghost.

I see nothing but love

and even that covers itself up

and hides from this painting.

leave my blindfolds on

i like it that way.