dancing on tripwire

(these were written seperately, but somehow, I feel like they were meant to be together.)


dancing on tripwire
tumbling through minefields
her life is an hourglass
pushed to the edge of the table

----

she laughed as the world burned around her
dancing naked among the ashes
kicking her feet in the air,
spraying the sky with dust
her arms outstretched
beckoning armageddon.

Proveyer of words

(here's one of my latest pieces, it's a slam poem, so, it might be formatted a little odd, because of how it's spoken outloud)

I am not the most masterful, fantastical proveyer of words
I am merely a vessel, a transubstantiating vessel
Contained by flesh, skin and bone, meat to speak
speak and be heard they once said, well all of them are now dead,
dead along with dreams, one I half-remember, even
maybe something about ballet shoes, a tutu, a dress…
but, I digress.
I do not create
create would be to procreate, masticate and reverberate
reverberate the syllables, the dialogue, the diction,
Don’t forget the hyperbolic friction!
It isn’t about the words
Las idiomas que…
Oh English, I’d say is my forte
but then again, I’d have to say
I’m not the best proveyer of words.

soul-less smile

I wish I could be your pretty little doll
wrapped up not only in cloth but patience
and determined to please you
with a soul-less smile.
Because I've never been that porcelein figure
nor have I seen myself ever become one
or become one.
Because what you want
is a trophy
who sits on the shelf and smiles
smiles and smiles all day
and you feel like you put that smile there
and only take me out
on a rainy day.