Best Interspace Poems


My Anxiety of Fear

I am...
I am...
I am...unbelievably selfish
I am...
I am...
I am...a different someone lately
Please not another question mark
I'll explain
My friends, my closest
are just silently drifting away
silently drifting away from me
I mean I should be happy right
They all have something going on in their lives
I mean I should build them up
be proud for them and what their going through
but being proud doesn't replace
the static of the empty sounds surround me
Adryanna, Belle, Juliet, Felicity
Lilly, Silver
My closest friends in a nutshell
the very same friends who drive me insane
and up the wall
who I'd fight for and save them all
there they are
floating away on separate clouds
away from me
Who am I kidding
Were they ever meant to stay
I've lost some of them more than once
I've lost some of them
the same way I am now
What is wrong with me
Is it just out of jealousy
that someone else is stealing my girls away from me
Or could it be that I want to be
the only one they say they always need
What is wrong with me
Is it really out of fear of being stuck alone
in my self indulged interspace
singing sad songs for days
thinking of their collective faces
wondering how their making out
while I'm wishing I was anywhere with anyone
making out
What is wrong with me
I guess I...
I guess I...
I guess I...
I don't even know
I...I don't know
I love them
I love our good times
I fear for the loss of those memories
I fear for the replacement of me
I'm obviously boring and easy to forget...
Why am I so hard on myself...
I want them to be happy
and if somebody else makes them that way
then I should be okay
but...I always want that someone to be me
Do I know who I am
No...but I wish I did
Do I know who I am
Mr. Romantic
but Mr. Romantic
just became Hopeless
Au Revoir

Annound Fortress

for an anound fortress I burn with words that acrill
around the trees in the seas above the sky below the eye
from the song to the speaking rythum
in wintery sky under the savering sighs
for an anound fortress I burn with words that acrill
with windiling given lies that seek there silnte cries
distant memory calling it's grimus reverbed prototcall
workful manic deppression awkened in my center
near from the sound far from the passion 
for an anound fortress I burn with words that acrill
forsaken in the deepest plennor
 quite from the storm falling for a brutal action
remebered for the one choosen forgotten for the places sholven
placed out of faith marked from the waking face
walking through pasts disertion proud of minds adovlen
seeking felt impression destorying my senitive interspace
for an anound fortress i burn with words of acrill
set in fate of mercy feel no pain atureee
a watchful eye aproches my welten deeds
slipping from fortold longer i lash intreee
wellspoken whith the last of almighty scrifting heeds
for an anound fortress i burn with words of  acrill 
formitalbly calling, unheard will, of an undying spirit
 shackled for theift of my innocents lying teerit

1963

Those long bus rides 
between Urbana, Illinois and Wheaton, Maryland 
were all in the interspace,  
hours of smooth nothingness punctuated 
by jangly nothingness 
at change points like Cincinnati and Pittsburg. 
Blurs in memory, dreamy, 
taste of intensly needed sandwiches 
and the desperate need to be clean. 
Long half-sleep voyages 
through fantasy, through needle-sticking 
drives, ********, thirst, 
looking out of the window for relief, 
only to see darkness.


Hoot Owls

They come as close as they can.
The tree line is a frontier edge
between them and the brick barricades. 

I imagine them peering over their world 
into mine, and though their hooting 
may be only a prelude to nesting,
this night they speak 
on the multilingual lips of transmission.

When such divergent beings 
encounter one another, they meet at a distance,
skirmish and scout. They lookout
from a catbird seat.

All sounds speak of something.
Where light and dark converge
much can be overheard, much discerned.

Tonight the hoot owls speak though 
that same interspace, their modulations 
are haunting, the way the wind haunts 
the very breath in our lungs.

Mystery

With a head full of sand
from sinking in quicksand
I say things some might not approve of
They will know when I say the words
not to meant reach their ears
I have stared once again in crystal
and saw a glimmering star
it seemed so far
but only miles and states separate
yet it was a still screen that paused me
and teal blue eye shadow caught my attention
A name starting with a K
A three letter word rolling off the tongue so sweet
and that's all I know
I guess that's the mystery
why I'm interestingly intrigued
I could place compliments to the name
but should I dare
i could say enchanting for my attention is had
I could say frightening for a future untold
I could say I don't know
my words choke up in my neck
for I don't know what to say next
I could say hey
but silence rolls my way
in place relays her guardian angel
I held in my sights
in place relays her guardian angel
where I shared a still templed kiss
That's a haunting phase
a delicate interspace
but I write what's on my mind
and what's on my mind
is that her guardian angel
is now intertwined within another
but I have no room for another perfect storm
so here I stand
well sit mulling it over
but I shall say nothing, nothing
K
a name so sweet
a name but a mystery
guess I'll leave it be
and stare up into the sky
stare up into another crystal...
and...I don't know
Mystery

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