Long Nerve ending Poems
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For you
I would
create a mixtape
which I know is an ancient technology but
with me and you it is just that simple.
I race to you like we used to rush into each other's arms in highschool
where our only concern was whether or not we could get the courage to talk to each other without shaking.....
This is the playlist that I would prepare for you.
First and foremost I'd put Hate to see you go by The colour fred
Because it is true as the song has said
Truly if I could I would become a
sculptor...
I would place the unformed chunk of my clayself and spin.
Create myself in the image of your ideal perfection.
I would spin
Faster than the spools could play the songs on re-wind
I want so badly to make an impresion
and I know that the the tape can only contain up to 35 minutes for you to get the underlying
message
October Nights, by Yellowcard
will follow soon after
because that exotic night in your car
where the street lights were our blankets
is constantly on replay in my mind
Right before the heavy nod of sleep
I daydream
You are laying beside me, and in this private realm of thought
We travel like archeologists over the naked lay of our connected bodies
and I live through the pleasure that this daydream explodes into my mind like
parasympathetic nerve ending fireworks
Remember will play softly by Allister
and I'll hold onto the hope that you will forgive me of this time in our lives where I have to
press pause
for I am broken still
Knaans waving flag will resound from your stereos
For 'tis this soundtrack where my battle cry is derived
I know it is just the beginning but I will push myself past my barriers
Pieces by Sum 41 will be your lullaby
because this is the song that brought back the blue into my gray eyes
Hopefully side one will bring you comfort
because you are everything I am looking for in a guy
I am but a broken winged robin who has got to learn once more to fly.
and lastly Blink 182's I miss you
Because there is not a moment in the day where my mind wanders back to you
Form:
“Friendly Fire”
I was writing
when death came
like the sound of
clouds cracking open
the sound like all 4
horses, hooves kicking
in windows, stenographically
speaking like a scream,
my world shattered, the sound
like wanton sirens piercing
the unassuming quiet,
my hands were on fire then,
the keys melting into
the nerve ending of it all
as I punched holes
in the air like some
ticketmaster casually
strolling aisles married to
time racing petulantly
on some
runnaway train
I passed windows
that were not open
with my belly
in my throat
I heard the whisper
of it all
the soft banter
as I fell through
the floors
"you know",
they say,
"friendly fire,
this has happened before"
last thoughts
as I tap it all out
dancing through it all
like a fountain nibbed
sword
I am my worst
enemy
but then,
aren’t we all?
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
HEMISPHERIC RUMBLINGS
Lightening that flashes between two hemispheres
Hail falling in droves behind the eyelid’s curtain
Showered hair standing up in precipitation’s fight
Each nerve ending sharing primordial foreboding
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Kim Rodrigues © 2017
EYE DISCONNECT
i’ve always been drawn
to eyes — a smorgasbord of colors
but that’s not what i see
i drift beyond what most can tap into
the shroud of evidence
the red rivers
a canal lock
bulging, ready to burst
the big bang
the upsurge of rage
shocking severance
the world in ethereal mist
the feel of goosebumps —
a spirit throws a sodden blanket,
arctic cold around shoulders
shuddering teeth like ice picks
wincing of pinched nerve ending
but she’s like a statue of Mother Teresa
They whisper...whissss…
“She’s so calm.”
“So strong.”
“A saint in her circumstance.”
But the Spirit tells me, “See… Feel...her.”
Through her eyelids, I wander, not for myself
but for the gift of God,
I touch her arm, I ask
with godly inflection
“How are you?”
and her heart stirs…
...the high and low pressure mixes
...quite like a cold engine whirring to start
elephantine tears, wrinkled and gray,
splatter...her trunk collapses
and God collects the sudden stream into a cloud
for no bottle can hold this torrent of weeping
others walk away, afraid, embarrassed, imposters
a dove turns into pure comfort
a solid hand of flesh
a form strong enough to hold her up
she rests in the Spirit of the love of God
i see a smorgasbord of colors
she smiles
12/28/2018