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Best Poems Written by Cas Puc

Below are the all-time best Cas Puc poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Cas Puc Poem

Surrealism At 1 O'Clock

i shake my head no when the target employee asks
if i want to sign up for a rewards card
i shake my head a lot

i have a nervous twitch that jerks my head around
to listen for signs of oncoming freighters

my father and mother call me overmedicated
i call myself in the middle of the night when i am awake 
with claws poised above my wrists

antidepressants are a funny thing
when your depression isnt a depression anymore, 
when it isnt feeling sad or guilty or lonely
it isn't feeling at all, 
it isn't even being numb 
it is falling away from your body altogether.
it is you, adrift on autopilot

you've lost your edge, old dog, i tell my naked body in the mirror on the night of my fifteenth birthday.
i spent today underwater

i dropped my plate because i could 
and i couldn't keep my arms up
and i stood amongst the shattered ceramic for far longer than i should have,
staring into space like a piece in moma

my father and mother walk in
and call me catatonic
i don't respond

they walk back out and i am still standing in the ceramic
i never move for the fear of sharp things 
and for the fear that my lips work fine

and my standing here, 

barely breathing, 

isn't the medication at all.

Details | Cas Puc Poem

Speak

I am not a conversation.

I am an angry friday night argument
set in your half illuminated kitchen
I am angry voices 
and cruel remarks
and I am held together 
by the fragility of the hour.

You hear me thunder by 
and you go back to bed.

Details | Cas Puc Poem

Unfettered

My breath
   the grass blades do not bend for, 
      My sitting, face to the earth, 
        the dirt does not shift for,
I run fingers through running water ,
and it runs through,
unfettered.

I am lonely in that 
 my body does not occupy any space,
   In the filmy quality 
    of the scenes of my life across my face,
I press air past my vocal cords,
and it presses past,
unfettered.

Does God know 
  the language of the dove?
    Are we, in all of our arrogance,
      come push come shove,
Are we all the same with knives,
behind our teeth to slide through, 
unfettered?

It seems so to me when you are bleeding,
  face down,
 into grass that does not stir with your breath, 
    as you now have none.