Some whimsical plan
I let you drop the breadcrumbs
I ate in blind love
Froth
Were my hands not
Coated in blue and rubber
Covered in the grime and froth of you
I’d slip beyond
My aching heart muscle
My pulsating hope muscle
Press pause
Scream your name
Liar
Stranger
Then skip to the next song
Running Meditation
I invade
Your privacyYour every thought
The space you squatThe peace within
The tales you spinYour very story
And yes, God’s gloryMocked sociality
Run from me
Upper Flat
She sat on high
Thick legged
In simple summer frill
And damned right she didn’t care
Since he was cozied close
Parisian-like despite their li’l bungalow
Quite pleased, most pleased
With the noisy air
The abundant lack
And the red lipstick
The Search For Strings
Some other song
Still the cello’s rolling drawl
Still the violin fiddling with convention
Still the red and grey and wooded
And white
Still the notes hanging, then slow-motion wafting
On high
Still the Beautiful
More Like
The simple I gladly announce
What they describe daily
Will always and ever elude
We who find ourselves
Teasing
Out of hiding
The simple epic
Signs
Cat hair blanket
Cry in’ pillow
Red music sheets
Too-tall mattress
Concrete headboard
Trackless dreaming
Find a secret place
Pray
other side of This World
A gun in his hand
A gun in his hand
Hate put a gun in his hand
Taught to fear
Classmates he held dear
He’s eight with a gun in his hand
Elements Of
Similes use me
Metaphors mock me
Memories fail to existTo be as loved
To be loved
To resemble
To becomeWhat is it like
What is this
efflorescence
Let each Day be a brick
A brick placed in the wall
The wall inscribed with words
With words only for me
For me you were the hope
The hope I’d love again
Love again you fool
You fool brick wall of words
LisaRosier.com 