Poetry Project #1 Songs

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I am a visitor here, I am not permanent
In flames I sleep soundly
With words unspoken a silent devotion
But my silent fears have gripped me
I am a ten thousand petal flower unfolding in this moment
Wrap me up, unfold me
Autumn night, I watch your face in the firelight
The moons have aligned our separate lives
It’s your beauty where I feel most free
Come let’s live like thieves stealing our time
They never stood in the dark with you love
If there’s no one beside you when your soul embarks
And the distance is quite simply much too far for me to row
I found a place to make a stand
I’m standing here until you make me move
Into the fire feeling higher than the truth
I can feel the angels falling down around my head
We kissed, as though nothing could fall
All the wonders remain become a simple fact
When the time comes, don’t run, just kiss me slowly
I know that you’ll find love, I will possess your heart

This poem was a gift. It was a project where A put together lines from the songs that she likes, to come up with a poem. If you know the songs used for this project, let me know! :)

Seven Little Things by Kumiko Mae

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There are seven little things about this house that annoys me
 
One is the pack of Maltesers that you keep
hidden behind ice cube racks
so no one will see
and by no one, you mean me.
Those choco-coated malts roll
down my patience like bad liquor
they remind me of your selfishness and of
my gluttony.
 
Two are the remote controllers
scattered on the floor
tucked in the creases of our rickety sofa set,
lost when needed, otherwise all over the place.
They switch on my memory
of better times when everything
was a button away, we were gods,
until the clouds of your lies fell upon the dreariness of our
every day.
 
Third, is the most personal
I cringe even at the admission.
I am annoyed by your clinginess
wet hair to wet skin
unshakeable
parasite of some sort.
But with the same velocity
I cling on to you. 

Fourth
Stands for the glare
Of the television you wouldn't turn
Off, nor mute down, even as you sleep.
Nightly, I sneak to kill the blinking lights
that seem to tuck your eyelids shut
but nightly I fail
for in your sleep, though you are lost to dreams
your hand shields the TV
and my hands are nothing
against yours.
 
Fifth is partly mine
to apologize for so I won't open the door too wide
out of pride.
Fifth is for the lights
that are never out, an expensive resolve
to have inner peace.
 
Sixth are the broken lids of our jars
thus we are vulnerable
stuck with the spoiled stench of yesterday
faced with a routinely
exposure to a further poisonous well
happening as we speak.

Seventh, and last
of the little things that infuriate
is for the gate that we can never lock
from the outside.
It leaves me dependent of your potency at night
when I miss the last bus.

How it leaves us trapped in our white rooms 
by our own doing. 

What Happens When You're Sleeping by Kumiko Mae

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When it's quiet I hear
myself break from
the inside.
It is a ballet,
a painful flex
running across my limbs
an arc disfiguring
my back. How it vibrates
on a still unslept bed.
 
It is gurgling water
in which my tongue awaits
your name
to form from nowhere
a ghost that dictates;
but never arrives. You stay
in your sleep
while I sink
deeply awakened
by the hope and need
to hope some more.

When it's quiet
I fold like
scraps of paper being burnt
by a weak candle,
not even lighting a room,
until my ashes are blown
unto your feet
where you're open. When you rise
from the slumber that stole
you from me
where imaginary keeps you
captive and drugged
by togetherness only clouds
will understand. I scratch
and etch myself
in that still second,
where the moon is glass
and the night is only broken
by a silence
put to rest
by your demons
in your head,
my bible of truths,
You
by your yawn
or an alarming jerk
that would trigger
my gun. 

No Regrets by Kumiko Mae

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I regret
giving 
to every other
possibility
I have
stretched
perused
to spend
Time.
I lost
a finger
a tooth
a sense of
being still
from all
the grinding
that crumpled
the peace
of rooms
for nothing
permanent
just fleeting
like ships
only crossing
borders
never docked.
But
I thank
each feather
that broke
Free
and flew.
Their gentle
nature caressed
my tensed
muscles
to reach
to dig
to search
deeper into
my well
my clouds
my forest.
And less
of a name
I have
learned
have become
more for you
enough
for me.

Papers by Kumiko Mae

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Remember
In my head are days when papers cut through your hand to reach the tip of my fingers.
They beg to be noticed, to be read and considered, until the palm of my coldness turn red from the rash of holding too tightly.
Do you?
Remember how you hummed as you sliced through the spices that teared up the room.
It was delicious to listen.

Think about it, you said. And I did because it's you. I didn't want to
but I must because you asked so I should
do, remember what happened
all that was lost and could be found.

To remember that the days that counted our chances were all devils in my head, foams of the sea, never the ocean.

How I remember
the acid burning the edges, the shining stain of real black seducing my lips to read,
Your name, bewitchingly
signed first
above printed letters of a dream we thought we could only hope for, and then
that real bursting feeling inside my stomach that crumbles the very mortars of my hope
to be with you, til death
keeps us apart.

(unfinished) by Kumiko Mae

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It is humming
your name with a high
pitched voice
like a leader
of an angelic choir.
It sounds like death
whispering hello
on a bright sunny day
just when you thought
it was perfect.
It goes on and on
this vibrato of souls
clenching on the hope
of rebirth.

I Do by Kumiko Mae

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When you hear the tracks creak
like a storm with secrets
underneath, breathe because it only means
I'm going home to you

When meat sizzles and oil hisses
for the rawness of each emotion
that falls flat, head first, diving airless on this heated earth,
I will smell the feast that follows--
I will know you will soon be ready

Life is happening
it's in motion, rapid sometimes
and it will consume each space
like water is to vessel
filling up to the rim til it overflows,
if you let it,
or can't help to

Like when I tire
and lie on my stomach
where my chest will fall heavy
but never enough,
my mouth will be open
saliva will fall--
I am thirsty,
can't help it,
I never can control

Like in my dream, where anything can,
does happen, helplessly
the walls shriek
the pipes speak
and the hollowness is revealed
not to be the endless hall
or the catless night,
but within, thus
gasp is all I do

And you, a blanket of silence
will cover my eyes
with peace

Lacing your fingers between the married
truths and lies that lurk the night
until lashes fall
and I see clearer
then I believe what I already know,
I'm already home.