have you ever had a
pie in the sky
pretend we’ve won the lotto
dream? the kind of plans that
are attached to impossible futures?
I used to think I did
have those kind of dreams I mean
but then one came true
and another
and another
suddenly I’m living in the town
I swore I’d call home as a millionaire
but without all that money
suddenly I’m sinking time into my love of words
buying books enough to overflow my shelves
and writing down the world inside my head
until I can almost taste it
suddenly I’m allowed to be me
as soft or sharp or simple as I please
and no one bats an eye
maybe impossible dreams just need
impossible people to reach for them anyway?
Category: [writer stuff]
anything related to reading, writing, and wordcraft
play god [poem]
it is a heavy burden
to be the child of an ambrosia addict with no name
an immortal unremembered
he will never be a good father figure
divine hands useless against a baby’s fever
or a toddler’s scraped knees
or a young woman’s broken heart
instead he will play god
invisible and holy beyond all this
mortal mindlessness
wireless friends [poem]
weaving a web of wireless friends is a practice of
typing up your mutterings for strangers to read
you have to leave breadcrumbs
leading back to your social media corners
hoping they’ll follow the trail
and get to know you
elephant graveyard [poem]
I may never know love again
and it hurts to admit that
I will love
of course
because my every smile is a sign of affection
even for a stranger
but I may never let someone past
the elephant graveyard made up of my ex lovers
and their promises
let the sun bleached bones
speak of the need for honesty
even if it kills us
I don’t want any more bodies buried
in the valley between the truth and the trouble
let there be a safe path to my heart
that a worthy seeker may find their way in
never as planned [poem]
I’m terrified of these lists
the ones that take a daydream and
mold it into reality
it’s not the lists themselves
or the act of listing
I love creating bullet points of action
my mouth curving into a grin with every
crossed out line
half of my poems are lists
hidden in clever metaphors
the problem
is in opening the door between
a wistful thought
and a proper plan
every word a prayer [poem]
Love is my god
the only divine spirit listening when I pray
do you know
how many poems I’ve sacrificed in Love’s name?
watching my words burn down
into embers in the darkness
each line
a struck match
my heart
the dancing sulfuric smoke
praise Love and its endless mercy
hush now [poem]
hush now love
don’t do this
stop reaching out to touch everything you find pretty
with your too full hands
resist the urge to crank up the heat
you know it’ll only melt what’s left of this away
coming out [poem]
I’m in a constant state of coming out
my closet too big
more bedroom than walk in storage space
people see what they expect to see
a lesbian married to her amazing wife
rather than a polyamorous demisexual
married to the woman who loves her best
they see short hair and see dyke
don’t see the way my eyes roam over the male form
and so every day is an act of playing prism
scattering the light until they see
my rainbow on the walls
ocean [poem]
in a world where love is
the act of diving into the ocean
without looking for sharks
I am both
the woman who moves further inland
when faced with coastal rainstorms
and the unseen creature
living at the bottom of the marianas trench
that has absolutely no desire to see the light
that is to say
I find love to be an inhospitable home
I can’t climb out of or into fast enough
wrong label [poem]
I’m not a lesbian
I’m not familiar with feminine curves
other than my own
I’m not comfortable with reaching out
to touch the soft flesh
I’m not sure if a woman’s body would make me hot
or if I’d find myself too unsure to react
I’m not okay with pretending I know anything
about fire or desire
distant star [poem]
I like to think myself the night sky
all darkness and depth
but in truth
I’m more distant star than the space around it
there’s a bright sweetness to the light I give
a warmth that cradles life
sustaining the growing things
I’d like to claim I’m the night and its silence
but I’ve already shone with sunrise in my smile
stanzas [poem]
you asked me if I’ve written poems about you
as if there were any answer but
yes
of course love
my nails have scraped stanzas down your spine
where only I can read them
panromantic love [poem]
Love
I don’t care what kind of body will hold you
as long as that body is willing to hold this body
I’ve given up all pretense of fitting in
stopped shaving things people expect to be hairless
stopped worrying about this size and shape
except for when it affects my happiness
so why would I care what body you call home
other than to know where to lay my head down at night
once I finally meet you?
Larissa Lee 