I need a hero...

Posts tagged "poetry"

160
27
Sep

I Fall Too

tylerknott:

I see them
falling
changing
and preparing
themselves
for the long push
through winter
and inside me
a thought
is born…
Autumn leaves
have got
nothing
on me.

-Tyler Knott Gregson-
4
Feb

Topography

Topography
~Sharon Olds

After we flew across the country,
we got in bed,
laid our bodies delicately together,
like maps laid face to face, East to West,
my San Francisco against your New York,
your Fire Island against my Sonoma,
my New Orleans deep in your Texas,
your Idaho bright on my Great Lakes,
my Kansas burning against your Kansas,
your Kansas burning against my Kansas,
your Eastern Standard Time pressing into my Pacific Time,
my Mountain Time beating against your Central Time,
your sun rising swiftly from the right,
my sun rising swiftly from the left,
your moon rising slowly from the left,
my moon rising slowly from the right
until all four bodies of the sky burn above us,
sealing us together,
all our cities’ twin cities,
all our states united,
one nation,
indivisible,
with liberty
and justice
for all.
- poetry
278
17
Dec

Should We?

Should we swim in these sheets?
Should we float on the blankets
and hold our breath as the pillows
crash on top of us?
Should we tear off these swimsuits
and swim naked under the waterfalls
of our headboard?
Should we kiss under the whitewash
of the down comforter atop us
and marvel at the light that decorates our faces
as it passes through all the places where the
feathers have shifted?

Should we dance on this mattress?
Should we waltz and two-step and tango
on the sheets stretched tight against
the bed below us?
Should we spin and sway and dip
and fall off the bed
into a pile of laughter and applause?
Should we dance under the spotlight
of the moon and the stars
and the audience of planets
that orbit around us
and only us?

Should we paint each other with kisses?
Should we sketch with our fingertips
on the canvases of our bodies?
Should we work off the clay of
our clothing and scrape and mold
and peel back the layers of life
and time and ache covering
the people we were meant to be?
Should we be the artists
and be the canvases and be
the paintbrushes and should
our kisses be the paint?

Should we burn our story into our skin?
Should we be the authors and the poets
the writers and the dreamers
that give shape to the floating fragments
of all we have yet to do?
Should we give a voice to the silence
lingering between your skin
and mine?
Should we close that space now
once and for all and watch the scattering
of the words that make our story
when our chests collide?

Should we?

-Tyler Knott Gregson-

tylerknott:
188
25
Nov

Never

Never have I been
A painter, an artist
never known what it is
To make colors
Dance.
But I, eyes shut
naked, with these tips
of these fingers
as brushes
paint.
I
paint your breasts bare
With soft shadow
cradled in my hands.
Your hair like smoke spilling onto my
chest, your eyes lost in me.
My fingers, my brushes smooth
and silken the deep hues
your skin, my fingers brush
up your legs
quietly tracing
The contours that are
You.
Thighs end with puddled
paint covered by my
bareness.
Love is canvas
as I paint you in pieces,
never have I been a painter
an artist
but in our bed,
my fingers paint your nakedness
our intimacy
a masterpiece.

-Tyler Knott Gregson-*I thought I posted this before, but I couldn’t find it. So, here you go.
- poetry