Yeah, Write #430

Yeah, Write #430 

-you’ll Laugh

You Know.

by Shannon Barber

You know.

-you’ll laugh.

You want to call them faceless, nameless, formless even- it would be easier wouldn’t it? Everything would be better if you didn’t feel their name songs in your bones when you lay down to sleep, if you didn’t see their faces smile at you from darkened corners, if your skin didn’t remember the heat of their touch. Easy, you crave any ease and moments of illusory peace.

You know.

-you’ll laugh.

You watch everyone else. Their petty struggles and their ignorance of the name songs and weight of the dead that hangs on them make you smile when everything else is- as is. You hold your truth close, truth is your secret. Watch the rest of the fools dance and squirm. You tell yourself while your bones vibrate with name songs and your skin buzzes with ghosts, at least you know. Tonight you’ll laugh.

You know.

-you’ll laugh.

You know. You will take your complexities and one foot on the other side life because-

You know-

-you’ll laugh.

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Yeah Write Entry #298- Desiderium For RG

 

Desiderium*

by

Shannon Barber

 

I want.

I need.

Black wings, a flutter against my skull. I see you and can’t stop the thoughts. Is this mania? When I see the skin beneath your ear, all I can think about is how soft it is, how vulnerable. Teeth or blade? Kiss or bite? Predation. Lust.

Thoughts, bubbling like black water. Thoughts red and bloody.

I want.

I need.

Id rattling the bars. I am a shell.

A caress that precedes a slap, your hand around my throat. A threatening squeeze that echoes in my cunt.

I want.

I need.

My nails in your back, dragging skin until thin blood mixes with hot sweat.

Later, when we are spent, bruised and battered we will weep.

Drop salt tears on my breast, your cock hard again in my hand.

I am want.

I am need.

*I am longing for what is lost. 

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PS

I will craft nerd about this tomorrow and explain a thing. Also it is dedicated to and inspired by one of my Muses Remittance Girl.

About writing, jealousy, Sugar and poetry.

First go read this post by Sugar at the Rumpus. If you don’t already read her weekly, you need to fix that.

I too have been known to have those moments of extreme angry jealousy. Hot faced, teary eyed angry self righteous jealousy. It happens. Most of the time I can grit my teeth, take a breath and work it out. Sometimes I feel like I need to just sit in that until I figure out what my problem is.

Sometimes the problem is snobbery on my part. Sometimes it’s my frequent outsider feeling.

For instance. I was reading some lit zine or other and the editor had a thingy in it going on and on and ON and on and on about his (her?) MFA things. The studies, the students all the wonderful works from them and not so much the proletariat other submitters. His his/her view the non MFA submissions (and it was required in the publications guidelines to state if you are currently in an MFA program.

Blablabla..I fumed and sat by myself freaking out. For reference I’m not formally educated. I am 34 years old and have a high school diploma. I have no interest in going back to school in America. None at all, it’s just not for me at this point. But oh I was jealous.

Jealous because yes while I understand that an MFA is all the things, life outside of that circle is also all the things.

So it happens. I only feel like this jealousy is a huge deal if I can’t get over it or if I’m tempted to be mean on a personal level to someone which is not cool at all.

Now under the fold there are some poems to celebrate National Poem Month. All pulled from the chapbook that I never sent around because it was frankly not all that good.

Pomes…Pomefone is offline.

I should also note that a lot of these are from a time when I thought that every word I wrote had to be golden and fit for publication or I’d somehow be failing. I’ve since gotten over that.

Continue reading “About writing, jealousy, Sugar and poetry.”