Category Archives: excerpts

and this is what did not go into the story because it could not be put in there, because these are my thoughts: pure, unadulturated; poems; quotes; hopes…

i become undone

i become undone,
with your touch on my neck,
collarbone yielding
to mesh into
the essence of you.

let down the guard,
feel arteries dilate,
take this one chance
and
i will fall
– like always –
into the boiling pot of us
without
noticing the pain.

the earth drips with moisture

i breathe you out
the way i breathed you in:
musky, silent, imperceptibly sweet,
mingled with rain,
your veins carrying raindrops
straight from the sky
into the heart.

i cup my hands,
pool the torrential outpour in them,
arms outstretched
to the god of thunder
and his throne on olympus;
and i imagine
you cupping my breasts.

the hands feel warm and soft,
tropical islands in the sea of desire,
holding me in the near-darkness.
the earth drips with moisture
and i drink the rainwater
as an offering
to love.

the scream

i shout.
the pitch
above human hearing:
sharp piercing sound – a blade –
slitting time
and life
and space
inside me.

then,
lips come together,
in a brusque motion.
the slurmp of collision
runs through the body
and the rest is silence.

beneath the bones,
the scream solidifies
in the darkness of the soul.

you are.

you listen
to the scribble of my pen on paper:
ardent, desperate, hot:
bird caged in barbed wire and wool,
fed ground coffee and coca leaves.

you listen
of my other loves:
none as big
none as beautiful, but just as real

and flitter
between me and sadness,
so that i don’t have to do it myself:
a mediator, a true constant.

you are the paper i write on,
carving words into the thick muscle of heart:
water is thinner than blood.

you are the dream I must have had
before you held me in the night.

you are. you are. you are.

football in the dark

the sun

f

a

l

l

s

on the windowpane;
the shattering glass
glistens.

sphere bouncing off
again and again
in the replay of that time:
the thump
thump thump
of children’s beating hearts.

we don’t wait for the shout,
we run, paling,
into the leafy dark
where we collide with silence
and each other.

breath escapes,
fear subsides, feet find the ground:

we learn to play football in the dark.

peaches

you taste like peaches,
your ripeness undeterred
by the tight o of my mouth //
it’s the first day of summer
or the last day of spring
or some other time, where the time
is right for falling in love //
and you taste the way a peach does
when it first falls to the ground.

comeclose and sleepnow ~ r.mcgough

i’ve read and reread this poem many times today. each time it hits you someplace else, somewhere where you don’t quite expect it to. anyhow, read it for yourself, at leisure. read it and let its humid tone set in.

COMECLOSE AND SLEEPNOW
it is afterwardsand you talk on tiptoe

happy to be part

of the darkness

lips becoming limpa prelude to tiredness.

Comeclose and Sleepnow

for in the morning wh

en a policeman

disguised as the suncreeps into the room

and your mother disguised as birds

calls from the trees

you will put on a dress of guiltand shoes with broken high ideals

and refusing coffee

r u n

alltheway

h o m e

Roger McGough

maybe the last few days of reading sylvia plath has made me into a feminist, or maybe i always was one, but this tugs a string to the point of breaking.
this makes me want to run all the way home
and back
into your arms.