What I Needed to Say Poem V. 1

words and tears

tears.

big, round, alligator tears.

big, round knots in my throat.

big, silent tears.

words, molotov cocktail words

setting off fire alarms and sprinkler systems

in the form of tears.

tears,

dripping from leaky facet eyes.

big round tears that left big round circles

on dirty, too-tired-to-clean porcelain

I'm surprised they didn't form rivers,

didn't carve paths into the tiles,

didn't build you the Grand Canyon.

my tears.

tears.

and words. Lots of words.

cruel words, dagger words,

that pinned me against the wall while one word

stabbed me.

illness.

The i, the l, the l, so sharp as they dig into my chest

twist around my lungs

I can't breathe, only

tears.

tears

caused by words, could have been stopped by words:

Stop!

That's not true!

I'm not that!

You're not really mad at me!

Stop!

but those words, to save my mental health,

weren’t spoken because of your mental

i-l-l-n-e-s-s.

she doesn't mean what she's saying.

tears.

What can I do to make it better?

Is the ending as good as the beginning?

Does it make sense or is it too obscure?

Ps. My word varification is: luremat. How cool is that? That would make a nice poem.

...my shoes landed on your luremat...

A Time My World Changed Poem V. 2

We Come to Understand

We come to understand
slowly
The great coming-of-age epiphanies
never really there
But, nevertheless, we come to understand

Steam rising from the lake at dusk
swirling like the smoke from
her cigarette and wicker furniture
lines on the bottom of my thighs.
We came to understand,
understand that she loves a man
long dead so we may never meet

Understand that, though the alcohol
attached itself to blood cells,
sprinted through lungs,
and rode on carbon dioxide out his mouth,
so the whole family could smell his liquor,
he was loved.

He was loved by her,
sitting here, now, alone.
He was loved by her,
our lonely Woman
with a cigarette and a story.

We came to understand,
on those sticky summer evenings
those messy, melting periods
between tired days and lively nights.
Those evenings of conversation
when nothing was taboo
That's when we came to understand

We come to understand
slowly
on slow evenings
when the moon tastes sticky sweet
on wicker furniture and cigarette smoke
with our lonely Woman.

A Time My World Changed Poem V.1

We Come to Understand

We come to understand
slowly
The great coming-of-age epiphanies
never really there
But, nevertheless, we come to understand

Steam rising from the lake at dusk
swirling like the smoke from
her cigarette and wicker furniture
lines on the bottom of my thighs
We came to understand
understand that she loves a man
we can never meet

Understand that, though the alcohol
attached itself to blood cells,
sprinted through lungs,
and rode on carbon dioxide out his mouth,
so the whole family could smell his liquor,
he was loved

We came to understand,
on those sticky summer evenings
those messy, melting periods
between tired days and lively nights.
Those evenings of conversation
when nothing was taboo
That's when we came to understand

We come to understand
slowly
on slow evenings
when the moon tastes sticky sweet
on wicker furniture and cigarette smoke
with our lonely Woman
we come to understand.




Ok, so I know exactly what I'm talking about. Do you?


Should I use more poetic devices or is it OK?