http://www.writerscafe.org/eglatine The original writings of author eglantine en-us Copyright 2013 Aresta Enterprise LLC 1369360347 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Your silhouette still standingin my pupils, I cutout my heart and carveit into a bird housesince the pulse it once playedremains in the memory of our last kiss.Your name is lodged in my throat--                 &nbs.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1179922/ wrap me in rose-thorns,   I have no need of skin   and this morning is too    bright to kiss.cold palm on window-glass,   legs shaking like prayers,   leave me naked of song,   wipe away my breath   so I can watch the trees &.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1179916/ there is something delicateabout a moths' wing undermicroscope light,like flossing a heartbeat between                              your teeth.little moth,.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1178207/ feet, bricks and rainthat's all this April Tuesday is:my paper-smooth feet against sanctified,red bricks as the sky wipesaway my tears with its own.An old woman with a brokenface asked if I'd like to buyseawater, 100% naturaland great for healing scars.My skin tingled but I said noand then went back.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1164901/ My scream was hoarsebecause salt seared mythroat the night the zombieepidemic became non-fiction.I hid behind my ocean-ghosthair, inside of the giantclock that stood in town-square--                   &nbs.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1157927/ My sanity tastes like ocean-tangled yarn.  It hangs frommy cranium, dripping, while Idream of sea-dragonsarguing the mossyconcept of reality.I toss and fallinto some dank corner of my heart--    when I wake, the air    tastes like speckled    rain sh.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1156813/ The rain washes prayersfrom her shivering, lilac lipsas the dirt muds up around her feet.The ink from his letter swimslike watery ribbon from the pageto her trembling hands to the groundlike the moons' silver heartbeats.Her lungs swell with a drowned scream:    S'il vous plait, mon am.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1134204/ please see note below http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1116830/ The sun has left my skin,soaked into oak leavesand now I'm a soft sighof chai steam, dressedin a pencil skirt and blouse,walking to work.My black ballet flatsflit through gatherings of redleaves like flakes of dried inkleftover from a love poem.The sun wrings outwhat light it can spare,gently like m.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1069062/ Her beauty outweighed the moonshe often dreamed ofand her favorite shade was pure white despite her absence of sympathy. She lured them,      men of all careers,      some with silver in the.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1060434/ It's the age of fast foodand protected sex.We wear the skin of young stars and flauntour mundane lives as ifthey were universes,thinking someone, God perhaps,actually cared what classgot canceled or how drunkwe were last night.We've lobotomized ourselveslike lobsters--eyes-firstinto boiling wat.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1057375/ I don't want your heart--it's covered in old algae andleftover oyster shells,cracked open and empty.I want your vocal chordsand tongue! The tightspaces between your teethand the curves of your lips.Give me your minute hand andthe lines on your palm,I don't want your stomach liningor your church face.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1053163/ There lies the tip,dark and feathered--morose and gangrened,just below your Hell-carved tongue.Its sinews are drapedwith blackened flamesthat burn and curl aroundyour prickled nerves.Its charred roots coil around your blistered heart,tightening your breathinto steam--into speechfor this is the sharp.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1053159/ The sun is almost empty.The last of its honey-lightslowly drips into the linear crackin-between lake and sky.The embers in my heartthat keep me aliveare fading from the coldair I breathe inas I stand on a grass-stubbled sand dune, watchingthe sun dry out and the lakewrestle with its grey self, .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1051292/ There is no salt in my tearsbecause I was bornbeneath the moon in August freshwaterto a woman with hair as goldas the burning innards of stars.Two long legs, skin the paleshade of sand at night,and my thoughts always swimahead of me.Silver beach, Lion's beach, Tiscorniabeach, Grand Mere, South Haven.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1051120/ all the fingers on the handare talking nonsensical about puppets and whalesand whether i really is before e,     except if you're seaweed     because then you're just            &nb.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1043769/ If I am there,   against the glass--   on the other side of    the crooked mirror on the wall   (crooked because I hung it myself), then who is here,   cross-legged and delicately   tasting words she learned &nbs.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1038854/ the air is full of bonesand smells of boiled hair. What I was, what I grewup to be,             I no longer am. I put down the penciland picked up a pen;            &nbsp.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1038307/ 11:59. Herglossed lips trembled as she exhaled and tried to focus on the other people inthe room. She had gone to school with these people for the past four years, thesepeople who constantly texted, updated their Facebooks and complained with everyother breath about their pa.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1037375/ Today,         I am radiating lightning.My heart is a battery,pumping high voltageand my eyes spark white.I am the electric glassdragon and I breathe outflames influenced by the moon;fiber-optic speechand when I smile,you can see the airaround me crackle and s.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1035828/ short story http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1033692/ from ze vault http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1033682/ I knew you after reading your astro-philosphical jottingseven though it'd been only a weekof handholding. My soul felt your souls steadyblue gaze, so she allowed the top of her head and her eyesto peek out of the atrium lakefull of electric, pulsing troutand lilypad b.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1033650/ The nuclear scientists usedthe closest thing to our ownbody tissue to witnessand study the effects ofthermal pulse and blast-effects. Operation Plumbbob, they namedit and in their stiff white labcoats,they huffed and puffed radiationon almost 1200 pigs. Let us in.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1026296/ After one too many tequila shots, I stumbled from the barto my deprived house to findVincent Van Gogh, in polka-dotboxers, Nike shoes and Sherlock hat, standing on my well-fed couch. Poetry surrounds us everywhere,but putting it on paper is, alas,not so easy as looking at it.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1021007/ I've nursed this daydreambefore, last Tuesday, perchance                 or was it Wednesday? This daybreaking dream whereI sneeze and the sky rattlesits scales, briefly giving awaythe color of its sec.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1020521/ a collaboration http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1020418/ My nana did not bathein the tin tubher family used, not did her vocalcords capture the air so shecould speak the language of love. She prefered sneaking from laundryand bread baking to be wherethe moon once shed its pearlyskin: le jardin dans son coeur. It was there s.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1017844/ There is some flamboyant secrecybeneath the under-curl of an umbrella,                                 and my breasts. I decide.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1017816/ tie your own hands togetherand repeat after me: the little piggy did notfind its way home Burned glass and broken tongues--            we all fall down into the fiery stream of consciousness where the troutsp.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1009619/ You're looking at yourselfthrough tinted glass;you're not awarethat summer's passed. Shivering in a mini skirt,you tighten your hugand think it could be worse--you could be in love. But oh, how your armstremble from holding yourselftogether and seperated fromlife;.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1004801/ She cremated her voiceand sprinkled the softash on the frozen pondbehind her grandparent's farmhouse. Bare trees, wooden bones, watchedher press sheet musicinto the moon-crusted snow         and the wind pulled    &nb.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1004740/ Your family immigrated from Poland to SaintJoseph, Michigan (USA) as you enteredsecond grade.  We shared the same Lincoln Elementary school, the samecolor-collided classroom, and the samethunder-cloud haired Mrs. Dixon.  Iwas quiet and my speech shy and youwere learning Engli.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1003022/ I imitate mirrored corners to understandthe movement of speech.  Vowelstaste like grapes and oranges; theyrot before I break the skin with mysatin-white teeth. I've stubbed my toe on consonantsat least once each time I dance on the burnedcrust of the sun and if Icould, I'.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1002992/ There are fifty leavesleft on the tree that's rootedin my October heart. They tremble when I breatheand whisper when I speak. As a child, I would restmy palm on the old crab-apple tree's twisted flesh and sit between its teeth, ask for its' name. My tree does.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/1000892/ I am laced with brokenwires that sparkjust beneath my skin--theyburn little black starsamidst my charred frecklesand my speechis electrical smoke:         for I am both woman         and dragon. .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/999264/ For Mr. and Mrs. Garrison Wall, August 4th, 20124 Love is patient, love is kind. We all must pass through the valley of winterat least a few times during the cycle of breathon our way to the lake warm with sun.We must all venture in the unknown expanse, armfaithfully outstret.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/998814/ urrghmeegod soo bored. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/997367/ The air is tinted with cricketsonnets and leftover day-dustand I am slightly tipsy, butnot too bad--my shoelacesare still in bows. We play the Vietnamese cardgame, 13, under the moth-light of duskand my shorts are too loosefrom replacing food with chamomile tea. .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/996738/ The ruins of the Eiffel towerstuck jarrbled and sharplike broken obsidian bonesbehind him as geometricflakes of charred propegandacluttered the air, blackenedthe light.  His hair, onyx with night-shade, covered hisiced-eyes au revoir, mes amishe whispered before the r.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/995236/ I am amazed        as my heart fallsthrough my hands like sand tryingdesperately to become morethan grains of old life and I am amazed at the near-perfectionof this moment: you lying next to me, herangled like a copper shell towards him,him res.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/993635/ I'm tired of all this twenty-firstcentury, egoistic rap-crap.  I wantto sip on an apple martini and tap myfoot to the grand swing of a 1950'sbig brass band.  No gyrating,'f**k-me' grinding, but playfuland genuine dancing--rhythmicmotion responding to that largegolden sound .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/992817/ If you don't mind, I'd liketo tuck the flame that cindersyour speech into the tightcrevice within a walnut. If cracked, would it rear intoa lily of fire once it tastedthe same air we fall against? I'd pluck and swallow it--letthe darkness burn away. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/992813/ Amid the angry accusations and vulgardoodles of reproductive organs, I noticeda small penciled comment, squeezedin between a broken heart with f**k men slashed across it and a penisgiving the middle finger. the creative adult is the child     who survived&n.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/990205/ I hear Thoreaupreferred womenwith sea-glasshair and eyesdeep as watercaves.  Allureis not what is seen butwhat beckons-- a siren desperate to wakenthe voice submeredbeneath consciousness, a violet pressedbetween poetrypages.  Skinpale as ghost .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/990114/ this is one of my longest poems, please bear through it--I really appreciate it, broke it up in sections. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/989255/                          she mimicked death because I write radiation on the ocean... http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/989146/ Only schizophrenic roses revelin the broken air on these nocturnestreets: in some window a silhouette          and summer-jazz clarinet. Hands jutted into his pockets, AllenGinsberg tracks the werewolfthat howls each night--moonor no .. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/989066/ I.Man and woman,young and in sweaters looseenough to let their skin breath, crossChurch street.The man's arms barely sway, like stiffgrass not yet accustomedto springs' friendliness and the womanholds a cup of coffee (I'm not surewhat it is but I imagine it's coffee)in her left h.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/988041/ Sounds like babyteeth in an African rainstick. she murmured over the preciseclicking of her knittingneedles from the whickerrocking chair by the frontwindow. I hesitated between the gaped doorand my elongated shadow--     rain blinked from the grou.. http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/eglatine/988039/