Let's be honest

I asked who i was
and it landed me on this barstool
i requested romance
and now i'm stuck
swimming in this bottle
shrunk down to the size of a moth
and behaving quite the same

the most i can ask for
at this point
is the ironic satisfaction
i get when i drink
from the tit
of a baby's bottle

Jackson's Qualms

i want to explode
kick and scream
in a flash of light
i want to be a firework
the glorious ascent
and a simple exit
that inspires
oo's and aah's
or the covering of ears
an impact nonetheless
i want the nurse to walk in
i want to let everyone know
but it must be kept a secret
for darkness
and closets
and best friends who understand
understand so well
there's no point in talking about it
kept a secret
for girls with sympathetic lips
and smiling eyebrows
or for mockingbirds
so i'll finally
be able to relate to something

instead i
scribble furiously
scribble myself onto paper
scribble a portrait of aches
and confusion
a portrait that no one can paint
ill scribble until the pen breaks
until my heart sinks
until the paper is shredded
and i'm left in tears
sorting scraps
and pounding the table
that has disappointed me again

Late Night Haiku

there is something romantic
about wine bottles
after i have emptied them




warmly romantic
comforting
lonely at my desk

The Funny Thing is...

skeletons are made of math
phospholipid fingertips
hearts are stopwatches

lips ooze with honey
throats swallow gold coins
and regurgitate ashes
which bend the sun
and tarnish feathers

homes are made of melting ice
pyrite smiles
sympathies are pins and needles

yet, i still don't know how i feel
about this outfit

these women keeping
me up all night

and your insightful assumption
that everything is falling apart

_jackson grind

She

She lingers alongside
a stubborn cloud of smoke
amongst cigarette butts
and rose petals
cradling hope for the morning
when her name will be painted
in the sky
and she won't be afraid to follow

blanketed in delusion
the bottom branches of the oak
laugh, as they did when she was young.
skyscraper penthouses
kiss the clouds more audaciously
and wink in her direction.

It may be she's lost an inch or two
or maybe, at her specific
latitude and longitude
the ground sinks
until her fingertips
glance off the apple

yet still, she taunts the sea
dodging the waves
and shooting seductive looks
upwards, toward the moon
making him blush
and the tide roll in

_jackson grind

It's a Trap!

hey sugar,
would you like to escape?
to my well decorated appartment

we can get stoned
ill turn on music
light a candle

leave the unbuttoning to me
if you can wait

shadows of last night
have yet to be licked from the mirror

which you look very pretty in

let me count your freckles
and the ridges of your lips

baby,

ive got you surrounded

_Jackson Grind

_________________________

estrogen

Glitter

I spied one moth white
flying against a stormy november night
and she was me
destined for disaster
but rare and alive nonetheless
perhaps one distant day
nameless we'll be pressed
in a yellowing page
fragments of an age
once moonlit and warm
mistaking any given ray of light
for the morn
Francesca Calabrese
________________________

Savior

Make me forget the past.
This is all I ask.Take my hand and lead,
And bring me back.
Back to who I am
Back to who I've always been
And yet to be, I am,
Yours, eternally.
Flow like a river,
Rushing through my soul
Until you are my insides,
And make me whole.
Take the clouds and part them
Walk across the sea
Pray to God for wisdom
And let us be, love.
Let us be.

_Copyright ©2007 Francesca Rebecca Calabrese