Poetic License: August 2001 Online Poetry Journal

Untitled
by Zeke

"Childhood"
by Sarah Bonifacio

"That Beat, I Hear It"
by Megan Diamondstein

Untitled
by A.M. Smith

Relic (Memento)
by Ramon Contrera

Untouchable Face
by Daniel Sanders

Untitled
by Farrah Fidler

Creeping Light
by VB

unfamiliar ceiling
by Taneka Stotts

A Lost Love
by P. Withers

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Untitled
by Zeke

last night i
turned my solar plexus towards the
solar system so that i might sleep
but this morning i was
suckerpunched by the sun and
some stupid sucker with a gun and a handful of
grey matter

but it doesn't matter much to me.

you see,
i spend my time
emblazoned in the space between
time and the page
i wish my blood was ink
so that i might
spit at paper and
right every wrong i have ever committed
against the comets.

i wish the world was my playground
yeah id be divin down landslides and
seesawing with the seven seas and
each blade of grass that weighed in
on the split decision she slit
her wrists on would know my name

yes friends, its the fight of the century
honesty vs gravity
hosted by YOUR MOTHER cuz
every daughter is someone's lover
and every singer someone's savior

and im thinking that
maybe my hormones
kick into full effect at nighttime cuz

i dreamt she was pregnant with my poetry
and i pray that the miscarriage was a mixed metaphor

for i don't need another
bloodied pen from a poem
aborted at birth because
my earthfingers were not
hot enough to
scar the paper the way my ancestors
were scarred by a sixpointed star
that has now become my
birthmark

and as hard as i tried to
cover my history with six million
grains of sand the waves that
crashed down when my grandmother
passed on were strong enough to
awaken everything i'd shoved down
into my gut, its not lovehandles, its
history baby, and because i couldn't handle
it, it manhandled me

so what? so wait
for history to
seize your veins and when it does
struggle in vain to save your sanctity
and appease the sun
with the beads of sweat
that sweeten the underbelly of
your tongue

while i

splatter my hearts canvas with sunlight
i spit thru my bent teeth/ and the
moon rotated in my fingernails
so that i might see my own face
when i hold my head in my hands/
only my bones understand me now
as i countdown everyday from
sunrise to bellybutton and back again
to a place that eclipses every
constellation ingrained in
the patterns of the skin
on gods belly
and he eats to quench his thirst
but one day his belly will burst
and we'll all be sucking on stars for a month
you know
let your tongue set the pace

cuz i believe in the sun
although i've never looked directly at it
i wish i could persuade myself to take
that same leap of faith with your face.