okaypoetry.com is a portfolio site with a clean and simple design that prioritizes the reader experience. You may filter content by category (Poetry, Prose) subject area (self/identity, nature, relationships...), and form (rhymed, unrhymed...) Try now by scrolling to the bottom of this post, find the tag cloud, and click a tag that interests you. Standard… Continue reading How to Navigate This Site
Time tends to create an opaque membrane,with more limited optical clarity, behind the lenses of eyes that automatically adjust for distant targets,when someone, who is very fond of blue,comes near.It draws the taupe veneer of historyover the windows of the heart,goading light from the front of the house—What if I could shine from inside out?—to… Continue reading Someday This Will All Be Gone
LISTEN HERE. I hope you are okay. Thanks. That's all I have to say about that. Interesting how many platitudes have an opposite impact of their intent. Interesting how "hope" can be used to mean expect. Do I have an obligation to meet others' expectations, even when it is not I who them? Do I… Continue reading I Hope You Are Okay
I like how you spend your timebreathing— into your pelvic fire,to help signal a feeling of release,balancing contentment with desire,because it is necessary for holiness. I like how you spend your timeeating—what makes you pucker:green tea, Montmorency cherries;steeling yourself for loose hunger,and for whomever says: Yes, please. I like how you spend your timedrinking—from an… Continue reading I Like How You Spend Your Time
shoulder padsa cigarette burn on my left shoulder her middle namea battle with me at the middlesecond helpings of mashed potatoestoo little pride to succeed, too much to ask for helphow to win Monopolyhow to cheathow to cheat the systemNintendo 64an excuse for asking: “Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you love… Continue reading Things My Mother Gave Me [That I Did Not Ask For]
Never is honey as rawas its origin flower, at the moment of dehiscence,giving in to the releaseof seeds, pollen, and the quiet that comes after —the spontaneous openingalong a single crackof built-in weakness,where the wound fails to heal. Mark how the wisteria behaves,dripping from a ceilingin the 1900 blockof NE Schuyler Street;how its winglike petals… Continue reading The Raw Touch
