Ghosty Me In the ghost that was me there were more than a me. There were parts that are missing and parts that were found. Down silent hallways in silent rooms surrounded by stormy voices. Locked in closets, inside locked trunks tied down to floor ties and splintered wood, in splintered minds and splintered souls, …
Poems About Nothing so many poems go on and on about… nothing so many poems about fall’s tapestry and war, about blood’s blame, about the human act to hate commingling with love. more poems about the willow’s wisp, the aspen’s golden shower, the maple’s scarlet leavings all add up to an airy white puff from …
Hornet’s Nest Splayed open I had a heart, sweet meat my parents made a feast of. A chamber for her A chamber for him. They dined on it again & again. When devoured, in its place they placed a woody pulp honest nest. That’s always a buzz, never at rest. Alert. Anxious. Always. © SB …
Poem Number 6, The Intelligent Machine I’ve met a set of yellow cavity ridden Bloodied gummed teeth That eats every thought ever thought Attached to a machine That crunches the bones of cattle like words Its’ a monster Analyzing and spitting answers in my face Its’ tongues licks me up and down Sizing me up …
Folgers As a child the Folger’s coffee can got more touches then I. So, I learned how to get real small, learned how to cram myself inside that can hoping to feel the warmth of my father’s hands and not their backsides. © SB Joy, 2022 As a child I could smell the Folger’s brewing, …
Dogma Mine Forgive me, for I can be a contaminate Spewing forth toxins, splattering everybody with stench, the slow smell of sulfur That’s filling your brains and my nostrils My tongue is a fire and my jowls a jackhammer. I have just eaten my prey and it is you I have dined on your weakness …
Angry river, you’ve blistered my veins You’ve belched out slashes with your flailing arms and gnashing fangs Sunk deep into my heart’s darkness, where I’ve been drunk on those scares for sixty years. © SB Joy, 2022 oh resentment, I’ve been drunk on your loving ways SB Joy
Skinned A family can survive major pruning. The loss of parent, grandparent, child. However, a family tree can’t survive without its bark. The stripping away of my childhood’s outer layer. The intentional toughing up routines backfired, thinning the skin until raw and every word or touch burned like a bare light socket sunk into my …
Sour Words streamed from my eyes pooling into a paragraph of tangerines, lemons & limes. Oh, how I wish I never tasted you, Mother’s milk. © SB Joy, 2021 mother’s milk gone soured. SBJ
Silence Fifty years plus, silenced & caged. To write is to free the golden finch, imprisoned at eight, by a man’s filthy hands, reaching where claws don’t belong. The golden finch’s songs ruptures the cage & silence’s song. © SB Joy, 2021 What song has trauma silenced in you? SBJ
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