God(s)
I’ve never seen God in my living room
Or felt the Holy Spirit in the candlelight
Or tasted the flesh of Jesus in the bread
But I’ve known Dionysus at the rave
Gifting me a bracelet and a hug
I’ve met Artemis in the bathroom
A chaste kiss shared between two strangers
Hestia is known to me as a waitress
Warm smiles and warm food feeling like home
And Athena cradled me in her classroom
Soothing my fears of never being enough
Sweet Apollo teaches me how to sing
How to dance and be merry
And swift Hermes teaches me how to run
How to breathe and how to endure
I may never meet the father and his son
Or the holiest of ghosts
But I will hold those everyday gods and goddesses close to my hearth
And keep them in my home
~SugaryPeas
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The Open Mouth of Time
I don’t want the ugliness
of the world today.
Please, don't make me.
I don't want to.
But it drips
from everything.
Crimson rivulets
that run into headline horrors
to fall and splatter
from the lips of liars.
I grip the sharp end
in self-defense
and pull the darkness close.
Please,
I say,
make it go away.
And so I cleave
until nothing is left.
This is not
what I wanted.
I wanted softness
and warmth,
and held hands
in a house of hearts.
I wanted a kind place to grow,
a place unknown to murder.
But the walls here,
they are red
and the dead,
they are with us,
and tomorrow stands
in the open mouth of time.
The trees are on fire
and more babies
are lost in the rubble.
I drink my coffee,
shout at my cat,
and spend the rest of the day
with my eyes closed.
© JM Tiffany 3/25/2024
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The way you spoke about the life you wanted for us was truly poetry
And never in my life have I begged time to be still until now
Just so I can hear the way you speak to me
I never wanted you to stop
While we were laid on the old floors
I didn’t want nothing more
I lived for your hard hands on me
And my breath on the linoleum floor
While your eyes stayed leveled to me
But I’ll die before I get to see that side of you again
Rare like the aroma that bleeds from fresh cut grass
Nothing last
Nothing was meant to
Like my ears you’d preach promises to
Now all your words are worth nothing more than my hand that ran through strands of your hair
The glances that we occasionally shared
And now gone with it was the life we were supposed to have
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It's all in how you look at it,
dark or light,
night or day,
or varying hues of gray.
When I was a child
I was scared of the world
wrapped in blackness.
I was scared of what
I could not see.
But as the world crushed my youth,
I've learned to love the void,
the silence of the night sky,
the empty of the dark.
I've come to terms with my monsters.
I now know that the ones I see
are far worse
than the ones I don't.
It's all in how you look at it,
dark or light,
night or day,
fearful or safe.
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This World Keeps Hurting Me
Although this world keeps hurting me
I still breed escape through fantasies
For when suffering begins my malaise to evolve
It propells me to search for the meaning in it all
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her on top of me, the thought i cant rid from my mind
her lips speaking to me and calling my name as her hand rests on my arm
her deep brown eyes, playful and inviting, encapsulating me in a feeling of mystery
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