Patreon poem is up!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/433-82289152

4'33

I think there’s atheism in how I touch myself
like this.

#poetry #corvusrobotica

His broad chest and my hands,
like a memory of a child
at the shoreline,
I dig my fingertips
in
hope to find something
to put to my ear.
The sound of blood rushing,
it’s enough to convince me
there’s an ocean here.

#corvusrobotica #poetry

My therapist asked me if I thought creating
a beast in my mind helped me heal,
I said she’s not for healing, I do the healing.
She holds me in her mouth when I scream,
She tells me how to shred
all the thoughts belonging to what made it necessary
for me to heal.

#poetry #corvusrobotica #traumathoughts

Patreon poem is up.

Miasma

https://www.patreon.com/posts/81364210

coughing up a membrane from my throat of mucus tinged pink
with creation. While I slept my body ushered me back into a womb

#poetry #corvusrobotica

HI can I ask for a Patreon boost?

I publish two poems a month, it's my main output of creative writing apart from this mastodon feed. The income helps me pay my bills, if you like poetry please sub, if you are curious please sub. I have some great ideas for the upcoming months and I'd love it if you saw it.

https://www.patreon.com/Ceciliek

#poetry #corvusrobotica

Poems from the future

It’s raining and you get up
with an ache in your hip,
but you get up. And it’s not so bad the coffee tastes
like the one your grandmother makes but its you hands
guiding the process.

You love.
like you did when you were a child but slower,
and with more controlled movements,
but still you kick your feet and
smile like everything is bursting.
and everything is bursting.

#corvusrobotica #poetry

Patreon poem is up

https://www.patreon.com/posts/landlord-special-80002703?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link

This isn't a poem it's a collection of places I don't go,
and words I don't speak.
This is too sharp to be a poem, it's a collection of words
for leaving
that's tattooed on my heart and how the irony of it
isn't lost down between my old collections
of poetry about being the one who leaves first.

#corvusrobotica

Bottle green dreams and glitter eyeshadow
is dripping from me on the bus I think there's something
in the sun that sticks to me
like lipstick kisses. Telling everyone
something caught my heart,
and how my sternum is crystals that keeps throwing prisms around.
There's a song stuck in my throat
like an adam's apple, and it bobs up and down
when I speak today.

#corvusrobotica #poetry

If I could start over I'd change my name, I'd mold my tongue
Like a child'd hand reaching for a cat with love and selfishness.
I would accept all the scratches when my name didn't fit the expectation, I would crawl on the floor and say it's fine. It's
debasing how much I'd twist for someone to say it's good.
What rubbish,
in the end my name is a drop of blood.
#corvusrobotica #poetry

Patreon poem is up

How To Eat A God

https://www.patreon.com/posts/how-to-eat-god-77497767?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link

(If I am not the knife, or the flesh,
am I the altar?)

#poetry #corvusrobotica

You have let your knees heal,
they whisper that the mountains
were carved by waters
who were much less cruel than you.
And you wonder
if it is feasible to want
to be held by a city
so much you keep flinging yourself
at it over and over,
like driftwood in the shape of a woman,
who wants to be a monster.
(Although either is just a word for something unattainable
you’ve trained
others to see you as.)
(And you sit on your throne of desire)

#corvusrobotica #poetry

The poet tries to connect to humans through language—

Last year I was words like
spittle, tripe, simulacrum, post-, floralrot.

This year I hope to be
echo, lapping, yield, effulgence, glimmerdance

#corvusrobotica #poetry

Happy new years.

First poem of the year is up.

Yellow Eyes

We lay
throat on throat
in the late twilight of winter morning

https://www.patreon.com/posts/76611959

#poetry #corvusrobotica

give me your mouth it calls to me like an open doorway,
or a train station.
I’ll enter and linger too long,
thinking of all things that have passed between us,
I think of how the time ticks loudly for the both of us in goodbye after
goodbye,
and how I wish I wasn’t leaving yet.

#corvusrobotica #poetry

give me your mouth it calls to me like an open doorway,
or a train station.
I’ll enter and linger too long,
thinking of all things that have passed between us,
I think of how the time ticks loudly for the both of us in goodbye after
goodbye,
and how I wish I wasn’t leaving yet.

#corvusrobotica #poetry

And there’s a way in which we sing the same songs
in different notes
that tell me I’ll never be known
like I wish to be.
What irony
to feel untouched like this
being who I am.

#corvusrobotica #poetry

And there’s a way in which we sing the same songs
in different notes
that tell me I’ll never be known
like I wish to be.
What irony
to feel untouched like this
being who I am.

#corvusrobotica #poetry

I’ve taken on the stench of rotten oranges,
sweet and rancid.
You would think I learned
how to own a bed, by now,
I’ve learned how many places will make my back ache
like a set of unkept teeth.
Almost
every morning I swaddle my flesh into familiar shapes,
only to shred it like fruit peel
when I return home.
to crawl into my pile of blankets,
to eat clementines by the handful. And forget
the faces that made me want to burst open
like an overripe mess
throughout the day.

#corvusrobotica

I’ve taken on the stench of rotten oranges,
sweet and rancid.
You would think I learned
how to own a bed, by now,
I’ve learned how many places will make my back ache
like a set of unkept teeth.
Almost
every morning I swaddle my flesh into familiar shapes,
only to shred it like fruit peel
when I return home.
to crawl into my pile of blankets,
to eat clementines by the handful. And forget
the faces that made me want to burst open
like an overripe mess
throughout the day.

#corvusrobotica

Home is where your heart is but I’ve been told
I’m heartless.
So what if home is a forgotten promise,
or a blackout evening? What if home is a man
I loved in 2014 and even if the house is torn down
I dream about the key I owned.
My heart isn’t asking to be put in its place
it’s asking to be put on its knees,
and I’m building wax houses
that melt every summer,
and I'm building bird houses
to be abandoned when the winter comes.

#corvusrobotica #poetry