emotion – Page 21 – Jordyn Saelor

Whence the Waters Wailed

Flighty fingers hold the key to the pit in my gut where I bottle all my resentment. You know what you said, bedhead, but I pretended

Letters for when the Love Lies

Let’s begin with the cure: I am consciously aware that what my thoughts tell me are not the truth. But sometimes they creep in insidiously, a mosquito’s sickle tooth,

Spirits of my Past

July’s firefly sky left your breath to rattle leaves and imprint the wind. *** Check out my buymeapizza page, I inconsistently add poems over there but recently posted a new one.

Hallowmas

Más y Menos, los superheroes rapidos, are tired out today but you’re more tired out than they why don’t you want to play racin’ round the Christmas tree

The Imp in the Candle

Pebbles pelt and words welt, these weapons came worst this last orbit of the sunbelt, in the sweltering storms I feared I’d melt and my wax armor

Yuh (slang for you)

If you’re young enough to know what’s hip these days, you know saying hip probs ain’t it, that was like ten years ago, kids these days say

Another night of feeling sad, another poem for a balm– like showering each day, I run these words as soap over the sorrow of my soul and the clean scent makes it all better for a little while. *** I’ve been listening to Kate Bush a lot recently, and this song has perfect winter vibes.Continue reading “Another For a Balm”

Christmas Keening

Fill me up, or don’t it’s no big deal I come to the feast hungry, really, it’s fine, I can eat later. Later, when there’s space for me at the table. — Red wrapping paper, winter sleds, plans to wake up early from our beds. As kids, we got dozens of gifts we wanted. ButContinue reading “Christmas Keening”

Voyage to Save the World/Hello and Goodbye Forever

Hello, I’m on a voyage to save the world.
Will you come along?
We’re all a little bit crazy here, a touch…

In the Barrow Den

They gnaw not the bones of marrow, for the wolves run tomorrow. Knot the knobs of Nottingham with red tape, the full moon’s crimson tonight and the werewolves are stalking out of spite royal delicacies rich royals on knees too weak to flee– gnaw not at the knots of fraying nerves, they won’t save you,Continue reading “In the Barrow Den”