<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar/10494327?origin\x3dhttp://intriguingpoems.blogspot.com', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Why I Am Not A Painter

            A l l   C o n t e n t     ©2005-2021           E m i l i e  H a n s o n            e-mail             twitter                Minneapolis, MN               links & archives

            a pile of mostly raw and probably bad poetry

            on the internet
            in the hopes of creating something better

            This blog is not CLEAN and is not meant to be.
            Useful critique appreciated, i.e. specific comments and suggestions.

            You need not identify yourself unless you want to;
            comments will be judged on value, not the source. (Although knowing the source can be useful.)
            Unsupported heckling OR praise are not appreciated.

            Also, I vaguely apologize if you're my friend and you see yourself or others we know here.
            I am aware that that can be unsettling
            but that's the risk you run being friends with a writer. Also,
            maybe you're just being paranoid. Also,
            there is never a clear picture of reality

 

hearing

1.

we say i love you
with our fingers. (if we speak, the words
become concrete.) only i take
sign language, so you use the manual
alphabet. you are slow and it
confuses me: when did that word
end? when did the next end?
like we're not expecting.

2.

when i misinterpret your joke, you
are suddenly romantic, until i notice
the mismatch in our gaze. bestill
my hand, your hand on my hand,
and you whisper: did you undrstnd?

i won't say it. LOOK-AT-ME: (you shake
your head)I THINK I KNOW YOU FIRST TOLD-ME YOU LOVE
YOURSELF, TEASING. SECOND PART, YOU THINK
YOU LOVE ME, LAST WORD FINGERSPELL AGAIN?

3.

i think it is "A-L-S-O,"
but when i ask, it is too quick and we settle
for staring, holding hands, and suddenly
i cannot see you, my head floating on
your chest. i barely breathe and i cannot
see or hear what it is you believe in.

Comments: Post a Comment

<< Home

Archives

January 2005   February 2005   March 2005   August 2005   December 2005   January 2006   March 2006   April 2006   May 2006   July 2006   August 2006   October 2006   November 2006   December 2006   January 2007   February 2007   March 2007   May 2007   June 2007   July 2007   September 2007   June 2011   July 2011   October 2012   November 2012   December 2012   January 2013   February 2013   March 2013   April 2013   May 2013   June 2013   July 2013   September 2013   October 2013   November 2013   March 2014   April 2014   May 2014   June 2014   July 2014   August 2014   September 2014   October 2014   December 2014   March 2015   July 2017   August 2017   September 2017   October 2017   February 2021   December 2022  

           Links

            adam.
            elimae.
            pastsimple.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?