I’ve tried to write Succinctly, brutally, Vitally, seductively, But apparently, “Poetry” simply means Writing Like This – Sara Myriad, 2020
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Petals or Stars for Company
Let me not be a flower, With delicate blooms the sheerness of dreams, And a fondness for gentle touches, Or the longing to have my scent admired. Instead, let me be a comet Streaking through the night sky, Unashamed of my fire; dazzling, daring all to see. And yet….mysterious. Cold. Untouchable. – Sara Myriad
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Farewell to Summer
When my grandpa died, soon after my grandma, I drove up north with my husband, Thinking about an ice cream shop Where children sat and ordered real sodas That melted sticky sickly-sweet with ice cream. Of antique shops with names like Carousel, Matched by charming interiors. Or the flea market Only open on weekends, But I had all the…
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A Hole in the Ice
And when I leave you, It won’t be the gradual chill of winter mornings Found in the beginning of the season, When berries hang fat and red on their stems And birds puff up their feathers, Like old men hunched down in woolen scarves and mittens Lovingly made by old women. It will be a plunge into icy water, …
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Switch
I could circle you, ravenous, and take you as my prey, But I would rather roll onto my back gentle as clouds and let you have me under that watching blue sky. Control is an illusion but I keep reaching for it, Perhaps I’ve been waiting for the caress of words; the intoxicating loss of control. The muse imprisoned,…
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Lost Mirrors, New Seasons
And maybe you want to believe that every person who comes into your life is your soulmate or missing piece or the one who might finally save you. But maybe, they came into your life for something wonderfully human and brief and fragile: to introduce you to an author who writes into your soul or a song that says…
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Sequoias
I think, if I could live as long as they do, Maybe life wouldn’t be so mysterious Or maybe I would simply accept the mystery And not question it. Maybe I would be braver With my head in the clouds, If I knew my roots were deep as heartbeats. Maybe I would find myself beautiful With my russet bark,…
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Reflections
If you are a lake, (or any deep body of water, really)…. Please be wary of mirrors. You may see the smooth, glassy surfaces of these people and assume that they are like you, underneath. However, in time, you will realize what you thought were unplumbed depths, waiting to be explored lovingly, are nothing but your own emotions being…
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The Embers Still Burn
When was it that you lifted your shoulders in a shrug, and let the world have its way with you? When was it that you let the fire within you die, because passion is painful, and routine is safe and comfortable and easy? You were my furnace when my entire world was winter. But now you’re cold, and I’m…
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Gentle
When you tell me that there are aspects of my personality You find really unattractive I want you to know Every single flaw you perceive in me I have seen and examined in myself A thousand times more closely A thousand times more harshly And found terrible a thousand times greater Than you ever could. I have spent years…