Running November 14, 2012

I want to run through life, run to the places

That books are made of. Where life

Is lived. Where colours are painted

In new shapes and sizes round every block.

 

I want to run through life, talk to strange faces

And drink with the locals. I will drive cars

I can’t afford to buy – yet – and maybe

They’ll print my name where you can see.

 

I want to run through life, I can’t wait

Any longer. These hills look taller when

You’re standing right on top.

So will you run with me, or just sit down in the dirt?

 

 

I’ve been told that to inspire a more ‘communative blog’ or whatever that means, the blogger should ask a question to readers about a particular topic. So I’ll give it a go.

 

Is there anything you feel you can’t achieve because of circumstances holding you down?

three cheers November 7, 2012

by Elexa Rose

 

three cheers for the individual
that spray painted giant genitalia
on the side of the bus shelter
that i stand underneath every single day.
never before have i seen a pair of bollocks
not only large than my head
but also at the same height.
i can peek through their outline
like a porthole
or a frame for the rest of the world.

three cheers for the individual
that smoked a blunt behind the lecture block.
that small space near the bins
that i use as a short-cut to keep on time.
now everyone can do the same.
i couldn’t have hoped to spread the word
more thoroughly.

and three cheers for the kid who first yelled
FUCK IT.
and we did.
because without that kid i guess i would care more
about every ball sack i see
and every red-eyed stoner
and every walk of shame through the corridor.
fuck it, none of us care any more.

Petrarchan Sonnet October 3, 2012

my heart

my heart, to you, is a throw away thing
it’s a cheap plastic lighter
running out of gas.
the more i burn
the less i am.
and i cannot do, but yearn
and scream,
“just stop.”

my heart, to you, is a throw away thing.
wasting like the core of finished fruit
faded from your eye.
those lashes flicker away from me now,
and gaze
the other way.

Mermaid June 13, 2012

by Elexa Rose

 

I hold my breath

And I can lower myself

Under the water.

 

I can swim

Or rather I can’t but

I can look like I am.

 

It feels like it should

And I’m like everybody else

But better.

 

No one can see I’m faking it

Because no can see

Under here.

 

Smooth lines are distorted

It’s all out of focus

Under here.

 

And the water is a little warm

So that against my skin

I can barely feel it.

 

I can move

With slow resistance

With little thought.

 

But my lungs strain

I can’t hold it

For long.

 

And bursting through

The surface breaks

Thunder bangs on my ears.

 

I gasp at air

For a moment

Until I can go back down.

Trash May 25, 2012

by Elexa Rose

 

I don’t want to breathe

unless I’m

breathing in sickly sweet.

I will unwrap and suck and swallow.

I watch lights

in shapes of people,

they speak but

I don’t care.

My body

doesn’t want to move.

Why should it?

It sticks out where it should

slope inwards.

I wish my

eyes had that look,

that look that catches.

 

Trash

it spills over and

up the walls and

over my toes.

It runs.

 

Please don’t look at me

unless you really

want

something.

I’ll let you hold my

hands

and we’ll watch trash and

listen to trash

talk trash

smoke trash.

Intricate symbols

and electrical impulses

in our heads

let us feel

beautiful.

 

Lying May 3, 2012

by Elexa Rose

what did you do with him today
what did you give him
can it be that you
saw him like the others
walls watch you
from all four sides
pale beige walls
painted and peeling
like burnt skin

roll up roll up
its a mystery here today
rolled up the grass
within soft blades
looking up and watching
cupping your curves
round your bones
supple under your weight
comforting in your aid

hunting for angels May 3, 2012

by Elexa Rose

sip
if i wanted to
sip our drinks
glass lips
we reinterprate
whisps of words
we sink drowsily
slipping
groom long dark ideas
in liquids
that sit on with
us like sin
groping outward claws
pad at thin air
like hunting
for angels

Golden Syrup May 3, 2012

by Elexa Rose

my chest is lined with golden syrup
turned pink by the touch of my blood
i breathe in hard
the walls of my lungs
stick together
wrapped around my heart and
the veins going in and going out
it's solidifying
grabbing
a rich golden fist
it trickles out of my ears and nose
clogs my tear ducts
there are lumps in my throat
you can feel them if you press
on my neck
my sweat gets stuck
my voice is a thin husk
as i heave and swell
and burst slowly
still slowing.

Cityscape April 19, 2012

by Elexa Rose

men chasing men
like stags
dripping out
of water logged rooms
that smell like
stale whatifnots.
and very young girls
tearing up paper,
small receipts
they drop
and stuff
and clogg the drains up.
i am walking.
past: hopefully through
these mellow townspeople.
i do not wish
to touch their ink
or stain
my pale
wasting cheeks
with cheap red lipstick
kisses.
i watch them
without looking at them,
eyes straight,
view curved and bent.
my footsteps mimic
the haste in my
heart, without will
i slow it with dark
smoke: my lungs.
i cough, and they notice me.

You April 16, 2012

by Elexa Rose

 

Oh you, oh you,

the way you crack

your fingers backwards.

Too thick glasses,

too big for your face.

I am the one from a far

that has become

that quick little thumb rub

on the corner of your eye

when the day gets late.

Every short grumble or

chuckle rings clear

in between my ears.

My eyes, my skin, my head

is all drawn to your constant

pushing up of shirt sleeves

just because you can’t sit still.

I cannot help but watch,

other sounds dissolve when

my head runs over what I hope,

what I have to keep hope in.

Every day I bring the only thing.

And every day I resent

the moment you will walk home

again.