Samples from Poetry Zine # 4

Duende

© Love Beth Drew

Poetry Zine #4 Cover
Cover Image

“branch”

separate break apart you go your way I'll go
mine the sky as seen between the leaves
lying on our back looking up look up
hold the dark bark it's rough on the outside
smooth on the inside like me the air breathed
in the air breathed out the smoke and the
stars climbing higher to reach oblivion
you are my hope

“Initiation”

Writing letters to no one again
Feeling shame for feelings
Trapped in a collective consciousness
That does not suit
Like 100 per cent polyester
Too tight
Not right
Sweating it out
Night after night
Rolling on my side
Just to find my fantasy is denied.
Dear sirs and madams
of the Bureaucratic Desire,
Please be informed
That I’ve returned my uniform
And consider this
My resignation proper.
I’ve got bigger dreams
to fry
And fluids spreading across
my thighs
And a rash developing
on my Third Eye
From keeping my vision
so narrow all this time.

“Self-Portraits”

I.
She was a mean-spirited girl
electric to the touch and
smelling like protein.
She was a deep-seeded soul
wrapped around herself and
requiring too much care.
She was a grey-hearted muse
and a patron saint of
lost causes.

II.
She was:
a long-toothed spat
forbidden fruit
and a barrel of quinine.
A forgotten arboretum
full of black-spot roses
and an abandoned aviary
full of dead birds.
A lock without a key
and a key without a lock.
An upside-down smile
uneven graph paper
and faulty reception.
A paper-cut
a void of luck
and a twist tie to no end.


III.
She was
and is
and shall always be
what she was
and is
and shall always be.
And to that she knows no better
and can do no better
but she can also do no worse
nor be the worse for wear.

“least”
small and insignificant the most impressive thing
was also the thing that no one thought they could
handle it was with the least amount of pressure
that it came to him the ingenious moments of
creative spark through the dark damp you could
call it an epiphany but you could call it whatever
and it still wouldn’t come to your table for scraps
it's not yours