greatpoetry | Entries tagged with molly peacock

aubschoosesjoy.livejournal.com

The best thing about a hand made pattern is the flaw.
Sooner or later in your hand-loomed rug
among the squares and flattened triangles,
a little red nub will soar above a blue field,
or a purple cross will sneak among
the neat ochre teeth of the border.
The flaw we live by, the wrong bit of floss
that wreathes among the uniform strands
and, because it does not match,
makes a red bird fly,
turns that blue field into a sky.
It is almost, after long silence, a word
spoken aloud, a hand saying through the flaw,
I'm alive, discovered by your eye.

Current Mood: content
Current Music: Next to Normal (Original Cast)

bitsofbeauty.livejournal.com

When I get nervous, it's so hard not to.
When I'm expected to come in something
other than my ordinary way, to
take pleasure in the new way, lost, not knowing

how to drive it back to sureness ... where are
the thousand thousand flowers I always pass,
the violet flannel, then the sharpness?
I can't, I can't ... extinguish the star

in a burst. It goes on glowing. Your head
between my legs so long. Do you really
want to be there? I whimper as though ...
then get mad. I could smash your valiant head.

"You didn't come, did you?" Naturally, you know.
Although I try to lie, the truth escapes me
almost like an orgasm itself. Then the "No"
that should crack a world, but doesn't, slips free.

distraught.livejournal.com

I love desire, the state of want and thought
of how to get; building a kingdom in a soul
requires desire. I love the things I've sought-
you in your beltless bathrobe, tongues of cash that loll
from my billfold- and love what I want: clothes,
houses, redemption. Can a new mauve suit
equal God? Oh no, desire is ranked. To lose
a loved pen is not like losing faith. Acute
desire for nut gateau is driven out by death,
but the cake on its plate has meaning,
even when love is endangered and nothing matters.
For my mother, health; for my sister, bereft,
wholeness. But why is desire suffering?
Because want leaves a world in tatters?
How else but in tatters should a world be?
A columned porch set high above a lake.
Here, take my money. A loved face in agony,
the spirit gone. Here, use my rags of love.

natelyswhore.livejournal.com

The Lull

The possum lay on the tracks fully dead.
I'm the kind of person who stops to look.
It was big and white with flies on its head,
a thick healthy hairless tail, and strong, hooked
nails on its raccoonlike feet. It was a full-
grown possum. It was sturdy and adult.
Only its head was smashed. In the lull
that it took to look, you took the time to insult
the corpse, the flies, the world, the fact that we were
traipsing in our dress shoes down the railroad tracks.
"That's disgusting." You said that. Dreams, brains, fur,
and guts: what we are. That's my bargain, the Pax
Peacock, with the world. Look hard, life's soft. Life's cache
is flesh, flesh, and flesh.

Current Music: death cab for cutie || stability

maneater.livejournal.com

How I Come to You
Molly Peacock

Even a rock
has insides.
Smash one and see
how the shock

reveals the rough
dismantled gut
of a thing once dense.
Making the cut

into yourself,
maybe you hoped
for rock solid through.
That hope I hoped,

too. Dashed
on my rocks was my wish
of what I was. Angry,
dense and mulish,

I smashed myself and found my heart
a cave, ready to be
lived in. A start,

veined, unmined.
This is how I come to you:
broken,
not what I knew.

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
						1
2	3	4	5	6	7	8
9	10	11	12	13	14	15
16	17	18	19	20	21	22
23	24	25	26	27	28	29
30	31

I Eat Poetry

Entries tagged with molly peacock

The Flaw - Molly Peacock

Have You Ever Faked an Orgasm? - Molly Peacock

Why I Am Not a Buddhist - Molly Peacock

Molly Peacock - The Lull

(no subject)

Profile

Navigation

March 2025

Syndicate

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags