Tag Archives: ms-poetry

Ms – Poetry of Smell – Of Coffee and Candles

No cheaper way to start the day but powerful and wakes you. u

Smokey rooms, bars, and dark hallways,

vapors sliding past each other. ©

Alone, with loved ones,

bitter lingering. ¤

Memories of wax and warm chocolate nights. ῼ

And a fruit-like perfume my mother sometimes wore. ¥

In comes the scent, out goes the stress. o

Playing chess, being comfy, and an old coffee shop,

in my hometown. ⱴ

Naming: Coffee, Coffee, Candel (First off I can’t spell), Candal,

late night TV benders. Ѭ

Agitated, nervous. Reminds me of walking into Yankee Candles in the mall,

I hate malls. Ю

Cruddy coffee scents tingle my dry nose hole,

other people’s breath. EW. Ҩ

Like a small business opened by and indisputably ‘perky’ woman,

post-sorority, one part coffee shop, one part scrapbooking boutique. Ѿ

Home on 45th street, hanging upside-down on the couch,

I realized then how hard she worked to take care of me. ҉

 

u-Rhys

©-Marisa

¤-Gabrielle

ῼ-Liberty

¥-Siproena

o-Mike

ⱴ-Nat

Ѭ-Jon

Ю-Joshua

Ҩ-Alayna

Ѿ-Mary

҉-Andre

 

**This poem is a cento created from the brilliance that is our class. Many of these lines were powerful or spoke to me in some way. Thank you all for sharing your poetic abilities to create such an interesting patchwork. **

Ms – Poetry of Smell – Happiness

Cashmere Perfume

Undertones of cigarette smoke

delicate butts

rimmed with pink lipstick

Diet Pepsi … the gold can

with a straw

The consistent smell of Christmas.

I could so easily be a chain smoker too …

her constant inhale/exhale

Too hot in the winter

Too cold in the summer.

Bridgette the dog’s slobbery tumble

across the lawn.

Gramps shows me the sprinkler box

-sometimes you can catch a frog

plopped in for a drink- he says

They quit smoking when gramps got cancer.

But every now and again

I still smell grams’ perfume

and undertones of cigarette smoke.

 

Ms – Poetry of Smell – Nervousness

Tide Detergent + Compost

Tipsy knocking on your door

(Dreadful) dread inoculates my veins

I whine drunkenly

for you to help me

I want to vomit

not from the alcohol

but because you’re not alone.

My face flushes

in embarrassment

I wish it could always be

you and me

and that this icy hot flushing dreadful dread

would go… some place else

Because every time I kiss you

it feels like my soul is weeping

and it won’t stop

until time does.

 

 

What good is this clean room?

these taut sheets?

a swept floor?

If you can’t be here

with me.

Wake me up with your touch

fuck up

with me

destroy this room

with me

where perfection lies

grounded by my side

with me

Be here

with me.

Ms – Poetry of Smell – A Darkness

Artificial Cherry Hand Lotion

The house, the key

my body, broken,

Heart

a nervous beating.

I am a child

so scared

her nails dig into my arm

Why can’t you be pretty?

like your sister

You look like a boy.

But I’m not a boy.

no

Her perfume…

chokes me.

I fantasize about her death.

I would wear a beautiful sun dress.

Everyone would cry.

But I would smile.

And spit on her face.

asking her why, why

she’s not pretty.

like me

**Punctuation and spacing are huge for me in terms of how the poem looks aesthetically and reads. This one has been in the depths of my mind for awhile… maybe that’s why it’s so dark.