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Poetry Blog Established 2011 by Kayla Ephros and Livia Charman ©

Thesaurus Stuck on Sing


I’d like to introduce a new body of work

soft and smooth

book spines studded with

stones lined up

to spell something


a new series of pipes,

a jungle gym


the clouds were so fresh today

that I cried on behalf

of desire

for a cloud-painted ceiling

as a kid, and the kind of


that it would bring

to childhood


I recall the supine trap 

and can see the cracks now

the most dreadful time of day

stamped by fading light 


I’d rather sing a song

one that you know and love

I’d rather ignore some shapes in

this bubble


tell you something like

a sharpened pencil


but the clouds were babies today

and it got me to the first step of crying 


the shapes of dreams are 

so corner like curved hinges

on my head book binding on the side


everything should be a corner

every bite 

stealing from a spiritual friend

and her shadow workshop

we all know our shadow selves

are wearing a leg numbing

low rise skinny jean


Shadows from Nowhere

I’d rather sing a song you know and love


I always wanted to do the shit

where you start singing while reading a poem

Some people cry the blues, I never could...

I had the brightest smile in town…

But you took it baby and turned it upside down

a song about drawing or 

photoshop or magic

a best of 70’s men

singing love songs

the stress of the rest

of men Scattered like scarecrows 

barking and calling me sir

when they see my face

my skater boy ego

my baggy shadow


stealing lines from my best friend she says

the sun is the best artist 

she says turned on 

and sings it Syrup

tonight I linger 

on the delicate bangers

and by the way I weep

and wonder

where are they now

read her track list like

the beauty supply from a parallel 


studded with colder verbs and

elegant trappings

like things just die

but a coloring book 

filled with chimes


getting super trashy about

blending where now I can’t find anything 


I can tell you what it’s like but

mostly how well it works


I wanna be the girl 

singing Fado in the fish restaurant 

holding her sparkling necklace at her heart

while her family eats sardines in silence

the waiters stop in their tracks

I imagine her family at home together

their intimacy squashed by 

by my gawking presence

the echo 

it’s a new syrup and by the way I weep

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square 1a

slowly drawing diamonds
(and their shadows)
coming to something like
a clearing, or at least believing
there will be one, eventually

traveling with the big song that cuts

when love can be the glint again
always right here
on my table

I observe with narrowed eyes
this glint, or whatever
the birds/sun

shoulders slumped
over love
the hot potato
swallow sharing
hide from god
while I revisit
what I make
as love

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vibes of my poems for translation

abyss of night, beauty infinity, alone

laughing to myself, sensory overload, in tune with nature really feeling one with the neighborhood, giggling

dream logic, weird, symbols, school? reading/connecting

sexy, freedom in lucid dream, kinda weightless, dgaf


observation, walking, checking on the neighborhood, playing games with one friend at night, secret 


just feelin poetry and living


epiphanies, tender to myself, memories, watery, spent


spiritually pissed, surrender, acceptance, peace with shit


yearning, drugs, boy ego


drunk poet, 2nd part is about teaching in juvie, inside vs. outside, boundaries


sad, lamenting, mundane, turned on by mundane memories of places and things, remembering


also about teaching in juvie, feeling emotions in space, also inside/outside, being a grown up baby, basics


dream logic, confusion, yearning, cute, macro/micro


funny, sexy, word play like touching myself


heartbreak, history, time, pensive, still, literary


macro/micro, sexy play with words, fuck u kinda, feel like shit but having a tiny little fun with poem


heartbreak, body psychedelia, feeling stupid/little, yearning


dream obviously, unattainable, mysterious physicality, revealing things to myself, hide and seek, pissed, betrayed but calm


fantasy, dream confusion, how can we all be better ---> poet alone


god mixed with sex, spiritually pissed, resentful, but I’m better lol

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loose translation

I always leave the party so lucid

never drenched in it/who’s 

cleaning up


woke up from a big [party]

no memory but will write

it down on a paper 

towel, who’s 



to walk out on my mind

into the dirty world

free of consequence


starting to write


starting to sprout

starting to be

an old, hourly way

this place at 1, 2, 3 pm





starting to think, 

theoretically, about

how the cowboy said

never go to your room

in the daytime


the birdsongs

from the wings

the theater 

of the livelong day


the way its all moving 

the wind 



warbling the rosebush

petting my curtains

I’m blaming everything

on the wind today, everything!

its clinging outfit


I am the snowcap 

of mountain 1a


empathy measured

in obvious veins

the look of my bed 

[the stacked edge]

has me hungry for 

another character


I once played a lost boy

and now


my mind's? been gone

a vagabond, she visits 


phone to feel party


as for the sun

it’s earlier across the street

working for them like

a good oven, in circles

I move my chair to chase it

they throw balls through its rays

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