Poetry

Separation

By Billie Daddario

The words are stuck.

My brain is empty

There is nothing profound,

Or earthshaking.

The earth feels flat,

The colors muted.

There is no bird song.

I’m drained of you,

I’ve exercised your demons

Let go of so much of the dust of you.

Forgiven myself the impertinence

Of not watching you die,

But pretending we go on forever.

I know someday you will finally lay seize

To the martyrdom you crave.

For now, we will go on forever

With smiles that you bought at the five and dime.

Insincerities where there

Should be something else

Something that smells like

Lilacs and tastes like ipecac.

You devoured me,

Hoping I’d resurrect in your image.

There is enough of you.

Now we both hate

Through tin grins,

Hating what we are.

I strive to be more and more

It’s never enough

I am not you.

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

William Butler Yeats

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles

made:

Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the

honey-bee:

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace

Comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where

the cricket sings;

The midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a

purple glow,

And evening full of the limnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the

shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the

pavement grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

The River

By Billie Daddario

The Sun’s Reflection Sparkles.

It seems to bubble and laugh.

It’s wide here, but narrows as it bends gracefully.

Red, brown and green with a frosting of white bubble foam.

Framed on both sides by leafy green trees and lush grass.

In the trees birds that chirp over the bubbling torrent.

Soon the river will slow to a trickle, and the birds will be silent.

Soon the green will be bare.

Soon snow and ice will cover the ground.

Now the sun’s reflection sparkles

It seems to bubble and laugh

The river bubbles and laughs.

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Monday Poems

Emily Dickinson

I’m nobody! Who are you?

Are you nobody, too?

Then there’s a pair of us ——don’t tell!

They’d banish us, you know.

How dreary to be somebody!

How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog!

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i am

Billie Daddario

i am Henry Higgins’ Highness

i am cool chameleon colors or daybreak blue

i am clay stiff softening, becoming pliable with a warm touch

i am contemplative quite

and introspective screams

i am intricate like filigree

i am mostly my Father’s daughter

My total is greater than the sum of my parts

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