COLOR OF OUTDOORS

weight

Posted in Poetry by Mandy Joy Poole on 04/04/2018

i can feel my heart pounding in my ears
it is not fear
it is just the weight
just
that i carry around, three times the average
gravitational pull
i am quick
i am fluent
but i am heavy
it is a burden
shared by my relations
(they like to remind me)
that someone prettier
skinnier
has it all, and then some
words stick to me like tape                    even if only said once
and i struggle to peel them off
to not repurpose the tape for their mouths
i am quick
i am fluent
but I am heavy
the weight of your resistance
is more than my legs can carry

M.

could have been Anthony

Posted in Poetry by Mandy Joy Poole on 20/03/2018

my jaw clicks
it is the same click shared
by my uncles
and my dad
i often wondered
had i been born with-

 

out a purpose

had i been an Anthony
instead of what i am
would i be any different?
would i be
a parent
a poet
a-fraid
i have built engines
i have cut trees
i have fought wars (eternal)
i have kissed a girl
i have raised my voice
i have fallen in defeat
spent
and i am just as lost as ever
my jaw clicks
but only when i’m trying to tell you
that it doesn’t matter

M.

if you read it fast, it’s better

Posted in Poetry by Mandy Joy Poole on 13/03/2018

i found the draft
and caught the chill
between my fingers
time passes quicker than
street lights
20 seconds later
we all stop and watch the youngster
cross the road
holding our breath
hoping everyone’s obeying the rules
this road is long
and soggy, it’s the TLH in April
when you’re never quite sure
you got the clearance needed
and you pray to God or Moses
someone comes to get you if you’re more
than 8 hours on the road
i found the draft
and caught the chill
rolling up the window
ending the airstream
connecting me to the Mealy’s
and all the trees supporting my habit
of a cold deep breath.

M.