Stained Glass
Posted by Melissa Pavri | Filed under Poetry, Print
love’s
a stained
glass window
it doesn’t see
faults the same way we
do, dull godforsaken
oracles of demise but
rather reminds us that the most
divine things have cracks on the outside
we can’t help but shatter beneath its light
Dreamcatcher
Posted by Melissa Pavri | Filed under Poetry, Print
Dream
Catcher,
Be my smile,
Deflect my fate.
I know you won’t last
Forever but promise
You will age majestically.
Do not fear the cracking of teeth,
It is the simple proof that you have
Let a thousand good things pass through your breach.
Excel
Posted by Melissa Pavri | Filed under Poetry, Print
crestfallen
sitting in a sea of coffee and tedium
hands
frowning quills
hungering for something worth writing about
i am old world weariness
zipped into high waisted slacks
sunday morning bubbles
burst in my pockets
whatever was left of
saturday champagne fantasy
it’s monday
the week ahead
crushes the small of my back
an all too familiar load that
leaves its depression on my spine
a hypnotic qwerty humdrum
colonizes my fingers
and i begin typing
manic
shackled to the keys
hands ticking
like a bewitched clock
pupils tightrope walking
two invisible axes
through some magnetic field
to a blur of recycled words
and reversed equations
i gawk at the tiny font
on my screen
like a dumb beast
trying to make sense of the world around me
astonishing
how every character pops
in and out of existence
as if it were
just
that
simple
funny mindless little creatures
happy to live in rectangles
i blink twice to make sure i am
still human
still made of flesh
and skin
and soul
i know
this view is skewed
mechanics beyond my control
myopic to the bone
something like
one way tunnel vision
on a yellow desert road
two by two
numbers and nonsense
wake from sleepy trenches
like possessed men and
march across the screen
into an alternate universe
where ideas go to die
this matrix of monotony
and vapid spreadsheets
where the secrets of the cosmos
take on numeric disguise
where everything looks freakishly similar
slipping into cracks
deathly afraid of being greater than something
scared of being significant
until i whisper
fly to the moon
outliers
and take your souls with you
when you get there
free the comet in your chest
so i can follow it to the sky
i will fasten my days
to the backs of fireflies
and wish them
magic migration
to yesteryear
i used to be
wondrous and technicolored
i want to fix this broken mirror
Contemporary Magic
Posted by Melissa Pavri | Filed under Poetry, Print
i am bobby pin legs and elastic waist
trapped in a cylinder of vertigo
painstaking pointe and smooth taupe tights
carefully stenciled perfection on a ballet studio wall
i look like fairytale divinity etched on a bathroom stall
rainbow fingers and corn valley stomach
horizon collarbone and polar hips
willowy arms and lightning rod spine
there is nothing organic in this
only complex derivations of the most basic elements
today god is a mathematician and
i am his paper doll proof
that nothing has changed since creation
that human structure is as glorious and simple
as a fleck in his iris
there is nothing as stunning
nothing as unaffected
as movement that breaks the wooden bars
of a vivaldi concerto
to find the beauty of offbeat splendor
of unconventional wreckless abandon
of arched backs and splayed palms
of loosened hair and unbridled feet
of legs rushing away from each other
like star-crossed lovers
my body outweighs me and
i spill the freight of my existence
crooked perfection and a fucked up ventral axis
an unhinged jaw and a savage pelvis
i imagine the earth slipping from my knees
to gather seven feet in front of me
a dark blue sea of everything i am
before i can count the consequences I jump in
no inhibitions and careless abandon
twilight wandering and deep sleep delirium
tiptoeing on the cracking foundation of order
to wake the deities in the floorboards
they call me contemporary magic
but i am a thousand queens stacked ancient
just tired of jewellery box static
when no one’s watching
i peel an old soul from my satin frame
hunch my shoulders and flex my feet in anarchy
the feisty tyrants in my arches
wrinkle up and name me blasphemy
i want to forget propriety and coded language
escape the very confines of my being and
christen myself lady libertine
for the sake of moonlit freedom and
sweating something fierce from passionfruit lips
there is something beautifully mortal
in this
in disregarding lines
in being utterly shameless
i want to come undone in my own skin
catch the star of all my strife and
let it wreak havoc between my thighs
