Verse Poem - Tumblr Posts
Thieves' Lament
There’s noses on yer trail, so careful where ye tread. The road grows ever-rocky with that price upon yer head.
The bone collector’s wagon is nigh upon yer heels. Don’t let yer burdens drag ye down beneath misfortune’s wheels! We thieves are all like rainbows, no good until it rains, and lawmen need no halos to put a soul in chains. So keep yer boots on dreamin’, and a pistol near yer bed, ‘cause the Devil, he’s comin’ and he wants us sinners dead.
© JM Tiffany
The Murder of Molly Brown
Have you seen the cat-tails Shifting beneath the bridge, Gathered in the shadows Down by the water’s edge? Have you heard the whispering That rustles in the reads? The rushes, they are speaking For there’s blood upon the weeds. And there’s a faint impression, A sadness in the air. A ghost of trauma lingers on To guide the seeking stare. And now down to the water We’ll gaze beneath the sheen To see the lifeless angel there, Drifting and serene. We wonder at her beauty, Her breasts, pale and bare, And curious we tremble: Is that image truly there? But then the water shimmers And things are put a’ right. But, Molly Brown was murdered here, And just the other night.
©️ JM Tiffany
There was this boy, checkered Vans and we played charades in the back of the bus sixteen we sometimes we would always miss it and we would walk into the ring and he would eat his vanilla ice-cream and our eyes would meet in full contact but I would fight in southpaw; our moves were mirrored but we never managed never dared to really hit. His sticky chocolate eyes melted onto my black leather gloves and our words took our hearts into a headlock, silently skimming the sides of every post of his sweet Cupid’s bow with bare knuckles, untied shoes. One day he just wasn't at the bus stop I waited and waited he called and said "I took bus fourteen" but I loved him too much and he didn't love me enough to sucker punch.
disqualified | © Margaux Emmanuel
thirty percent off
You should go inside
You should see all the pretty girls
You should’ve seen this one, oh boy her-
No thanks,
I just came here for the view
but the percent
wept
sang
in his smile
and betrayed
the slang and meth
hanging in his mouth
the poor lighting
the off-key voice crack karaoke
the interrupted sentences.
Quarter to three am
unfamiliar sheets
biting
married men’s skin
dampened by the nightlight
the droopy eyes
hell’s sigh
the sunlight inching
through the curtains
counter-clockwise
pushed
through the streets
of dawn
neon shards
of billboards
promoting their lives
unnamed bodies
still warm
still moaning
by their side
an ache
an itch
in their thighs
they stain
the pavement
with their silent cries
Is this what it’s like
to be dead,
or are we alive?
hitches a ride
into their minds
they still have
pictures of their kids
in their wallets
along with a string
of unattached numbers
for the occasional hunger
oh, no
they were
thirty percent off
I would’ve never
sunbaked hearts
fall apart
a la carte
but oh,
it doesn’t matter
as long as it stays
in the dark.
© Margaux Emmanuel