02.06

I’m late again. I know. I’m a terrible person. We’ve had nothing but horrendous computer problems at home so I’m at the library now typing my 02.06 poem…

0206

(kingdom.)

they kept the stones stacked properly
replaced any cracks with newer stronger ones
the moat was only dug deeper
and the ropes of the drawbridge
were always taught
unfrayed and prepared to open their door
to visitors

the prince and his sister, the princess
played together in their room
away from echoing yells down corridors
distorted and unfamiliar to innocent ears

the walls grew taller each day
the halls were repainted
and the flowers well-mended
the windows overlooked the mountains
massive and unflinching
but they crumbled each day
small bits of rock rolling into river

the king dressed regally
his gold polished his robes as neat
as the careful steps he took
through the palace alone
the queen was gorgeous
she grew older as do we all
but she grew better
her dresses flowed beautifully
she carried herself with the stature
of some great bird

and the king and the queen danced
in the ballroom alone
to the sound of the gramaphone
red curtains and waltzes
they danced til they were done

and when they were done
they looked at each other
dead in the eyes
and said i love you
and it was the last time they ever would

the castle was up-kept as well as it could be
no detail went un-missed
no imperfection went uncorrected
but sometimes decay just happens
from the inside out

nothing could save the kingdom
the empire of their love had simply vanished
a silent foreign enemy come in the night
stole the love they harvested like gold straw
the castle was hollow now
and the king and the queen
just the pages of a fairy tale

they closed the book
looked up from the pages
and had to find where they were
without the love
they thought they were promised forever

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2013

READ 02.07, DAY 7 OF THE 28 DAY 02.2013 PROJECT

02.2013 is a thirty day project chronicling my february of 2013 through poetry. to read the entries from the beginning CLICK HERE

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1994 SEATTLE LOVE SONG

seattle

minor chords amongst the dust
i’m the only one who comes to your show
the ground is littered
with empty bottles of cough syrup
i stand among the wreckage
and i watch you destroy yourself
i can’t look away
from the mirror you hold to me

i can’t escape the morphine sea storm in your eyes
envy’s eyes are as green as yours
envy’s eyes are as green as yours
you’ve got me wrapped up in your small pox blanket

you’re a newspaper fire burning in a rusty trash can
a shopping cart in hashbury at night
you’re not as glorious as i’ve made you out to be

i’m a gas fire and you’re the water
i’m a gas fire and you’re the water

i’ll burn like big giant factories
i will give you a sunset
the color of chemicals

minor chords amongst the dust

you left your phone in the car
along with our 1994 seattle love song
our song of retribution in a wasteland
we are just getting lost in different drugs

what happens when glass slippers slide
on black ice

we are the sound
of an i.v.
drip

i swear you smell
like kurt cobain

you taste like
sonic youth

someone popped
every single one
of the balloons
at our birthday party

someone left the car on in the garage

envy’s eyes are as green as yours
i can’t escape your morphine sea storm

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2013

READ “TOO FAR DEEP”

LOVE AND ITS FAMOUS IMITATIONS

somewhere out in the world
there is a couple on a park bench
tongues rammed down each other’s throats
and they pause to breathe
and she is feeding him chocolate
and he is feeding her bullshit
and they are eating it box after box
watching a ravenous ball of flame
crash repetitively defiantly into the horizon
and they are holding hands
like mangled scissors in a drawer
like tangled wires behind the t.v.
they are holding hands terrified
they might lose the other
but more accurately
they are terrified of being alone
within themselves instead of without

but no
they will share a bed
and he will cook her breakfast
and she will pretend to be asleep
and they will dress up for easter
they will kiss for the photograph
they will make love for the anniversary
they will become one giant couples costume
and they will die in the same grave
every night
never alone, always lonely
scared and humbled by the suburban dream
the flipping of channels in the den
and the children out back with the dogs
as under the same roof they live separate lives
conjoined twins in parasitic symbiotic cacophonous unison
and each morning the ring wants to fall down the drain
the pictures want to break
the flowers in the yard want to die
and they make love like puzzle pieces
they are two halves of a half
two holes of a whole
they are drowning in the ocean
of sincere misplaced trust
and the opulent reflection
of someone else’s sunshine
on their shallow lake
their handshake
contractual agreement
their non-violent shotgun wedding
two lives
wasted
feeding off the other’s
oxygen

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2012

READ “THE CYCLONE AT LAKESIDE”