Wednesday 20 April 2016

5 Poems by Christy Anna Jones

We Are Doves 

The day I met you
sang their songs of
1,000 fluttering wings
Their songs drew
the hummingbirds
who added their
purrs and whirs
which always brings the sparrows
and the robins
bobbing along
The day I met you--
flutters, purrs and whirs,
and tweets and bobs--
a symphony in my heart


If I stare long enough will I finally see someone else looking back?
Gazing inward I almost see the me you fell in love with
Staring at the lines on my forehead jagged roadmaps connecting point ‘a’ to point ‘b’ all directions of my life
Sorrow like candle wax hardened in my eyes
If I look in the mirror while walking backward will I see you coming back to me?
I keep stealing glances I am not narcissistic I am merely looking for you
Time and time again all I see is me missing you
The basic truth reflected: I am all I see, I am alone with myself
I smash the mirror and pieces shatter, scatter at my feet, each shard reflects your absence
I stand at the window beneath this lonely sky. When are you coming home?

How Is That My Fault? 

I can rewrite the ending any way I choose. Then ball up the page throw it away. A new ending this time. Maybe this time you won't leave. I can rewrite you anyway I choose. Still you always leave. This white page remains blank. 

Tell me, how is that my fault? 

My distant star your mind is twenty years away dancing with a girl with the sun in her hair and a thousand volcanoes in her eyes. She burned all your future bridges when she glanced in your direction and then looked away. 

Tell me now, where was my fault? 


you’re drowning but I’m the one sinking
you push me under grabbing at my eyes climbing on my hair
your toes in my mouth stealing breath after breath
you were always scared of the water
I knew this
yet when you asked me to go for a midnight swim
to strip our clothes our skin our past our lies
I still said

I have no one to blame for thinking I could save you
I can’t even save myself 

I sink deeper and deeper
knowing that once I hit bottom
I am free
to shed these layers of wet skin and old lives
to push off the rocky seabed
to soar through the southern sky
with the wild geese making their way home 

Words, Unread 

These are my bones,
        picked by scavengers
        sucked dry by wolf-like hyenas
        with eyes full of lava 

And you,
        you like a vulture
        circling and screeching
        hungry for any morsel remaining 

In time my bones will vanish,
       crumbling dissolving
       swallowed by the earth around me
       as if I were never here 

My heart,
       in the song of the seagulls
       the last vibrato of echo
       will carry my ash to the shore 

One day they will find,
       scattered amongst the seaweed and starfish
       ghosts of my abandoned words
       you discarded so many years ago 

These are the words,
      you’ll never read.
      This is the heart
      you’ll never love. 


Christy Anna Jones loves Game of Thrones , Fritos, Amazon Prime, and the written word. Her work has appeared in various publications including Dali’s Lovechild , Emerge Literary Journal, and Melancholy Hyperbole . Christy lives in Texas, but Georgia will always be on her mind. Visit Christy at . 

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