brusque teen

Tuesday, July 21, 2026

I Have it Under Good Authority That Your Heart is a River

brusque teen 9:27 PM No comments

A poem for my marvelous mother on her 70th birthday. She is as beautiful and timeless as ever.


Did you know your heart to be a river?

the evidence gathers at our feet.

Clear to see by all who nearby wander,

your kind of love cannot be beat.


It flows fast and freely, 

sweeping away all who stand near.

It carves gentle canyons,

values form standing against fear.


Your banks are draped with color,

but they could never leave a person blue.

Such beauty resides there,

every bee and flower, a testament it’s true.


Your love is the raging waters,

that beat against our shores.

It’s endless and plentiful,

it leaks from your every pore.


I thought you deserved a poem,

well here it is, it ain’t much, I can’t deny.

But I hope it brought you some joy,

if not, you’ll be glad this is goodbye.


Saturday, February 13, 2021

fallintoearth

brusque teen 4:45 PM No comments




feel it lifting,

like a pull to the north.

the shadow begging for a light,

only a fix.


i will make it there in time, 

we say.

it passes through,

the dull knife of meanwhile.


it would be worthwhile,

to let the splendid show of feat steep.

a full throttle,

geography past thru thine eye.




this time,


caught up as a riptide, 

                                                          at long last.

everywhere to bide,


plainly fallintoearth,


Friday, January 25, 2019

Happiness

brusque teen 2:11 PM No comments





Perhaps I'll find myself in a meadow, niched high up in a mountain range.
 Surrounded by varieties of pine, in which provide my senses security. 
I am wrapped in wool blankets.
Lifted temples, my eyes fall to the cackle of fire; a dagger amongst the surrounding dark. 
Captivation in the flames rhythmic beat.
The hum of figures emit laughter.
Far on one shoulder a river swims infinitely. If you happen stance a cross into the thicket of trees on the opposite side, you’d find a hammock city laced in the high branches that push into the sky.
 Behind, a few tents scattered.
The late hours hit, we retire toward them for refuge as the night air comes brisk. 

My eyes slide open in early hours of morning. 
Chest too full to fall back in rest. 
The sound of tent door zipping wide. 
Eyes wide. 
Shoes slipped half on with a walk to the edge of the meadow, I go limp and fall seat.
The stars surrounding slowly fade, taken in as a sign of morning sky. 
Soon I am joined by company, patiently waiting for the suns cast show. 
We venture in the woods in afternoon, pine needles crunch beneath heavy toes.
It goes on and on.

Time run honey.












Saturday, June 2, 2018

sour and salt.

brusque teen 5:27 PM 1 comment



today a sun beam placed gently on my eyelids woke me from a deep sleep.
the deepest kind of sleep.
the kind you find comfort in 
when the world has nothing but lemons to give. 

i believe my heart has begun to sour.
i suspect its rotten to the core.
the decomposed matter lays heavily in my rip cage.

because lately i cant seem to find my grip on something sweet.
ive been fooled by apples and pears.
they tempt me looking delicious as they do.
so i open myself.
letting my fingers slide over the smooth skin.
and it feels so lovely in this moment.
like perhaps this time i found something good.
so i raise my hand and bite down.
and i feel the slick lemony juice begin to slide down my throat, choking me.
ive been tricked once again.

ive become accustom to the salty taste of these tears.
all thats left is sour and salt.

maybe the issue is at my center.
maybe im no better than the worlds lemons.
maybe if i bit down on my arm i would find the answer.
maybe i would gag from the bitter flavor seeping from my own skin.
or maybe
just maybe id find something else.

because i feel like just underneath this skin there might be something exquisite. 
something i could count on.
something that could end my day dreaming about dreaming. 
something like lemonade...


if only it was that easy.


but one day i feel,
i wont wake from this deception
no matter the amount of sunlight thrown in my direction.

but ill keep trying.
ill slip my hands into my pockets when i walk through orchards.
ill avert my line of sight
and watch my feet fall one after the other.
and i suppose ill keep depending on dreams.
its whats kept me here so far.






Monday, November 13, 2017

disoriented

brusque teen 10:47 PM No comments

he is a young an old teenage boy who consistently loses his identity.
he studies his face and the mountains that rise from it.
every tavern and every vein.
yet he periodically finds himself looking in the mirror
questioning the reflection that falls on his retina.






Monday, October 23, 2017

love me less love me longer

brusque teen 9:06 PM No comments

their veins crawl across the skin like lightning

 their fingertips are matches,

 igniting a fire the moment they strike skin

 a fire that spreads through the body till it hits your skull and fills your toes.

 eyes like a gaping canvas.

 a heart thumping like a drum.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

im sorry

brusque teen 10:13 PM No comments

you're all disappointed in me.
i get it.
i would have been too.
i just can't change who i am
i just can't kick up these roots.
they're too deep.

 i took my mask off and you weren't pleased in the least bit by what you saw.
the moon didn't even smile at me last night.

 you all thought i was different.

you were wrong.



Subscribe to: Posts ( Atom )

About

amateur writer/artist. listening to music is my life. need song recommendations? let me know. i'll hook you up.

Newsletter

SADLY, there is no newsletter... not sure why there would be one in the first place. hope i didn't get any of your hopes up.

Follow Us

Instagram: ashbae714 ello: ashbae