2 Poems by Dale Neuringer

3.

 

What I like is worlds ending

Synapses so dazzled that they

Weep

Each one of them screaming stop, never stop, stop

I no longer remember what it is without you inside me

And we are covered in each other

If you were to pull away would I

Collapse on myself, black hole,

Turn into nothing but a shivering mist

 

What I like is losing days to you

To my sheets dripping, your face dripping

I can’t sleep but we can’t stop

When I press back into you, don’t be confused

It is an invitation even when our bodies hurt

It is a demand even when I look my most holy

Paint me a crown of thorns because

I’d like the feeling of it

And call me goddess

Because each time you come back for more

I gain power

What makes others tired is what makes me strong

 

What I love is your snuffle on me

The after flop

The not knowing where your sweat begins and mine ends

In having your body as playground for my curious hands

I think about how God

Probably laid hands on clay to make us shaped how we are

And when it came to you

He covered every inch in blessings

And I’m going to kiss each of them out of you

Starting at the bottom

Ending with it does not end

 

 

4.

 

Woman

In city of Los Angeles

Is trying to be taller everyday there

Is fearsome at current altitude but could be

Warrior goddess

Could be woman, still

But reinforced with steel and sands of time

Woman

Is trying to be Jewish totem pole

Here, at her pelvis, the face of gluttony

More sex, more bodies, proffer all of them at her shrine, there will never be quite enough sacrifice

Over her stomach, here, the face of fear

Was all of the work worth it, did all of the work make her enough? The face grimaces harder because there will never be quite enough sacrifice, again.

Woman is still hungry.

The face over her chest is a mask wearing a mask, it is a grinning sun’s face wearing a sad clown’s drooping cheeks and things-did-not-work-out-for-me brows over its own, why hide? The sun grins eternal underneath, why not?

And here, the face over her face is a blank space you paint into when woman speaks the empty fill me up words you so crave

Woman looks into the mirror of the sky and sees her eyes glinting back like burning shards through a mask of

No more taking shit

No more giving too many shits

It just looks like her face does in the mornings

Woman has gone to the forest to write stories about herself that sound like myths and thus,

They will become them.

Here in the big woods she is not chasing down more height or another face to add to her towering totem pole

She is just trying to feel small.

Like when she was a sapling,

Woman was only trying to grow towards the sun and take enough energy from the dirt to make something of herself

She wasn’t cut yet

She wasn’t waiting to be carved into the faces of her future.

Dale Neuringer is a Los Angeles based poet. Her work often revolves around nature, having too many feelings, and having too many feelings about nature. 

You can find her on Twitter @DaleNeuringer

© 2018 by Azia Archer

  • Twitter Clean
  • Instagram - White Circle
  • Facebook - White Circle