Poetry Blog by Alexandra Parapadakis

Searching for you

You’re the word

On the tip of my tongue

- tip - tip – tick – tock

You’re the face on my clock

Yes!

You’re the catch in my breath

Like if I was to cough

Words of you

Would just tumble out

Like if I was to shout

Words of you

Would just rumble out

You’re built into my skull

You’re the clutch over my brain

You’re running through my veins

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What is the scale of reality?

We all have our own truths

Our own views

How do you quantify actuality?

“A fantasy is a vision

It is solely in your vision

It is envisioned by you

A vision is a fantasy”

But saints had visions!

Politicians have visions!

Some people have double vision

Anyone that has sight has vision

Whether they have a sixth sense

Or no...

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My mouth took some months to bloom

My words took some weeks to flower

You and I do not speak different languages

We possess different meanings

“What is the curl of your tongue?

What is the grind of your teeth?

What is the bow in your brows?

What do you mean?”

Your bottom line is neat and fine

Your ballpoint pen bullet-proof

Underlined

My point is a r...

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Her skin can open up like a mouth

It can speak

When it parts

It can extend like a tongue

It can taste

Your arteries are seams

Try to unpeel them

Slip off your flesh

Undress

Search your pores

For secret trap doors

Let the inside out

Part it like a mouth

Like hers

It can speak

Unfold the red carpets

Of rolled and folded tongue

Let it searc...

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I’m a cycle

I’m a circle

I’m a forever

I’m always

Casting shadows on myself

Packing silver on the shelves

Plus! Plus! Plus! Plus!

I’m infinity

Maths was never my forte

You cannot minus or divide me

I’m a forever

I’m always

Smiling when the moon comes

Smelling for when Monday runs

I was reborn, refreshed

I can be ironed and pressed

Good as new

I’m ...

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If I am your world

with my head lying on your chest,

then is the b-beat b-beating tectonic plates?

Is your heart safely caged?

Can I lift my head or will you break?

You are the love between my legs.

You are my love, between my legs.

Are you the birthmark on my flesh?

It beats: s-stay s-stay...

Is your heart safely caged?

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I am keeping a secret with myself

for myself,

clutching it within like a bird’s claw,

the carrier pigeons have been shot,

guess I forgot to warn the men with rifles,

suppose it wasn’t a clay pigeon after all.

My mouth is a gold crested envelope,

my lips are licked with wax:

they are an inked kiss,

the pout is the stamp,

my mind is the scroll:

bound and bound,

re...

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Minds mould cannot always bend to the will - Look!

A blur of surreal reality:

it’s vivid, a memory, a means 

but travel through years 

and maybe it’s a dream,

or the worst fear:

(for the youth with infantile stretch marks to hear)

Forgotten.

For the youths with flat ironed flesh and barely dogmarked ears,

what we all fear

 is to forget.

Tell the boy with the newly ...

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Do you remember how we used to savour the pins and needles on our tongues?

Do you remember how we used to bite into bitterness?

lick the spit of life

I was turned on by brokenness

maybe it’s cliche

that I craved pain

swallowing broken bottles

it's lined my pockets

it's swollen my stomach

Do you remember when we saw ‘sad’ as just another crayon

to colour ourselves in w...

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I think I hung myself in your tears

Yeah, the other day I realised

One noose, one tear drop - same shape.

I choked on the salt of it

eternally thirsty now

When they fell from your eyes

they looked like showers of broken glass

How I wished I could have swallowed that instead

I think that would hurt less

I’ve got 6 bruises, 7 cuts, 3 scars

I’m still counting.

But why...

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I can’t tell you.

But last night, you entered my chest

for play, some kind of game, like ‘Operation’

and then I couldn’t sleep

I jolted – shivered – jerked – quirked,

now my eyes don’t close

and my body is a pulse,

you tiptoed across my ribcage,

leaving foot prints enlaced by landmines,

you slept on my lungs,

short wired my arteries,

you clipped the circuits of my ...

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My hands are patterned by ambitions,

these lines on my skin are wishes,

palms marked like the sky after a shooting star

and shining when they interlace with your fingers,

your skin's wrinkles and crinkles.

The crevices of our skin do not match or meet

the way coloured paths on a map synchronise and intercross,

reaching destinations.

We are separate pieces of meat

but

...

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In the creases of a crumpled T-shirt,
the darkening orbit of an orange pasta stain,
the unhinged playfulness of bright and living eyes…
the golden curls like mazes of cornfields – no way out –
The type you just want to twist around your finger –
I noticed you.
In the unrestrained laughter,
I would recall each word that tumbled from your lips
And hang on them, swing from them,
like branche...

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Your skin like the yellow brick road,

and what is it that creates that rush of blush?

I’d love to shovel out your flesh or drill through your cheeks

to reach those autumn leaves,

that grow behind the golden weeds,

the red leaves that were never green.

No, never new, they never grew,

they stayed and they remained:

Dying, but never dead,

thriving, behind your face of ...

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We were like ‘yin and yang’,

‘Spick and Span’

- Hot pot, big pan -

slick and tanned!

The could we can -

sweet, sweet like marzipan!

The kind of love that makes you FAT,

that attracts the sniff sniffing rats.

- Rap! Trap! Rat! The blind bats! -

But I walked and you ran,

I was kicked like tin-can

then you thought you were tin-man,

cause you forgot your heart ...

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Eyes and lips
which
blossom from your carved face,
sugar skull, sherbert fizz.
To Mr, from Mz,
we really wanted to fuck this.
Turned my brain insane,
my tongue inside
out.

Caught in fog,
in haze, like cloudy lemonade;
a gaze, let's misbehave.
Infatuated,
I won't make it.
Too intense:
this forever pretence,
can't do more pretend.
Beg.

Take a hot hit,
bit by bit,
I got...

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Have you seen her eyes?

Like searching grass stains

Reaching, reaching up the bark

Of her rough touch, rough hands.

Legs like hay, the hairs like needles,

Could lose thoughts in them, do you understand?

Oh, have you seen her eyes?!

Like dancing lily pads,

I once tried to catch them in the lake.

Silly mistake, oh big mistake

Because she can be a swamp,

Her pull like...

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Call me the doormat,

The infestation of rats,

The ‘oh she ain’t all that’,

Call the kettle black!

Call me the diva, the princess, the moan bag,

The emotional one, oh isn’t it sad?

The hot head who can only nag nag nag,

That period trainwreck – a handful for a lad.

Call me whatever deflects most from what reflects

When you stand by the mirror and boast,

When ...

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At first love was a pump, a needle,

Eyes wide when your high

...Or see someone you like.

Stifled, we always rivalled

Till no more, the beat became sore

And we spiralled, overdosed,

Hot headed, cold blooded.

Passion became blown out,

The anticlimax of a candle...

Like the heroin ran through her heart,

Like the cocaine contorted her chest,

Like the salvia had shaken ...

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Her lips were red apples,

“Don’t trust lust!”

They called her a hag

Told me she had driven me mad!

“Kiss me” she said

And then I dropped dead

Because I realised my story was wrong,

Erased the ending they taught belonged

And then all I had to do was admit!

Write into the story and say:

actually everyone I am g-

“She’s sick, she’s just sick!”

“She needs a doc...

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Suffocating under the rhythm of your heart beat

Like drowning beneath a sea of thumping marbles.

You are the ball pit, the sand pit, without end – falling!

But who can ever stand when they are - head – over – heels – for someone –

Yes!

And you pulled me in like a rip tide, a whirl wind, a sinking pool,

Wrapped me up like pig in blanket with your tangled hair

And the salt of it...

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I’m pretty sure there were tulips in her eyes,

I shouted “Fire! Fire!”,

She took off her sunglasses,

She saw sunrise.

Now I know it, there was a darling rose in her blush,

A honey dew in her stare

But they told me “beware, beware!”

“Have you not been warned of ‘primrose way’?”

Now I felt it, there were dandelions on her lips…

Make a wish, make a wish!

Daisy ...

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No way honey!

That answer forever

Cause I can see your heart beating -

Beating out of your chest

When I undress,

Beating out of your chest when I am there.

No way honey,

Never never!

Cause you’re fresh out the holy water,

Fresh out Mary the mother.

Can’t corrupt the white light, the earths hope, world’s might!

Can’t let you give in, lose course, all in the name of ...

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Baby, oh cry "red red" baby!

Red stare, double dare me, baby.

You look angry maybe,

that frown like a red cloak across your gaze

with your silver tongue

words like shining bullets

cutting me down with your mad arms.

What mad, bad arms you have!

What a mad, bad glare you have!

All the better to come swinging at me

with those meaty limbs like axes.

Oh, please baby I'...

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There is a war rallied between our hearts:

some people say love,

other people play love.

But when life becomes a game,

when words can only be spoken by characters,

when breath can only be projected by theatre

then I lose myself...so you lose me....and I risk losing you....

And the curtains fall shut -

Shows over.

And the dice stops rolling -

We lost the bet.

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You pick up the trees and you wave them like fans

But her face continues to sweat.

You unravel the ground and you drain it of soil

But her stomach never rounds,

Her mouth remains open.

You bottle up the ocean till all water is extinct

Yet she continues to faint of thirst.

You take life from the earth,

You remove breath from the world

And she continues to perform still bi...

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I think that I was born on the moon.

But it was never ‘written in the stars’,

No,

I think that when I landed here on earth,

My voice was left behind

Because you can’t hear me.

When I talk,

You can’t hear me,

You look up to God for answers...

And you kiss me like your investigating the saliva for my heritage,

You go inside me like your searching for my identity,

Bec...

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Lips: like cliché cartoon roses.

Yes, red.

But open up my mouth,

Those lilies will  -   snap.   -   You.  -   Up.

Thorn in your side.

I think we used to fly with the bats,

The doves always ended up on our dinner table,

I told you it was chicken.

You choked me with Amen,

You squeezed me with your hand for grace,

For grace, from grace I fell

Down from the heaven...

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I think I’m addicted to acting the way,

Behaving the way,

I feel:

Shit.

No, I never meant to-

I-

No, I never intended to-

I-

didn’t set out to break your heart

I think that it came naturally to me...

Snapping those heart strings it’s what

I-

It’s what I’ve always done best.

Affection is a weapon they say,

Charm is a murderer they say,

The blood you lose...

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When you lit that cigarette

The bones of me shuddered,

The blood in me halted.

What I wouldn’t do for you to light my flame with your lips....

Because I’ve had men tell me that my lipstick tastes of petrol,

That my mouth lights fires,

That my tongue causes explosions

And of course, that opening my legs is the best way to put a fire out.

But this fire begins at you...

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Can you see the track marks up her arms?
I spy
With my wide eye
The stranger upon her neck.

Like the birthmark of a bloodhound,
Like a grisly flesh pinch,
An angrily sealed wound,
A Chinese burn,

A beating burning bruise,

A bloody blush:
The bite of the hungry.

Teeth she counted like cash,
The molars which paid her fine
And got her Alice's very own wonder

-ful escape...

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I’m gonna be so pretty for you,

She says

As one layer falls off and tumbles to the ground -

Hugging your feet

Like a lash of waves.

I’m gonna be so pretty for you,

Let me be pretty for you,

I will be the prettiest I’ve ever been,

She says

As one layer of flesh peels off, along with her clothes.

One layer of soft lips melts from her features -

Layers and layers till...

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I got a taste for blood last night.

It wasn’t yours,

It wasn’t his,

It wasn’t hers,

No.

I got a taste for blood last night and it was my own.

Sometimes I consider draining myself dry,

Sucking myself into sand

Come, watch me crumble.

I got a taste for the blood which runs

From my lips.

But nobody ever described self destruction like this,

I never considered I mig...

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Someone's sowed pins and needles into her lips.

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Peppercorn eyes or was it peppermint eyes, does it matter?

Something...orginal eyes! Something blazing eyes...something dreamy and crapper.

Yes, so he tasted of morning breath and the blandness of saliva

but just write that he tasted of strawberries and hope because that sounds a lot nicer!

...Wait... stop! The ryhme is off!

Can you have more ryhme this time, less variation.

Sort...

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There is me...lying.
Not lying like you say.
Lying on the floor, lying like I say.
Begging, weeping, asking.
You carnival figure, you.
You war hero, you.
You champion, you.
One leg propped upon my stomach.
Where are your gold stamps, your badges, your medals?
The trophy you stand on is all battered.
You have laid me out on the floor, the doormat
Withholding the welcome sign.
You roll m...

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Inspired by Nirvana's song 'heart-shaped box'. The line "I want to eat your cancer" was so strong and powerful, really got me thinking

I want to eat your cancer,

Sip your darkness, your evils,

Drink from your chalice of disease,

Soak up your pain, bathe in it, wash in it...

So that you are dry.

And when you are too dry;

Powdery, breaking, crumbling,

Ill offer you a dri...

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There’s a floor called race and a home called blood,

it can be what forms you.

It can be what clothes you, what warms you as it flows through your body,

a rich honey providing brotherhood, relation, family and love -

bonds of pride which cartwheel through your body.

I have a mystery and in my father lies the clues.

I had droplets of speciality, uniqueness, distinction, excitement...

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The nature, the ‘should’ is all intact.
But you must look further, seek the abstract,
The magpies watching with their pitiless black eyes,
Who will steal your jewelled secrets and spy.
Who will sit on your shoulder, whispering sin till you rely.
So little magpie, you must die.

Little shadows which dissipate, hiding in the trees,
Get you crawling, searching on your knees
Till the sticks...

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Inside her closet are the remains of a broken umbrella with the materials in cinders.

Her skin cloak is draped over a spindley coat stand,

most people name it a spine,

most people's are strong,

straight.

They carry the puppet as if a master holding strings...

But sometimes autum's trees fall down

without reason

because nature is flawed.

Sometimes a stem ca...

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(‘Ask me why and I’ll spit in your eye’ - The Smiths)

Pinch the rogue flesh slipping from my jeans,
Dig each thumb and forefinger into my hand,
Scratch me with that caress and turn when I blush,
Let the fire wash over my face whilst pretending not to realise.

Leave me be even though our legs are intertwined,
Please leave me be even though our mouths talk and share,
Leave me be even thou...

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(I've been struggling to show anyone this poem for a long time but I've been inspired to let it free. These feelings are behind me now and it turns out writing was to thank for that afterall)

How does someone stop cutting?
Do they cut into the paper instead?
Replace flesh and blood with diaries and ink,
Replace physicality with mentality,
Replace actions with words,

It isn’t enough.

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(I'm aware this is a controversial poem and I hope not to offend anyone but I make no conclusions, I only ask questions)

The nature was deteriorating.
The sky was falling down,
raining pieces of ashy soot,
crashing and burning
and you weren't there.
Why weren't you there?
The birds squawked and screeched
and in-between their cries were mine, calling
and I was reaching out to you.
I ask...

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We talk.

A lot about her,

yet I know nothing about her.

She shapes words

but I hear emptiness

and all that exists her mouth is air.

She gives me carbon dioxide

but little care,

little advice or help,

little information.

Just ambiguous comments,

large words meaning nothing

and letters sounding silence.

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