in the same way i’ve always known

In the same way I’ve always known

This body needs a home

And me

A soul

Not full grown

Just

Too accident prone

These nights

The air is so dense

And astronomical

But these days

Are less than monumental

My dear human,

What is there left to say?

I’ll be waiting anyways

On the brink of yesterday

Still sifting and lilting

Through heartbeats

And foggy weeks

Watching it all leave

With a lack of sleep

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Fairy dust excerpt

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“Who? Me?” Elijah turned around suddenly.

“No not you you weirdo. Gabriel.”

“Aren’t they always?” Gabriel sighed. “About dream traveling?”

She nodded. “Your dad says you should practice taking us over now.”

“Okay I’m not tired now though.”

Elijah jumped up. “To Lepidoria?

“Sit down! We’re not going now!” Phillis yelled.

“I was just there. I have to be really tired for it to work,” Gabriel said.

“You know, if you wanna get tired, we could race.”

“You could not,” Phillis said.

“You can be our lookout. If you see someone coming, throw a rock at them.” Elijah laughed.

“No.”

“Okay then we should just go to Lepidoria. Like now. Lemme go get the dust.” Elijah leaped from the couch and scrambled down the hall and up the stairs. Phillis shook her head. “That boy.” Gabriel laughed out loud, causing Phillis to grin. “You two always crack me up,” he said.

“Yeah yeah. He’s a pain in the butt.”

Elijah pranced back into the room, holding a full jar of fairy dust. He struggled to get the lid off, making very dramatic sounds and movements as he twisted it with no success. Phillis grabbed it from him. She couldn’t open it either. “Gabriel?”

He took it, sliding the lid off with ease. “Show off,” Elijah grumbled. He grabbed the jar straight from Gabriel’s hands and then proceeded to dump it on him and his sister.

“Elijah!” Phillis screeched. “What is mom going to say? That’s a whole jar of fairy dust, you know what it takes to get one of those?”

There was glitter in Gabriel’s eyelashes, in his nostrils, giving the room a frosty iridescent sheen. Everything was swimming. He blinked and Phillis sneezed. It powdered her afro like sugar.

“It’s in my ears!’ She howled.

“Okay,” Elijah said calmly. “Now try and go to sleep.”

“What!” She yelled.

“Just listen. It’s magic right? So both of you close your eyes and then try to focus on dream traveling.”

“We don’t even have our wings right now,” Phillis whined.

A monarch and a Luna moth perched lazily on the frame of the tv. Elijah pointed to them.

“So put them on. And try to sleep. C’mon. You want to find Miss Wistfaun right? And Gabriel wants to learn to take us all over?”

Phillis and Gabriel nodded.

“So do it then.”

They summoned their moths and closed their eyes. Gabriel inhaled, breathing in a sprinkling of dust. He felt waves wash over him, tingling in his abdomen, and then…

He opened his eyes to see the Creskince cottage sitting before him.

Phillis + Gabriel + Excerpt

Kiera couldn’t pick her up that day so she took the bus home with him. It was crowded, so they stood shoulder to shoulder and clung to the metal bars to keep their balance. There seemed to be an almost electric sort of happiness running through her. They stood in a mass of grumpy people for thirty minutes and all she could do was grin and bump his shoulder and whisper something about all the fairies she would meet. He nodded now and again, letting his book bag hang loose over his right shoulder. She was chatty and upbeat, but his parents still overwhelmed his thoughts. His mother lost in another land, his father losing himself in his own home. He thought about his own mission, and the secrets that kept him from understanding who he was and where he came from.

“Gabriel?”

Phillis looked at him with her deep eyes. He was so into his thoughts that he didn’t notice until she tugged his sleeve and pulled the cord to request the next stop. She took his sleeve and pushed her way through the crowd towards the back door. They got off and walked down the sidewalk. She let go.

“You good?” she asked.

“Yeah I’m fine. Just thinking.”

They got bubble tea from a painted food truck and then spent the afternoon walking around the city in their uniforms. He was tired and jittery but her smile put him at ease. They walked back towards her house where they found Elijah sunbathing in the grass. It was sunny and shifting to an evening breed of sunlight, but the weather grew crisp and bit at their fingertips.

Phillis swung open the gate and dropped her bookbag next to her brotherś head. She leaned down to look at him.

¨What are you doing, weirdo?¨

He fluttered his eyes lazily. The sparse tendrils of the willow tree danced around him idly. He grinned a crooked grin.

¨Waiting for you losers. Are we going to Lepidoria or what?¨ He sat up, brushing the dead grass off his kneecaps.

a farewell to all i’ve known and never seen

I’d rather be with you

Than stay at home

Rotting in my saturday clothes

I’d rather be more you

Less me

Then we’d all grow up more pleasantly

But forget about who we’ve been

And who I’ll never be

Because somewhere in this wintry world

I have colors not yet seen

I still dream in the third degree

 

So remember me

Not for bursts of melancholy

Or scraps of fantasy

Rotten daydreams

Lush whimsy

The hope of being clean

Not for perceived naivety  

Read my poetry

 

These words ebb in my chest

And spurt forth into mess

 

I’m drifting

Wistful introspection

Before and now

And who I’m hoping to become

 

My heart has moved light years since third grade

So why does it stay in the same place?

I still want the same things

I’m still longing for his wings

 

This sweet sampling of spring pacifies me

How different I feel

To fall asleep to psalms underneath my pillow

Sun warming my window

This season of detachment is ending

As my place here is descending

My heart preparing itself

For impending change

 

Three months and it’s over

It’s over

It’s over

I wish I could have been better

Said more

 

I’d rather be with you

Than stay at home

Rotting in my saturday clothes

I’d rather be more you

Less me

Then we’d all grow up more pleasantly

But forget about who we’ve been

And who I’ll never be

Because somewhere in this wintry world

I have colors not yet seen

 

There is no anger left in this human

No bite

No fight

No girlish blight

I’m here and I’m alright

 

Where the sunlight stops

In the morning glaze

And i dream of freckled shoulder blades

One day I’ll publish a tragedy

Or in some eyes

A masterpiece

Dreams

And inner beings

Unspoken things

Drifting sunbeams

This, now

The first ray of spring

 

I paint watercolor sunflowers

And clair de lune

Drifting off

In this cluttered room

Dreaming of june

Oh dear

I leave, very soon

For now

I’ll forget the future

And roam

In this sweet tune

Golden Shovel warmup

Golden shovel poem

(It takes a line from a published poem and uses one word at the end of each line)

Line taken from Sylvia Plath’s Elm 


A potted plant keeps watch and I

Watch it spill over the windowsill as I am

Wreathed with cattails and terrified

By pond scum and the shadow of this

Misty pond mirrored in the dark

Holding the stars and another thing

The bones of a sleeping queen that

Sits in turquoise film she endlessly sleeps

I jolt my bones i wade in myth in

Her legacy, a legend too cryptic for me

 

Gabriel Wistfaun and excerpt from Mothling

 

He sat on his bed in the dark, staring at the street and the rooftops outside his window. It was quiet and nostalgic. He had been there many times before, crossed legged on his bed in the dead of night. When he was very young he would leave his bedroom to crawl into bed with his parents. Those were the sacred days, the golden age of things that would never again come to be. Where he would huddle in close between the two, his mother lifting him up under the covers beside her. Those nights he watched the ceiling and imagined the water stains were little animals who all lived together on the same planet. When the city sounds drifted in from the outside world and in through the window, his father held his hand at the first tremble of fear.

Beau was younger then. Still baby faced. Softer than he was now, in both cheek and heart. Sometimes Gabriel would sit by the sink and watch him shave in the morning. He let him play with the shaving cream as long as he didn’t make much of a mess. Kalare would come in with her Rapunzel worthy bedhead and green nightgown to kiss them both on the cheek. She’d get shaving cream on her nose and she’d laugh like wind chimes and harp chords. Beau would make a face, but then he’d smile when she wasn’t looking. Gabriel would gaze into his parent’s bathroom mirror, the one that took up the entire wall behind the sink. He was so fascinated by his own reflection and the two contradictions that brought it into being.

He was always at his mother’s hip, tugging on her skirt until she scooped him up to carry him around the house. He’d knot his arms around her neck and refuse to touch the ground. Beau would be the one to pry him from her arms and drag him off to preschool. There were unhappy moments like this, but the sweet nostalgia clouded his ability to remember them as anything but beautiful. He yearned for them now, for youth, warmth, and a time where his father did not so fiercely guard his heart.

He laid back on his pillow to stare at the ceiling.

Beau took him to a planetarium once. He was seven or eight, and he remembered the rare sparkle reflected in his father’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the sugary stars projected around them, or rather something deeper glimmering inside of him.

Afterwards they went to the giftshop and Beau bought him a pack of glow in the dark stars to stick on his ceiling. They still sat above him, but the paint wore off long ago and no longer shone.