The Second Arrow
Up and down the wave
We hold the age of sails
Compass star and stern align
Water carries us
Where the air will steer
The wait is light
The weight is light
Move young Shilly-Shally ship
Behind this wall of fog
Friendly fire or
Honor the current
So batten down the hatches
Seaworthy
The wait is light
The weight is light
Ocean curls with moonlight
Pull and push
"Arrows fallin' from the sun"
Floor growing up to save us from their spite
Sirens scales and maps have tipped for us
Confession heavy chests float like butterflies
We were flightless and under fire for this war
We navigate through the eye
We reach the shore
The wait is light
The weight is light
Labels: alarming truthness, artform, confession, graphic journal, poetry, Primessa
posted by Primessa Espiritu
June 06, 2023
Christopher's Guns
Anonymous
Known for your own
In the city
Steaming with noise
Of the hearts and clubs
Inconsequentials
Shadows of our dreams
Falling stars
As scheduled
Into corners
Christopher
Christopher
Remote eyes
Get there fast
Enchanted blood
Spirit gold cast
Shell to revive
Dove to your crow
All you talk about
Shadows of your dreams
In smoke your heart stirs
Thorn loyalty
As veils fall
Courage my dear
Christopher
Christopher
Remote eyes
Got here fast
Played seven smiles
For every hand
You need to win
You make pennies
With wishes lost
Shadows of my spells
Through my dance of chance
Struck a small storm
A fancy rain
Into your soul
Christopher
Christopher
Remote eyes
What's your bliss
You've been reading Wilde
To the kids collecting
What we threw up
Numbers and hedges
Pull the trigger
When we ride high
When we go rogue
Of all the checks
Of all stages
Christopher
Christopher
Petal eyes
Know your place
Labels: appearance, experiment, Homework, inspiration, poetry, Primessa, spoken word
posted by Primessa Espiritu
November 14, 2022
Muddy Moon
posted by Primessa Espiritu
January 29, 2021
Both ends
Charlie
I remember him
as vivid as the color of an orange
Every time the waters run close
ideas fall dangerously loud
Signals take form in static
between one and won
It's not a word
It is to be
A feathery fist
Dress me up in echoes
Only true rings I can bear
Only blues rare to move
Only dream bestow I dare
Leaping from soul to soul
Scattering roofs and shores
Of your collected shells
Doubt leaks on your wound
Leave it open and see it full
A blurry word on your plume
The cross or the crown
Pull to let me know
Which mistake you choose
Every time the waters run close
ideas fall dangerously loud
Labels: amwriting, artform, Dear Charlie, gofish, poetry
posted by Primessa Espiritu
March 19, 2020
Noise matters
posted by Primessa Espiritu
February 17, 2020
Poétesse ?
posted by Primessa Espiritu
November 30, 2019
ICONIC METAL
This is where we balance
On this heavy thread
Our days, under pressure
Our nights, encrypted hands
This is what we choose
This is what we hold
Diamonds dipped in gold
We are riding reckless
With no blink wasted
Quick sand, are we sinking
Quick sand, are we rising
This is what we take
This is what we hold
Diamonds dipped in gold
We wear no crown of thorns
Our thoughts form one line
Our hearts, straight into fire
Our charms, petrified luck
This is what we carry
This is what we hold
Previously published in
From Montreal, A La Spezia
Chapbook, 2018
Labels: artform, book, material, poetry, writing
posted by Primessa Espiritu
October 02, 2018
III fold
You are the sound of my soul
A search out of a death ocean
All signs submerged in doubt
Your truth, not imitation
Hope, a breath of urgency
Labels: artform, poetry
posted by Primessa Espiritu
August 21, 2018
Simple Truths
Childhood demands simple truths, we all should be so lucky to reach them.
Empty eyes crossed and rolled over our honest bones, without speech.
These views, thrown my way, of malice or not, are complicated.
Here is a book of all the looks I have collected through this parade: Download PDF
Labels: book, poetry, tmaol, writing
posted by Primessa Espiritu
May 25, 2016
Miniature Reading
Hello hello,
This is your tiny poet speaking to you from the bottom of your mason jar. This mission is almost over. A few days to go and I will be hanging my hammock between two bamboo shoots, near the big window. Apologies to all who have been following the trail to a video archive instead of proper blog publications. There is no better way, I suppose, to hint at personal currents than a good old screen bean.
Soon enough, I'll be growing into my shoes again and will have some tasty news to share. For now, all I can offer is a picture of printed word papers stapled together.
Labels: artform, book, material, montreal, poetry, words, writing
posted by Primessa Espiritu
March 27, 2014
Page 66
I SEE A CIRCLE IN A SQUARE
OR SUSAN, IT SEEMS YOU LIED TO ME
Here appears another heart
With another name
With a different meaning
For the same thing.
This is my tragic romantic poetry.
[
Buy ]
Labels: artform, book, From Obscure Light, poetry
posted by Primessa Espiritu
January 09, 2013
Hold
This piano is wireless. Free of power chords. Free of superficial sap.
This piano has one key, and one key only, repeated for every finger lost. One hit and retreat.
Broken voices built upon broken bones yet nobody knows, nobody knows this note.
Distant desires pulling that one string over and over and under this precious hammer of yours.
Broken voices built upon broken trust yet nobody knows, nobody knows this note.
This piano is full of white empty space, enough for names and questions to disappear.
This piano has one key, and one key only, repeated for every finger crushed. One hit and retreat.
Labels: artwork, Homework, poetry
posted by Primessa Espiritu
January 06, 2013
Show Au ♥
posted by Primessa Espiritu
January 20, 2010
L’amour est un animal obscène
posted by Primessa Espiritu
August 25, 2008
Listening to
posted by Primessa Espiritu
April 21, 2008
ouh-la-loum
"Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom, And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb, By the door of a legended tomb"
source: The Literary Connection
One of Jeff Buckley's most haunting performances isn't a song at all. It's a reading of Ulalume, a beautiful but deeply mysterious poem by 19th century American writer Edgar Allen Poe.
Jeff includes the disputed tenth and final verse, which is often omitted in standard texts of the work. It's unclear whether or not Poe intended this verse to be included in the final version of the poem.
"Of the many striking voices rounded up to sing and read the works of Edgar Allan Poe...none tears at the heart with the marvellous terror of the late Jeff Buckley" Rolling Stone 25 Dec 97
Labels: musical, passages, Poe, poetry
posted by Primessa Espiritu
September 08, 2006
Shopgirl
posted by Primessa Espiritu
July 18, 2006
