February Poetry Compilation
The Sunstroke Monthly Poetry Compilation is a collection of poetry submitted by Sunstroke readers and staff members. Take a seat, light a candle, grab a cup of tea, and dive into the intricate words of our community.
Artwork by Casey Beifuss
blanket fort on an iceberg
By m. wilder
we carry seeds in the crease of our palms
until we cannot hold them any longer. you held my wrist
and opened my fist, scraping
together a garden out of the dirt on the median.
all fall the seeds sink and twine through soil until
it all slips into the earth and blossoms
into the artichokes you cut from the sky
where i will suck the stem
in the silo of mild winter the clouds allowed
by wrapping around this street
until we are all we can see:
for four hours we crab walk across this brief unruined future.
right hand back on blue, t skips the twister spinner and we meet again on yellow.
you climbed the wall a moment and leapt back down towards laughter.
we’d clean the baseboards of a new apartment.
on sundays finish each other’s fast drawings.
in the night of it all, i am there, dizzily crawling
across the carpet towards the stove
where the pot coops warmth
where you could stand, shimmying your hips, and lifting
the artichoke to a candle light,
plucking my heartbeat like dove feathers
like armored leaves softening
our teeth scraping the choke
my beating heart buttered into silk, dripping
dopamine down the fleshy insides of my thighs
where loves feels like arriving home
after surviving an immortality
of dread threading through the mountains, tumbling
down the hill onto clark street
till taking root is finally an option.
Untitled
By Amy Pham
Tricky is the happiness stored in your skin
Underneath your sleeves
Harness what I gave you
And I’ll run through the forest fire
Chase you out to sea
Go through the ghosts of your demented, hardened, lost daydreams
I’ll rid of the terrors
That bound you to a place
Full of different versions
Of my haunted being
Lose your pathway
And I’ll circle back in time
To make it right again
Face my childhood tears
All of my distant memories
Put them to rest
Lose my way of feeding off of my rage
I’ll rid of the terrors
That bound you to a place
Full of different versions
Of my haunted being
I’ll rid of the terrors
That bound you to a place
Full of different versions
Of my haunted being
Long ago I lived for someone else
By J
Long ago I lived for someone else
To the King and Queen
My breath, my every move
Infused with the purpose shoved upon my being
Cuts by words, squashed by lectures
Emotion numbs with the echoes of memories
Then came her, a savior in armor
Dazzling as the stars, but blinding as the sun
Her touch warm and soothing, yet strings were constantly latching
Voice ever so beautiful muffling all other
Half my heart I presented, half a rock I received
Came a time left in a village, I should have stayed
I chased as she rode a horse away
My savior, my love, my world
How foolish was I
Then came loneliness
Then came peace
Finally I live
The Years Won’t Stop
the years go in circles and i’m finally starting to get it, to understand that exactly a year ago your face fit perfectly in the crook of my neck but today you’re not even thinking of me. that i can name every single song you played for me on the guitar but i cannot remember the colour of your bed sheets. blue or yellow i couldnt tell, because i could never keep my hands off you and you could never wait for me to finish a sentence because you talked over me and i never said a word and your voice was always louder than mine and i was stifled and suffocating but you were a star shining so bright and i was just there in the corner folding into myself until my body lost sight of what it stood for. the years are going by and i’m trying to stay afloat but there are stones tied to my ankles and i still think about last spring when the snow had melted and we could see the first flower bloom, how you said i was your daffodil and i laughed but then you put your hand on my thigh and i unravelled and your lips tasted like blood and oranges and leaves got tangled up in my hair and you left but i spent days trying to untangle my hair but it was so hard to do it alone. i’m growing tired of the years passing me by and it’s driving me insane that my clothes still smell of you – clove and sunlight with a hint of perspiration and no matter how many times I scrub myself raw in the shower, my body still has your name written all over it. the years will never stop and i will never think of you again because you will never think of me again and perhaps that’s okay because two negatives make a positive and maybe you minus me is the right equation, the adequate summation of our intertwined existences but how am i to know what’s right or wrong, i never have been good at math.
Find out how to submit to future Poetry Compilations here.