April 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.
By Tina Tully
Me And The Ground
By Kellie Toyama
I’m walking and walking and walking
and picking at the skin under my nails
to find a sliver of water and dirt and sun and sky
in this hellscape of my dreams
I miss the mountains
and their apple trees that bloom bright pink
shedding blankets of magenta in the summer
instead of cold white
I want to lie
atop the ground
arms outstretched
and whisper to the green
“dako, dako”
(carry me, hold me, pick me up)
because I can’t ask anyone else
The ground will always meet me where I am
Me and the ground have something…
I write for us
M.B.
By Brooke Hannel
I feel the ghost of your kiss on the palm of my hand
You were surprised how uncalloused I was
Oh, foolish boy
The callousness is below this measly flesh and bone
A heart covered in chains
Begging for an ounce of attention
No wonder when I heard the warning bells
I thought they were a pretty sound
Now those moments of sweetness
Have cracked with a spine of bitterness
Between kisses and laughter
Your words keep haunting me
A cliche broken record
Of how I must be lacking something
Do you not recall?
Questioning my sagacity
As if I was the one that only knew four chords
And had a penchant for distorted melodies
A pity your voice doesn’t sound
like the echos you overproduced
Is that why it was a necessity
To compare our written form?
Because you carried the ego of a king
But lacked the crown?
Must be why your absence lasted three days
An attempt to come back as my savior
You should know
I’ve never had an affinity for a complex
I hope you understand.