My Child
Her face with two eyes
Reflecting the fire's
Groans and crackles
A nose made to sniff
Every last bit of chocolate
And peanut butter sweets
And her lips, my darling's
Favorite obsession;
Always singing, always laughing
When she's happy her eyes
Turn in wonder absorbing
Every last speck of sunshine
Her nose twitches and flares
Leading to a crescent smile
Her body elegantly curtsies
But when she's sad
When my dear child cries
And whines of heartache
Her eyes reddened
A stream of tears
Dragging her down
When she's sad I pull
At the edges of the universe
Shielding her from all
...
I Say
would i be able to type a paper
holding a lit cigarette?
oh how do you do it?
you lost your vision
and rummage through a pile of androids
hoping to find the closest physical proof
that you are a descendant of Adam and Eve
would the ashes chemically change
the plastic on my keyboard?
oh, how did I do it?
I lost track of time
and now I relive our moments in nightmares
my sole existence is proof
come on Mom I say, let's go sisters
would a burning laptop
set the fire alarm?
remnants of guilt
embedded deeply
no burning possession, no cigarette
will ever relieve or erase the past
around the corner lies no salvation for me
why were we allowed passage?
we lit each other on fire
and raged through nights
modern technology divided us
one waited and escaped to college
one will graduate from high school soon
the last one is autistic
...
Sopphey Vance
is a poet. She creates poetry with letters, words, sounds, and colors.
writing has appeared or is to appear in Cram Magazine, Every Night
Erotica, Filthy Secret Books, and in Felt Tips Anthology by Tiffany
Reisz. Poetically speaking, Sopphey released her first collection of
poetry Rose Colored Lenses; Jaded Prescription on August 2012. Find and
connect with Sopphey Vance on her blog (http://sopphey.onimpression.com), Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/poetsopphey), or Twitter (https://twitter.com/sopphey).
I especially connected to the second poem, "I Say," Sopphey. Excellent work, so engaging.
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