A poem. 4 u.

A Mountain and A Dweller

Five winters ago,

a girl stood on a mountain,

lonely and pulled

by the wind, by the world

by the molding and melting churn of heat far beneath

what else lay below the surface of snow and rock she could not tell

but stayed silent, breathing sharp air

Mocking trees and rocking birds came too close

The world turned cold, and the light in the world grew dreary,

and the girl knew she wasn’t going to find her golden light,

not here.

The gods finished their malevolent verse

hot tears fell on frosted cheeks.

The girl remembered.

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DEAD THINGS: part three

3.

One of the beauties of winter is the complete disintegration of green—the leaves shrivel off and lay dead on the cold ground until a soft layer of snow buries them. The trees are then left bare—bones exposed. Their branches leak out like mummified veins as if they were arms searching for their lost greens. Funny thing is—the dead leaves just add another layer to rich Earth that its won roots will soon feed upon. I’d like to think I was a tree.

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤

DEAD THINGS: part two

2.

Whenever You come across the carcass of some unfortunate road-crossing creature that failed to make it to the other side it’s always a little sadder than you’d expect. Something about seeing a fuzz of remnants of an innocent creature bludgeoned into concrete feels entirely sick. And every metallic car only passes by, with only a backward hint of guilt, forgetting the loss of life as soon as it moves from eyesight. Sometimes I imagine my body in a mangled mess just off the freeway.

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤

DEAD THINGS: part one

THE FINAL installment of my mini-series of prose poetry. Sad. But I’m going out with a bang–this week’s theme is DEAD THINGS! Enjoy my sweetly sadistic poems. Ur Welcum.

1.

Sometimes, when walking through waking woods, one stumbles across a rotting log. It’s broken and blackened in places, and covered in the littering of the forest floor in others as the Earth is slowly pulling it under. Funny thing is, a host of living survive off the corpse. Maggots and other vulture-insects feed and thrive upon the back of the dead. I see both sides.

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤

SPACE: part three

3.

In a supernova, The Super-Big and All-Powerful Red Supergiant (big, bright and not hot) is consumed by a White dwarf (small, dim, dense and super hot) when they get too close in orbit around an invisible center of gravity. Explosion follows. Gravity always seems to pull two objects in opposition together. And it always leaves a fiery mess. 

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤

SPACE: part two

2.

Have you ever thought about the relative impending doom that the entire galaxy faces? I mean, said doom is thousands of millions of years away, but at this moment, there is a Supermassive Black Hole at the center of the Milky Way slowly pulling in dust and gas into darkness. Virtually nothing can escape them, even lightness. Sometimes, black holes the size of the one at the center of our galaxy are caused by a cluster of stars all falling together. And I told my mother when I left church that there was no such thing as the devil. Turns out I was wrong. Hell sits in the middle of the galaxy, patiently waiting for gravity to do its job and pull us all under. I wish it would hurry up. The world has seen enough lightness to last. Time has come to succumb to darkness.

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤

SPACE: part one

The Second mini-series is here–and the theme is SPACE!!! GET HYPED. Stay tuned for more poems later this week about stars, black holes and supernovas.

1.

Every night I think to myself: will it be death or dawn? And Every night I let the stars decide. The Greeks thought their Gods lived in the stars. Most civilizations have looked upwards for answers. They pointed out constellations and figures in the skies that point to some higher power watching over them. They were flickers of something better and bigger than this world. But, now we look to them and see what is really there—empty space. Sometimes spheres of fire and gas. But mostly black nothingness. Strangely, the realization that nothing is out there and that the holy heavens are empty is comforting.

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤

NOSTALGIA: part three

3.

There was a boy named Willie who I went to preschool with. He’d make me eat ants and I’d chase him around the playground trying to kiss him. In kindergarten, we got married on the tire swing. In elementary school, the boys built a fort by the river and the girls built one on the hillside. The boys would always come and steal our rocks, but Willie would always give me some back. Our mothers would joke that we were destined to actually get married someday. He moved two states over in the 5th grade. I haven’t seen him since. I wonder if he still makes girls eat ants.

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤

NOSTALGIA: part two

2.

When I was around seven, my dad decided to re-landscape my front yard. He dumped piles of clay and dirt in sequent mounds just by the swing set. I was convinced if I launched myself off the swings and ran across the mounds I’d be transported to another dimension. Never happened, but sometimes, if I ran fast enough and swung high enough, I’d forget the immediate reality I was in. I wish I could still swing without getting motion sickness. Maybe I just needed a little more velocity. Traveling between dimensions is hard.

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤

A Poetic Series: NOSTALGIA pt.1

I’ve always been a writer rather than a poet at heart–and I recently joyfully discovered prose poetry. (Maggie Nelson’s Bluets is a fantastic example–a definite must-read!) I’ve decided to partake in a miniseries running three weeks with three “thought poems” in the form of little paragraphs a week. Each week will have a new theme and new poems!

This week is NOSTALGIA- everything and anything that makes you miss the good old days. THIS IS PART ONE. Parts two and three will come later this week!

  1. When I was in middle school, I wrote a fairy tale about an ordinary girl who saved the day. Typical. My best friend told me it was stupid and that I should learn to grow up. Years later, I wished I didn’t have to as I wrote yet another fantastical story about magical worlds. Funny how the more you grow up the more you crave childhood, and when we are young all we want to be is old. Sometimes I wonder if Disney movies are actually targeted towards bitter adults instead of unknowing kids.

xoxo Tessa Rose ❤