Author: Georgia Tell

Poem #62

~ Georgia Tell ~ 1 Comment

little cities persist in glass terrariums
claiming a closed system
but that is false
the input is the sun
the output is entropy
they cannot exist entirely alone
but they do not think
of those outside
who toil to make the sun

Poem #61

~ Georgia Tell ~ 1 Comment

I am trouble
In a crop top
I should not stop
Bring me thought pop

It’s riding in cars
At midnight and more
Drinking our cokes
And making our jokes

We’re bad
We’re evil
We kick doors
We trick floors
We make chaos wherever we go
We’re bad

It’s standing
On the ceiling
Laughing about nothing
And teasing gravity

It’s throwing plates
At the kitchen wall
Screaming at each other
And making art with the pieces

We’re bad
We’re evil
We kick doors
We trick floors
We make chaos wherever we go
We’re bad

We are trouble
With a few props
We should not stop
In our crop tops

It’s walking outside
In the dark, dark cold
Caring about nothing
And feeling every little thing

We’re bad

Poem #60

~ Georgia Tell ~ 1 Comment

find those gray arches
pass underneath
and become magic
transform into you
crunch orange leaves
in your hands
feel powerful
lift off the ground
letting your shoes
scrape the ground
lean on laundry wires
and knock everything down
drink a foggy potion
it sparkles in your throat
electrifying your body
vigor for people
saying yes to different
jump the fence
scream at the cold
turn it to laughter
finish by falling asleep
on a lumpy couch
that’s not yours
but maybe it could be
for another adventure

Poem #58

~ Georgia Tell ~ 1 Comment

I composed a poem
in that delicate place
between awake and sleep
it was short and simple
but I can’t remember it
instead I’ll be meta
and regret I didn’t wake
but I needed to sleep
you should sleep too
unless you already did
unless you still want to
this will continue more
because I can’t remember
I’m still clinging to the hope
that it’ll pop into my brain
I feel the urge to tip-toe
but everyone is awake
and I’d look foolish
I guess that’s not new
I often wonder about that
how I look to you all
how I seem to you all
I worry about it too much
and mostly I pretend I don’t
but, damn, still not popping
I guess I’ll just finish here

Poem #57

~ Georgia Tell ~ 1 Comment

pink lights above my eyes
it’s magic in a finite space
I look out the window
actual stars in outer space
it’s magic in infinite space
galactic jellyfish float around
pixelated asteroid hurdles
seeming gentle while deadly
it’s the same space
2 dimensional people
5 dimensional emotions
fly in a spaceship
and become a pink star