eft hand right brain wrong thoughts on good days I put my right hand on your left shoulder boulder stone just falling apart away bath-bomb disintegration wet and achy immolation prayers in left and right, tight ventricular spaces that everything will just be okay when nothing dreams with nothing's absence nothing we wanted seems it's taking something wanting. ... Something we wanted, something I can't give to you, it's not ever been nor will be my place, I'd spite my face and hands to see it through, if it meant something, but it will give nothing to you, I would swallow this world of lights to see you rest in the shadow of my peace, a slice of deep heaven, fractions of bliss, a piece, I'd hope to be something for you, even when I feel I'm nothing to me.

"Something and Nothing" by @post-himbo.bsky.social

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I'm not "big man" I'm not ya "boy" I'm not my first and middle names Though you gave them You'd say 'honourifically' I know they don't belong to me, That person they reference has long since been MIA, Fought gender wars and done got KIA, Your daughter at home has long since waited, She's longed She's anticipated, Her soul is no more emaciated than yours is now, Because death has taken yours, Where life has saved her, In the dying of a boy, Ya "boy", "Big man" Who had that first and middle name.

"First and Middle Name" by @post-himbo.bsky.social

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Seeing a thousand days in the night of space, that infinite platonic 'cave of shadows' place, the songbird Sol rests light on my face, that bosomly warmth with the subtle taste of spring; grassy, heady, passed in a sweat, summer's colours grace sugarfingers yet, so we have what good gold autumn's let, when winter swallows what it's met. and the chains that bind, you'll find they're of a daisy braid, soft silk stocks and locks that'll never fade, time tied minds, Wrist ties of triple plied plaid, the best, most damning decision I've ever made. In a place where Bastion Black acres overhead, like a high-rise high-lit high-top, its illegible carpentry almost dead and its end will see it overtaken, there's no place for primordial aliens in a world in which history's already gone. it's easy enough to worry about ever being enough of her, I'm sorry I was never what I said, maybe unspoken hopes aren't expected, and I can't make myself be everything yet.

"Disordered" by Post-himbo

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Ice wind very cherry lush burning that midnight oil, 12:03am on Friday morning, March 15th, in your beautiful house, so haunted by misery but which glows with new eye shine, I find in every second I watch the screen light illuminate your tortoise eyes and your wry little smile, a part of me I'd buried before memory, that rose from a cradle grave of ash, rises like fire up the creepers of a tree, with elegant fragility, I have cemented those moments to my soul in the chambers of the queen in the missives from her lover, I only feel that tracheal ache at 12:29 of warm sorrow bitter sweetnesses, because I came to life that day you kissed me.

"Buried Before Memory / Tortoise Eyes" by Post-himbo

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As the day turns to night I see your storm is near, so I'll hold you tight ‘til your wind hits my ear. Baby just let it rain ‘til the dam groans and creaks, ‘til it can't hold the pain and it rolls down your cheeks. As the dark grows less strong worried words turn to quakes, that it might not be long ‘til the sun reawakes. Though we may surrender this whole night to sorrow, it's okay, remember we’ll always have tomorrow.

"A Storm in the Dark" by Nova

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Hear me, fisher kingdom children, Something's troubling our waters, Daughters drifting out of space and I'm just running out of time, Though it seemingly feels infinite, Infinitely shallow, infinitely short, Infinitely hollow, whilst my body holds, I'm here just doing Planck's downstairs, Working points to no apparent end, I'm not gonna pretend I have much left, Nothing remains of me to bleed, This screed is just coagulation, The subtle serifs calcified, Burning, ashen, petrified, A shard of glass, lost to the tide, Smoothed where once it's blade resided, My fisher kingdom's fate decided.

"Infinite" by Post-himbo

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I put myself into bottles, and then walk these cobbled streets, that snake and slither through my past, dead eyed and cold blooded, and when stone makes way for sand, I cast them into the sea of time, hoping for the motion to find them, for the ocean to take them far away to a place where they won't be found, to a less forsaken beach than mine, but they always wash up at my feet, the ground beneath them turned to ash. Smashed and remade as a crown of broken glass, invisible to all but me, the strain is only mine to see, and as it carves into my face I mask all of my pain. So I'll bury my grief beneath a smile, while my sorrow peeks from behind my teeth, while my misery lurks under a pile of leaves, freshly fallen from a bonsai tree.

"Broken Glass" by Nova

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That pulsing, ebbing, throbbing, edging, Rushing blood, my body's letting Loose, those breaking waves are getting Real, I still can fucking feel them, Creeping, no release can steal them, Heel their rising, or threat release, Fret bowstrings, songs won't silently cease Their malleable tonality, God that shoegaze painwhore fuck mentality Never goes away, The tantric breat totality, Soft indie hospitality, I'm welcomed in every circle Never led astray, Like a glove to your hand, If the shoe fits beat me to death with it And I'll never say I could regret it, Take that hand and stop my breath with it, Give me a reason to never forget it.

"Shoegaze and Waves" by Post-himbo

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In a flat choice between your pride and my life Too many would choose your beaming Over me breathing (And I sometimes feel you'd say the same) And I wanna gnaw and needle to the question What would give you such a suggestion of blame? There's no words left that will bring me shame (From you), And there's nothing left for you to do, I've already done irreversible 'damage' As if the pain of false birth was something to manage like a schedule, "First month breast tissue next month hope" I'm like a new entity, I've gathered my own amenities, Just pretend to be pleased, Please, It would be that much better than your enmity, Uni, college degree, A levels through GCSE, No amount was enough for me to be (Whatever the fuck you wanted from me And here I thought it was to be "happy"), Because only my truth could account for me And only my body could set me free, I'd rather die than be who I used to be.

"False Birth" by Post-himbo

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Today she made me a big pot of stew, so she could remind me of good times with you, with carrots, diced beef and sourdough bread, food made for relief and for hugging the dead.

"Beef Stew" by Nova

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I'm sorry I didn't reach out and I'm sorry I never called, I'm sorry if I made you doubt that I cared about you at all, you’re more than just the silhouette that my memories now contain, that day cemented my regret and it welds me to my pain. The day on which I lost you, a day that I’ll remember, like your hearty stove top stew and building me my Fender, you were fighting to get air, soon to be lost to the drift, I spoke so you knew I was there, then you gave me one last gift. Owed no words and yet you gave three through walls of mucoused scars, and you gave them to tell me just how proud of me you are, and despite how much it hurt you to talk to me on the phone, I heard you say “I love you” before your final voyage home. I don’t know if we’ll meet again, I can’t see behind the veil, but I know I’ll surely know when it’s my own time to set sail, until the boat comes for me too I’ll keep your face in my mind, and I’ll always wish to hear you call me your sunshine one more time.

"To My Father" by Nova

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I'd like to think they'd recatch their tongues in the absence of my company, But probably not, What does it matter but for a nattered word bandied and battered by the wind? A smattering of infinitesimal things, echoed back memories, hollowed and thinned, that no less re-sound in empty rooms, Re-bound every limb-like grasping syllable to the dead boy that seems nigh unkillable, I don't know what holds them back from saying it, Embraced the shambling corpse once I went about slaying it, But I'm retreading old ground. I'd like to think someone was there To catch their tongues In the absence of my company, But probably not.

"Re-probably" by Post-himbo

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I often wonder if it'll really change, or if things will remain all frozen still, a bubble of a certain time and place, both before and after things 'went wrong', I'm still the person 'I used to be' but somehow I've become corrupt, I've forfeit whoever they claimed to know, and yet somehow I 'look the same', despite, despite and despite still, they'll give me spite for what I did, as though I passed some final door, the final girl that's never more, I'm never gonna change or grow, except in their ressentiment, I feel the cold of a social chill, the grave I've blessed is so much warmer, the hole I've got myself into, the heart of a 6ft deep decision, the one that separates them from me, I didn't choose to die that day, September 5th of my 21st, I'm parched of feeling any one, and lost in between every thing, I made myself what I wanted, so why aren't you happy?

"The Day I Died" by Post-himbo

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Dip your toes in to the pools of your mind, relax, give in the water’s fine, sink into that place where consciousness sleeps, where egos soon die and the universe speaks. Embody nobody, abandon yourself, in here you’re not you and you’re not someone else, submerge in the void encompass it all, there’s nothing to fight so just let yourself fall.

"The Descent" by Nova

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Thus spoke the word of euphoria, and how the sky came to cradle her vision, oh empty vessel, such static indecision, The wind hums through her heart's incisions And gives unto her cellular divisions, She's growing, Supple joins below the skin she's showing tread blood and it's contents betwixt her, She wasn't born, nothing could have fixed her Yet, here she is, here's our darling, our baby, Cornered? Perhaps. Stymied? Maybe, But her place in the big blue, Deep hued refractory place Has yet to fully shine it's light on her face.

"Spoken Words" by Post-himbo

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I'm not the first to walk this street, I notice as I start to tread Past empty homes of scarred concrete. As rain and asphalt come to meet I think, as water turns to red; I'm not the first to walk this street. It moves so slowly past my feet, A gentle stream of molten led Past empty homes of scarred concrete. My mouth can taste the sickly sweet mementos of fond words once said, I'm not the first to walk this street. Here I find naught but naught to greet, More of the same lies up ahead Past empty homes of scarred concrete. This travelled path starts to repeat, The past becomes the now instead, I'm not the first to walk this street Past empty homes of scarred concrete.

"Path of Scarred Concrete"

by Nova

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In death you're mourned by all who found peace in your smile, know we now struggle to keep you lonely.

"Remembrance" by Nova

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Still things are moving on an incline plane that's so far gone Ok, still things may yet go away, Still, things are good, Doing things I never thought I could, Not waiting, And still these things don't need stating, Since I moved still things with grace The movements of such things in space Lays still upon my body and face, Still things are moving, Change be surprising sometimes, Things still do be like that, Though don't do me like that, I'm still all of these things, Despite all of these things still, Still things are moving on-

"Still things are Moving" by Post-himbo

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I am the black hole at the centre of us, dragging you into me. Stealing your light as I feast on your time, as I tear you apart.

"Black Hole" by Nova

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Saturated, oversubstantiated with rich primordia, and sinking India, Sallow snail throat swallowing and the clangorous, sonorous Cacophonous wandering music, Cooing and piping and hollering, Collaring my supple thinking, Octuple drinking and smoking won't still it, Instil it with thoughts and you'll never fulfil it, That sadistic little haunting-beast it follows me, I can't be rid of it, It hollows me, and I cannot bare it, There's no words with which I could truly share it, So I'm glad you won't take it with you, I would wish this on no one, Least of all you.

"Haunting Beast" by Post-himbo

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Still I try to hold you, still you slowly go astray, still I worry I'll forget you and the things you used to say. Still I wish to see you, still you always hide away, still I really want to hear you just this once, please just today.

"Still" by Nova

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At any and all moments she finds me, No sunken spaces bind me beyond her buoyancy, The sun-diamond bubble bliss of her blue soaking warmth, day-defeating kisses, She consumes me, Readily disarms me, I feel at once in time and without ending or moment within her, Given love in its full weight I'm broken, and beautiful in her palms of grace. And it'll all be because of you, It always was, that biting smile made of levity and your honey-sticky, plentiful soul that seems at all moments to fill me and make me light with mirth and wit, I have never known words to give you your due, Your presence is beyond being, it's beyond real, I've held your face and near wept for the fear of dreaming. You are my fallible goddess, Within my world and the sands in my dreams

"Something from my Lover" by Post-himbo

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Watching as I change from the inside on the outside, into a strident freak with softened cheeks and widened hips, as softened lips scream to exist, like light in the bleak pushing back the creep of my own unmaking, a joyous playful breaking, and I will give praise for those blackened days, because I found my way and I became.

"Becoming" by Nova

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Everything and nothing, once, at once, All eggshell explosions, each a dime a dozen, In the facile 'real' and the currency of themes, Crawling on the mind as I attempt to stretch, To break into the materials, read up buttercup, 'Cause Dorothy is gonna die die, We're all gonna come to it, go through it, We can only tear at the fabric of everything, It's everything and nothing all at once, Sudden, and suddenly... Through colourless spectrums, primordial solip-slippery, Black hole wizardry, such nothing is everything, over, all at once, Ozone corrosion, ripping cloudflesh, Cry me a river to swallow Pangaea, In the parabellum psychostorm, I wanna cut through the water bodies, The winding streets that claim to bind them, And reach everything, Before the nothing reaches me.

"Dorothy" by Post-himbo

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I found you dressed in violence, with a bloodied middle name, an effervescent vibrance painted scarlet just the same, among the fog of silence that you used to hide your shame, repurposed as a licence, righteous wallowing in pain.

"Wallow" by Nova

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Hello PoetrySky, we'll be slowly moving over to here from the bad place! You'll find new poems interspersed with older ones for a while as we move over our archive.

He sounds so good in the stories; Sturdy and raw, beastly and warm, Love like a bear took human form, (We all wanted the bear, really). He needn't be extreme in stature; That one hones one's self is enough, But we're all different, this is just for me, he'd land sour on the sweet-tooth tongue, And my tastes run more savoury, (The quinine truth is such a waste, really). He wouldn't want for much with me; That caring and carrying is my concern, Protection and provision is his priority, But it needn't be so cut and dry, I'll stand and fight readily as any, Few benefit from rigidity, (That he is so blind is a shame, really). He sounded so good in the stories; Chivalrous and proud, Dominant and competitive, Assertive and controlling, Spiteful and vicious, (It makes me wonder what we'd done, Really).

"He / The Bear" by Post-himbo

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