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Three Poems by Juliette Sebock

Updated: May 8, 2019

Blue Sky Eyes


We walk across the bridge,

your hand tucked in mine,

and all we see is the sky.


The sky and the birds--

How you love the birds!

They snag part of an ice cream cone

from passersby.


There's a look of wonder in your eyes,

the most perfect aquamarine eyes,

sparkling, watching the birds

and the tourists passing by.


We stop by the trees so you can see

without the rumbling.

The birds fly off to tea

but all we see, you and I,

is that eternal sky.




Iconoclasm


Whiskey and coke

Or rum?

L.

G.

Me.

You.


A drawbridge covers the Avon, swimming,

Blurry, amid the theatre and marijuana.


You reach for Mars.


The stars were enough until you found they were just

Glow-in-the-dark,

Refusing to let you grow up when their

Skirts got shorter.

After all, who needs a grown-up room?


It's too bad you got struck in supernova.

It sucked you up into a black hole of flowers,

Callope's crown stolen,

Lilith running free.





Metamorphosis


You'd think that for all the time that I've spent

wrapped in a blanket burrito


Guac still costs extra here


I'd want to build a cocoon, take my cue

from that Hilary Duff album that defined my childhood


It's lost its case, but its still on the shelf, alphabetised,

beside Santa Claus Lane


Because I'd always looked up to her,

even fought with a childhood friend about playing the title role in make-believe


Lizzie was blonde, just like me


But a cartoon showed a close-up of a butterfly

and suddenly I didn't want to fly


I can't be the only one afraid of Tom Kenny's Butterfree


Maybe I could catch my breath, dream,

spread my wings, fly


Or die, leave it all behind


Maybe it's not so bad to be a caterpillar

the rest of my life


I hope Lizzie would still be proud of me.




Juliette Sebock is the author of Mistakes Were Made and has poems forthcoming or appearing in a wide variety of publications. She is the founding editor of Nightingale & Sparrow and runs a lifestyle blog, For the Sake of Good Taste.  When she isn't writing (and sometimes when she is), she can be found with a cup of coffee and her cat, Fitz.  Juliette can be reached on her website or across social media


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