top of page
Search
  • Writer's pictureNeon Mariposa Magazine

Two Poems by Lauren Suchenski

All you can measure


Two black holes;

I am, i am

spiraling towards an infinite pool -

of matter, or how it matters, or the mingling of

Time + space


they say {now}

that they’ll collide, form one

massive

turnstyle of gravity

pulling in light like a circus tent


they say the waves

will tilt through the atmosphere, sift like

gaseous wishes willing themselves through every

bit of borrowed meaning / will tumble and twist

and contort every shape, / will pull through my body

(moving a particle of two)


And the tiniest pieces of my heart

will register

the way it moved through

you, and the tiniest core of my brain

will pulse

one particle at a time

towards spiraling

towards that silent collision

into one


they say everything will matter, everything

leaves traces, everything pulses, everything

sends out meaning;; gravitational waves

or the sound of the world chirping back

or the sound of the sun singing light

into day

or the sound of our threads pulling

pulling;


towards;

towards

And finally


(the waves will be all you can measure)




I never wanted to know


I never wanted to know

what missing you would feel like;


But now, (without a doubt),

the cement bounces back

every little memory;

Certainly, the trees’ barks are covered

in your laughter

and the buried breaths we drew like shapes

are fossilized in air


the damp ache in my blood /

the old restlessness in my ligaments /

the endless parade of old cliches that

drag themselves to my doorstep /


I patchwork-fantasy my brain back

together - I cobble old smells of tea and burnt

popcorn into my sensory repertoire


I hold these little sieves of

sense memory in my hands -

Something to hold on to;;

The taste of saturday afternoons

on your couch ;;

or the sound of our teeth being

brushed together in unison at 2am


I hold these little whispers of a life

I bundle them;; kindling --

Something to light a fire with //

I watch it glow;;

ember ash turns fireflies of us all



Lauren Suchenski has a difficult relationship with punctuation and currently lives in Yardley, PA. She has been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize as well as twice for The Best of the Net and her chapbook “Full of Ears and Eyes Am I” is available from Finishing Line Press. You can find more of her writing on Instagram @lauren_suchenski or on Twitter @laurensuchenski. 

49 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

the cankerous grackles in the parking lots swarming in synchronicity like a biblical plague they don’t scare easy no matter how mean you make your face instead they congregate right in your path and t

across the room from me, my guitar pulses bright colors, throbs dreams I can’t ignore. I think about sleep but the music’s too loud. my guitar sprouts lilies not intended to twine, purrs of birds I’ll

Hope to Thaw If I were frozen in the ground, I’d hope to thaw. I’m left with muddy footprints and sticky fingers- I’m a thief. I stole what I needed to survive: a wet tongue, a Celtic cross against a

bottom of page