The Etymology of You by Nicole Barth [9/3/17]

Your roots are based in early morning 

muffled breathing under 

the melody of a rickety AC

and an ambiance of unfolded laundry. 

You're black coffee in 

maroon mugs with rounded lips; 

hair slicked back with tap water, 

and the way you toast my bread. 

You're the wrinkled shirt untucked

and the Nintendo left charging 

on my grandma's antique chair. 

You're poetry I can't finish 

and definitions soon to come. 

If I Were a Poet by Nicole Barth [5/9/17]

I've been taught it takes a lot of
Prowess to be a poet;
That finding beauty in metaphors
And explaining the color of his eyes
In a way that isn't akin to
Pools,
orbs
or
crystalline

Could  bring me accolades.

I've been inculcated with
Datum after datum
That poetry should evoke emotions
And physical responses with every line;

That there's no sense in writing
If your Public's heard it all before.

Well,
I've seen and heard plenty
And been taught even more.

But why wait for the perfect line,
The inimitable truth;
The glistening metaphor,
When the core of it,
The very vibration with which you speak
Ignites the crowd?

Speak the truth;
Write your reality

And continue the creation. 

Into the Deep by Nicole Barth [5/9/17]

And if my words could travel through the
Ocean, down the fathoms,
Would they find you
In the sum of  your profundity?
Would the echoes of last night
Wander through depths to meet you?

Would you join me,
Whispering like the seaweed
On the ocean floor?