Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Flip the Script It had to look real. Bruise had to be shaped just so. Lampshade swayed like Newton's law. Equal but opposite. It was the only heavy object within reach. Timed carefully. The neighbors would hear. They would see his car in the driveway. The wound would be temporary, Band-Aid. This house; a prison, An expensive gilded cage. Photo by Priscilla Du Preez 🇨🇦 on Unsplash Culmination I'm trying to recall How it felt to have A country home in your arms The scent of…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Photo by Allec Gomes on Unsplash Mrs. Bumblebee Over cinnamon apple tea, technicolor pictures galore, she dreamed of her lover, and so much more. I was a starving artist, oil streaked carnations, arm's reach. I danced with peasants, and ate with kings. The rustle of the quail song, Pounding against the riverbed. The opera of the nightingale, to usher in a peaceful slumber. Tributes of the birds, the bees, of emptiness and the trees, and my lover's calls. I spoke layman's words but dreamt of a…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; stream in your browser while you read along. The Monster That Ate Time Unfriendly fountain An ugly monster dances whilst watching the time Photo by Masaaki Komori on Unsplash Hello World Hello, World is the first poem I ever wrote, circa 1997. hello world, what are you doing on my front step? guess it's my turn to shine in the spotlight i don't think i'm ready yet. i still have things to do here in my castle that you wouldn't understand. i'm perfectly fine on my own. and in the end, i'll die sad…

Guilliean reads three of her poems; read along with the poems while you’re listening! Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash random dis connect Have you ever found yourself talking but not understanding what you were saying? Like it was all on autopilot? like your skin is not your skin? Your lips were not yours? This is my life. Photo by Luigi Manga on Unsplash Dwelling on Eternity This is the last beginning. I will not move forward from here. Draw the line, straight and perfect, use the ink I bleed from my fingertips. Onto your skin, into your head, and…