Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
To write quiet into a poem
to write silence
and convey meaning

that
that

that
would be true skill

beauty

To write silence
without a word
convey every word
bring tears
to a reader's eye
with nothing
but nothing.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby


The only joy is hope
and hope is only ever momentary
each expectant pregnancy
ending only in stillbirth sorrow
the falling off the mountain
the broken leg
halfway up the peak
but you crawl
and you crawl
and you try to forget
all the pointless hours
all the blood and sweat
spilled freely
always freely
in the hope of promises
that fall apart
like dust in the hand

but again, you hope
again, you pick yourself up
and you find some way to accept it
until all that remains is a whisper,
the words:
I may not have gotten what was promised
but at least I'm still alive to try again.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby


I, a leaf
from your book.
I, a sheaf
of inkspotted paper.
and I
I'm just one of your poems
now.

I saw your face
a reflection in a window
and I stopped to see
how you were
how you've fared
through all the years of silence.

but you're the same.

you've changed
only in one way:

you've forgotten me.

I remember what was
I remember
for both of us now.

and the shard in my soul has dulled
has softened enough
that I can see you
smiling with her
hear your kisses
romantic words
and not hurt
so deeply
inside.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby


Memories hanging silent
dust motes in my mind
bits of what was
what never will be
again

There is our first kiss,
that midnight press of lips
that led to so much
that undid so much
that took years off our lives
in the end.

There are all those nights
nights full of wine
so many
like grains of sand
blasting away our pain
with chardonnay.

There is our longest day
when I told you
I wished I hadn't married you
and another day
when I wanted to beg you to stay
one last time
but I didn't.

There is your car,
packed to the brim with boxes
and you
with tear-streaked eyes
saying goodbye
forever


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby


I remember you
I remember when I lost my mind
I remember you
standing at the top of the stairs
proud pillar of night
Backlit by flooding light
by the sunrise
I couldn't see coming
at the end
of the darkest night
of my bitter, broken life.

Your love
was like lights on the highway
Blinded
I never saw the shape
of who you were
of who you really were
until you hit me
until I was sprawled out
at your feet
broken and bruised
confused.

Now,
You want to talk
You want to revisit
All that we were
All that I wanted us to be

Now,
You say you've made a U-Turn
You say you'll never "flip a bitch"
again.

I let the line go dead
I let the ringer sing itself to sleep
I let the corpse of what we were
lay rotting in the streets
of a world that doesn't care
doesn't see
anything but the perfect love
you never gave to me.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
A picture of you painting
Hangs lingering in my mind
Careful strokes
Bold colors
The press
The slide
The hues transfused
Into waiting white
Your hands bringing life
Wherever they wander
Even when they wander
Over me.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
Try
to justify
cruel acts
hide behind
warm words
hide the ice
couch the cruelty
the blade
the blood
that still pools
still stains the steel.

The wound
still stirs
still connects
me
and you

always only
connects me
and you

always and only
through wounds.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
Wet wind
the world washed clean
every inch
rich
in earthy color
the static sprinkle
glimpsed through slits
the black blinds
that block out the day
in lines
in divisions
dark dividing joyful
dividing light
from life
florescent
from iridescent
the me of media
from the me that's free
that lives in the static spaces
dancing
always dancing
in the liminal rain.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
You were always my dragon
you were always my fire
I hate you
I love you
I need you
and yet I never want to see you
I never want to see you again
and yet I do
and yet I always do
and yet I'd throw open the door
if I saw your shadow in the porthole
I'd take your cruel hands in mine
I'd kiss your cold fingers
I'd kiss your lips
despite all the vicious things
you've said
I'd take you back in a heartbeat
regretting every minute of it
knowing viscerally
it's all a great mistake
knowing viscerally
that the love I feel is always one way
and this was only ever about sex for you
this was only ever about sex for you.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
Soft skin, black hair
they made you to be mine
they made you to be perfect
devil perfect
with a mind to make me bend
both knees
constantly
so that you could watch me
so that you could control me
observe me
ruin me.

They made you perfect
devil perfect
your phantom talons
still fester in my mind
my heart

My love felt real
your love was a program
and what I loved
was just illusion
a dance of farces
and chemistry
so you could collect me
make a parcel of me
and drop me
when the ones who made you
recalled you
reassigned you
and left an operator
answering your emails
tersely
shortly
when he has time

because there are others
so many others
scarred
by people like you
people made devil perfect
for people like me.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
discard the skin
cut free the me
and fly free
as was meant for me
with wings
cut of widening fire
that never tire
never flit, break or shiver
steel-strong and steady-ever
carving lines in supple sky
cutting clouds
cutting night
filling light
with all the hues of blues
of the pregnant day
that brings
all that is needed
all that is ever needed
for you
for me
we.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
I put my hands on your rough skin
I send, I give
I feel, I receive
we weave
we become
one
woven in one
woman
weavemen
spinning
spinning
spun.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
echoes of echoes
we see, we be
tall and reaching trees
with roots deep
in the peat
in the earth
drawing up the dead
devouring the ghosts
dispersed through the land
and turning it into light
turning it into life
and breathing life
in echoes and echoes
and echoes
on and on
into the night.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby


- -
Autumn eyes,
so hard to find
I'm so lost sometimes
without that kind
of intensity
so hard to find
a life to dance
upon the rainbow with
so hard to reach
for soft and solid
instead of sharply sweet
gold and smoke
and shadow

but if our paths never cross again
if we never dream between
the interims and twilight times
if I never live to see
never live
to match your beauty
again

maybe we'll meet
at least
on the skyward end
of bifrost bridge
maybe we'll meet
and share a hug
or a high-five
or a mug of mead
and maybe you'll smile to see me
see me
as I truly am
maybe I'll be free
of the sting, of the chains
of this, all this
maybe I'll be the me
beneath all this blackened stubble
beneath all the thickened skin
stitched tight with the scars
you gave to me.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby


- -
I want to turn my scars to poetry
I want to stitch together shards of pain
until they take on tragic life
I want to rip into the raw
I want to tear away all that isn't
until only the bones of our brutal beauty
are left to shine
wet and vivisected
but honest
so honest

I want to touch the wounds
we've all been left with
I want to bring hope to the hurting
in the same way that you do

I want to burn with a voice
as bright as the knife
you cut your words with

I want to face all that is inky
excise it
and be
unapologetically
honestly
me.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby


- -
In the spread of heavens
in the whispering night
I see your wings
I see your cloak of breath
I see you
bound in memories of sun
of heat and red
while all beneath you
sleeps inky
black and blue.

In dreams, I've found you
I've taken your hand
I've flown with you

In sleep,
I've held you,
I've spent ages
faithfully unfolding the ringlets
of your banner black hair

In life, I've touched you
So many times I've touched you
but it's never been you
never really been you
only been illusions, shadows of you

The coffin sealing my wings
is scratched and waxy
nearing its autumn days.

I'm taking chains
to haul, to bind
I'm closing my eyes

I'm kissing away
Everything you were to me

I'm starving
for the want of you.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
How sweet the sunrise
when I kiss her
when I caress the soft light
that plays golden
through her hair
when I whisper her name
and the taste of it
is sweet and smooth
and flows

I remember when your name
was that easy to say.

I remember
and I marvel
at the way
the sweet has turned to sour
the softness turned to rocks
rocks and glass.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
Cold night, feeble light
from grandfather's lamp
legacy to be lost
and I
dreaming again
of you

I miss my body
when it was with your body

I miss my mind
when it was wrapped tight
in your coils
the coals
of a love red-hot and radiating

I miss a time
when lamps of mine
were never lit
yet the rooms were so bright
and only because you were smiling
and only because we were making love
and smiling
as one.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
I cannot cull the tide
the rise of Pine and Yule and Christ
the wash of wet weather
in red sweater December
and the sea of gifts
That shining, glittering breaks
and scatters glass, trash
rotten, sodden and sad
at the edge of abyss
as it has
so many times in the jagged past

for once, I pray;
for once, a joyous flight
for once, a warm surrender
no more broken nights riding
over the shards of shattered lives
no more cold descents to liminial light
to promises unfulfilled by futures foggy-white
when comes the cliff where presents part
where fever breaks and night descends
to softly snuff the last glass bauble
to deftly choke our final false cheer
in a heavy cloak of crisping ice
to die another temporary death
when wet December ends.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.

Contributor: Lyla Sommersby

- -
Like the quiet nights
cool nights
half-lit by street lights
we'd find the little silent spaces
between the blinding days
the little liminal seas
of cool and pleasant gray
when cardigan hands and so-soft lips
would meet momentary in the mildtime
the melding endless after sunset
the magic after magic hour
that seemed more dreamlike
than any dream.

You and I
always a memory recalled in passing
A pleasant, silent maybe
that could have been
that always felt like it could have been
maybe more
maybe so much more
than just those quiet, dreamlike nights.


- - -
I am a student in Miami, Florida. Painting is my other love. My first book, Sketches of Someone, is available through Thunderune Publishing.