poetry – icarus's inkwell

Cankerkiss

May 2, 2019 jamie forest huntLeave a comment

the scum of summer kill lies in the plot

as peat and rot do lie within the bog

as hidden finch that twitch when it is shot

or crow that has no end in autumn fog

the stranger’s soft strewn skin is curdled cream

with maggots trailing kisses on her neck

as she had done upon my midnight dreams

but now she’s left in pieces of a wreck

the scum of summer has no fruit to bear

so let my vultures pick and prey upon

her tired cheeks, while i run through her hair

and gaze back on the lips i sang along

yes, life and love far gone and wings deprived

but even dead she makes me feel alive

lemon bar

March 22, 2019March 22, 2019 jamie forest hunt3 Comments

my face

twists and writhes

like saltwater taffy.

there is nothing

as bitter as

your acidic splinters.

but your heart

pours the honey

of a broken hive.

and i think for a moment,

that you might be

as sweet as they say.

–

i can’t get the taste of you

out of my mouth.

i actually really like lemons. but most people don’t so i conformed for imagery-sake. i want you to draw your own conclusions, and your own meaning, but i wrote this because i’m confused. This poem is kind of an “Ode to Mixed Signals”… ima copyright that- i like that too much. people have been kinda hot and cold to me lately, and i needed a way to express the weird uncomfort i feel. the photo is of my girlfriend, Kaitlyn Guesner, four years ago when we met. she’s not the one being hot/cold to me haha she just has pretty golden hair which matches the aesthetic of the poem. hope you enjoyed. love.

Rotary

March 8, 2019March 8, 2019 jamie forest hunt2 Comments

i push my finger in

like a boy tests the water

with his foot

like a coward

i twirl the cord in my hand

like a girl twists her curls

into the contort and curves of a slide

like an angel

the phone must be full of crickets

the hum is light and warm:

icecream on Sunday nights

beach towels and chlorine

the wheel spins- it is

the loading of a gun

that only i wish would

squirt

i am connected to God.

Her voice is tired and kind

a Lion in the Sun

dazed and unbothered

i continue to wrap the rope

of an age long past

around my fourth finger-

and Hang

Up.

long time no see. i’ve been working on a painting for art, as shown above. it’s of the potamac. i took it while the trees were still autumn-dusted. the poem was fun to write, it kinda just happened. critiques are cool. do what you want. comment what you want. have a good night.

wash up

December 7, 2018December 8, 2018 jamie forest huntLeave a comment

i don’t recognize You anymore.
i haven’t since the fall.
i look in the mirror and see apathy
hanging like swaying fruit

golden hay draped Your face
and Your hugs were like if
a vestal campfire could
warm your soul.

petal-pink bloomed among Your skin
like the knockout roses did
in Your mother’s garden
soft and smooth and unharmed.

blue-jays nested in Your eyes.
azure lovebirds sprang and danced
and sung a tune that is now
long forgotten.

i haven’t been felling too hot lately, if you couldn’t tell. without the distraction of theatre, i am now subjected to my least favorite thing in the world [the human psyche]. and as i wake up every morning to get ready, i start recognizing myself less, and realize that i have let the weight of school and society tear me apart; leaving nothing but grey, blurred out fever-dreams of who i used to be, and what it meant to be happy. Before any of you start worrying for me, don’t. Writing this poem only inspired me more to finally overcome this feeling of “apathy”.