Three Poems

Terrell Terry

Give Me Your Hours

 

 

We were storms inside.

 

I was picturing an ash-red winter

& no one could stop me.

 

I’m talking to you the way I should have before.

 

But you are not here,

So it doesn’t count.

 

He was sewing the hill

When I asked if the water was moving.

 

I could have destroyed myself.

 

Give hours & energy

& call a life erroneous,

 

Because people are waiting to use our bodies.

 

We are not dreamless objects—

We are other worlds.

 

I was at least a tattered flag leaning out

Of a fibrous nest.

 

Place water in time.

 

The sour taste of 1996— exposure made me run.

 

I’m selfish with my ears

When listening to music & walls of rain.

 

I’m selfish with my eyes

When watching turquoise lightning

Tied to a beam.

 

 

 

 

Objector

 

 

Copper morning

I move with the transparency of error

Look for me

 

I’m in the beat of the light

 

I cut my hand on another round of amends

Lulling rain is glue at midnight

Layers of trance confirmation

 

In water drowning

 

Paper reflection

Caulk splashed on petals

Fragile sounds

 

Music makes a shoulder

 

Scar map, my stare is a bridge

Venomous snake of vanity

A small town stroked by Sunday stars

 

Panic & peace

 

Narrow hallway of the past

Early morning creature

Obvious hungers implode

 

My never

 

 

 

Tiles

 

 

This music is to be played at night.

We trespass & build tents.

You have the idea—

 

Fruit deflates the dark. 

What type of cabin are you wearing?

Your aftershave whispers

 

From white wool, & sunflowers glow

In the hazel ocean.

I believe in leisure & necessary work,

 

Community & rebellion.

But who, what & how much will I do

For dollars?

 

In cafés of almighty affinity

I still fear my disappearance.

The bloody bears crave me—

 

They cross the bridge to my backyard.

Ask me questions.

I want to get curious about myself.

 

More colorful pillows & muggy memories:

The dogs bust through glass & gave chase.

I’ve wanted a taste of difficult music.

 

 

 

 About the Writer
Split Lip Magazine

Terrell Jamal Terry is the author of Aroma Truce, forthcoming from Black Lawrence Press in 2017. His poems have appeared (or will soon appear) in The Literary Review, Green Mountains Review, West Branch, The Journal, Guernica, Poetry Northwest, Bettering American Poetry 2015, The Volta, and elsewhere. He resides in Pittsburgh, PA.