Levi J. Mericle is a poet/spoken-word artist and lyricist from Tucumcari, N.M. Currently he is associated with the New Mexico State Poetry Society and gives readings from his work. His work has appeared in multiple anthologies and his work can also be seen in multiple lit magazines and journals such as, Black Heart Magazine, The Mused, 101 Words, Eunoia Review, Awakenings Review, Penhead Press, Zaira Journal etc. Levi spends his days daydreaming about poetry and writes, at least a little bit every single day no matter what.
(Previously published in Mused)
were always too drunk to hold up her body.
Her palms were a flight risk
jumping in surrender whenever she felt captured,
Her elbows were never pointing to shadows that didn’t exist
but just to the ones no one claims.
Her shoulder blades sharper than the tongues of serpents
easily colder than any iceberg you could imagine,
slabbed in the middle of her back like the titanic awaiting to plummet.
I always hoped and believed she’d acquire normalcy.
But to her being normal was too underrated for her understanding.
She believed she was a nobody’s nobody.
Just a slab of flesh living in an earthly meat counter,
awaiting to be consumed inside the belly of time.
I hated to know her,
Because knowing her meant I cared way too much.
Knowing she was just a child gone wrong
and living in the skin,
of pure oblivion.
That’s what I hated the most.
Life set you going with a pocket full of dreams
Yet your lining grew, filled with nightmares
And you fell to the element of death
The morning sang to you a lullaby
But then skipped the stepping stones of earth
And let you fold into the stream of wasted wishes
I found why life gave up on you
God jealous of your poetry
The devil envying your smile
I don’t know where your nightmares grow now
Or if you have any more at all
Maybe you’re plucking tulips
Inside gardens where winter never visits
Or maybe you’re sitting in the darkness
Lapping up a mirage of happiness
You now Ms. Lady Lazarus
You have walked the paths of life
And felt sorrow amongst the world
Yet your path is paved and growing golden with
Still on earth
Please don’t forget why you existed
Because earth will always remember your smile
You’ve set the path we walk on
You are a goddess in your time
A heroine amongst the dead
You are the melody
And a pocket full of dreams
Your legacy will never be plucked
You are the tulips
You are Lady Lazarus
You are Sylvia Plath
You fat and slothlike America
Clothed in Jewels and your Stepford Wives
You sit in camouflaged happiness
With thousands, your millions
“Buy Me a pony, a condo”
“Give the poor a photo of what life is like,
You slanderous sluts of gossip
Folded cackle for life’s little gnomes of poverty
Fits of “give me more, you tired, you POOR”
You call yourself a god or goddess of wealth
But you have no dignity
Past what your wallet can provide
You pretend yourself a god
Because the one and only God will not claim you
So sit in your caged habitat of wealth and pride
And forget that a life exists beyond your Prada-skinned world
Face the truth
You fatYou slothlike America