Closure..Closure is hard,
When the last word,
Has not yet been said...
Set SailSet sail.
Catch the future in your hand
and push through
embrace the loves,
the ruins and seeds,
rise like the stars
and take the future in your hand.
You have the freedom,
you have the light,
you have the ocean
stretched as your canvas,
midasit's all relative, and that's the worst part:
we ruled the world like kings, sitting atop
privilege & opportunity like a tyrannical serfdom,
laughed at it like children, laughed so hard
our bellies hurt and we couldn't breathe,
kids too fucked in the head to understand
i came home to both parents, supper warm
on kitchen counter hot plates, a dry place
to sleep when the nights got too cold,
i know nothing of oppression, i try to understand
the miracle of strife like maybe humility is the lens
by which the sky is lightest,
it hurts sometimes (life), getting out of bed with
every new day, tired soul clanking around in
the cavern of your chest like the gears of a broken clock,
and it's really not fair to make a comparison between
the problems of living & the problems of living well,
my brothers, i see you awake with god at dusk,
empty stomach workdays, hear the whiplash of systematic
shackles on your tired bones,
you are strong, far more than i,
i cry for you brother, late
You are gritty fingernails and razor teeth. You
burn, you fucking
You machine gun cutthroat drop dead
sharp shock stun gun claws out knockout
Spilled drink sweat-slick struck dumb
purple-red bruise livid eyes on fire.
Hit and run.
Pale, taut neck, shadows from lamplight
pulse looping hot and fast under marble
I don't want you to win my heart, I want
you to rip it out, still beating;
make a notch in your bedpost and
preserve it in formaldehyde.
winter comes earlyi.
spring drifted by,
sunny clouds bathed
in warm breezes;
and i sang tunes,
to the man in the moon.
you heard me singing
(like a nymph, you laughed)
and like apollo you gave chase.
that night you held me
and we sat together, drowned
in silvery starlight.
i always knew apollo hadn't
loved daphne nearly enough;
no wonder she had ran.
who is she, that helen of troy,
seated on that throne of honor,
glittering in the harvest moon?
winter comes early here.
the wind whistles your name
oh, so quietly.
i gently close the door;
perhaps it will open again someday,
(—for i did love you,
What Is A KissWHAT IS A KISS?
The private language between
A dance to the Stars
An Ocean of sensations,
A whisper-light Invitation
The knowledge of a Belonging
The joy of 'homecoming'
The mystery of timeless
A tantalizing glimpse into
A dangerously deep dive into
The gentle flowering of emotion-
A shared journey of discovery...
the Promise of things to come.
Goodnighti am so tired (of) love
the way my bones creak i must be ancient
repeat the mantra over again
i (do not) love you
echoes like a broken amen
another time this might have worked
unanswered prayers float past stained-glass memories and hit the ceiling
(do not) compare me to the rain
and the flowers
you are every thing i could have hoped for
i wish i had never heard you say a single word
let me wallow in darkness and sheets
one more "i love you" hidden in the way you smile or the subtle sparkle in your dense-forest eyes
and i just might take a solemn march to the top of my grandmother's apartment building
and throw (myself) to the wind and the world below me
(do not) fall in love with my fancy phrases
or meaningless metaphors
tell me i am a horrible awful being and leave me to rot
why can't you make it easy on me
ashes to ashes
just one more year
here we go, in endless circles
crumpled grocery lists left on the counter
dates i can't rem
We're All Dreamersi.
Her wings used to flutter until they ripped her from the sky and bound her in chains. An underwater cave is now her home and the only memories she has of flying high are the images she painfully etches onto the walls. The jellyfish mock her with their tentacles and their ability to seamlessly float through the waters and all she can do is fight to break free until the water fills her lungs and causes her to blackout. She's hoping the lights come on soon and that this is all a dream because the marks on her ankles are becoming permanent and any signs she was ever anything different are fading quicker than the high tide.
"You need to stop dreaming about the impossible. It's called the impossible for a reason."
She was 7 and she wanted to be a fairy when she grew up, but they told her she needed to stop being ridiculous and quit dreaming. They took away her coloring books and sold her Peter Pan tape because she had grown much too fond of Tinker Bell and was becoming detached from r
For HerYou're on my mind,
Night and day.
I will get you,
I'll find a way.
I've seen your face,
Your beauty makes me stagger.
When I don't talk to you,
My heart was stabbed by a dagger.
Knowing you're far,
To far to see.
I question myself,
"Is she for me?"
She's miles away,
To far for me.
But talking to her,
Makes me happy.
I can't see her,
We can't even hug.
I'd praise her like a goddess,
She'd be my little love bug.
I'll say this.
I'll stay alone,
Till we share one kiss.
No Please, stop!" I scream,
Lips sewn shut
I have not been captured, I've been loved
Is it really so hard
to let me say no?
Like Moon and Seathe breeze from our breath bears one wind worth sailing
deep and necessary
like moon and sea
with tide and tidings
pulling us to the source
of all the dreams that sponsor our sincerity
magnetic magnanimity of such ponderous positivity
connecting the cruise
to the anti-cruise
and everything in between
through the spirit of the search for one life worth living
our feet become meant for one precious path worth walking
founded and grounded on an empty planet
we move our brave worlds in waves
and touch every place that we crave
leaving behind these creations of great curiosity
we work so hard to surpass the sun
terrific towers in the clouds
economies on the air of wings
all leading us to countless doors worth knocking
and if you are anything like me
fear sets in when you try to see
those first figures as your eyes adjust to obscurity
but it does get easier even when the evenings hurt
the god-turtle carries four elephantsstop asking me
this is not a time for breathing
this is not now, it is not
this is one second after
one minute after
one moment after
one minute after one
this is ad nauseum and i
don't ask me to breathe
are too heavy
to breathe through
Gathering MossWe all roll down hill once and a while, and by chance do we gather moss.
From green lips comes the kiss of vegetation
passionately burning from sun leafs
yet unforgiving as poison oak
Fingers rooting from soil crooked looking for water
as dew falls towards the sky
and they suffer thirsty
As cold as stone, buried deep like coal, everyone of us have roles.
But I find myself rolling and tossed
We once and a while are rocks gathering moss.
She left it in my car.
I was never sure
quite where it came from;
the shadowy spaces in her eyes,
or perhaps the drumming beat
her fingers left on the dash.
It first winked at me
an hour after she left, during
the quietest moment of the night,
when the stars compete
with each other, shining
It beat them all anyways.
I could never bring myself
to vacuum it away. She
had been cleaned from me,
every trace faded out and
made to look professional, just
so I could go on after she
trekked ahead in the sky;
the ultimate one-up, a
that I could never match.
She always told me that
life was beautiful, but
she was never beautiful enough
for it. She skipped out
on the biggest adventure,
read the ending, and shelved
me without asking.
I miss her winking teeth,
the dark matter of her smile, and
the way she made everything new
and shining (the way it never
could be on its own).
The stardust stays, though.
I don't give up so easily
(but of course, she
Don't Look BackYou are more than those names that you are called.
More than your race,
Your appearance or IQ.
You mean more than the scores you see on those papers,
The reflection you see in the mirror.
They are not you,
They do not define what you can become,
Or who you are right now.
My dearest friend,
Are whatever you choose to make of yourself.
You are not your past,
and you are not controlled by it.
The things that you have seen or done,
No longer matter.
Those feelings you have that you couldn't control,
That knife that slid on your wrists.
They are no more.
Figments of the past.
The bad choices we've all made,
The pain that we've all felt.
They are no more a part of us than we let them be.
Push away the thoughts of what could have been,
and look forward to what still can be.
Look around to those who love you,
Put your chin up for your brightest future,
but most of all,
Never look back.
Girls are to meGirls are to me
Like the stars to an astronomer
Beautiful and distant, I can only observe them
And, no matter how hard I try, I can't reach them
Girls are to me
Like the depths of the salty sea
If I try to get there
I know I will die from drowning
Girls are to me
like the highest mountains
The harder I try to climb
From higher I end up falling
And that's how girls are to me
I know it sounds weird
But it's just like that
The Unknown Poet From Nowhere
december snowShe casually breaks his heart on a regular spring morning, synonymous with bright sunshine and gentle breezes, shattering it on the pavement with a swift careless motion that leaves him doubled over and gasping for breath long after she departs.
"This isn't working, you know."
The birds chirp on, and he thinks that ignorance is bliss, sinking to the cobbled ground to pick up the broken pieces with his shaking fingers. The pieces are sharp around the edges, stinging when touched, and he cuts himself on one of them, his blood trickling away.
He continues moving on, living on, because–
(the human soul is a resilient thing)
–he can, and he tells himself that this happens to someone everyday. The world around him whirls around and around on its axis even as his knees buckle underneath him and threaten to drag him down into the molten core.
Spring turns into summer and fades all too quickly into winter, and he stares blankly at the walls around him, the gentle alaba
The WindowThe rain drizzles down
and gathers on the window sill,
beads of water
racing to the end.
I sit there,
and feeling vulnerable
as I realize
is the only barrier
that keeps me safe
from the world outside.
The rain comes harder,
beating against the side
of the house
bringing the thunder
such strong forces
against such a weak
But that window
keeps me safe.
What shall I give to you?What shall I give to you?
A castle I could build for you
of marble, gold, and solid stone,
but naught but fancy it would be,
just fleeting thought, when touched, it's gone.
What shall I give to you?
Could dream up epic tales of deeds
that, were they true, .would live forever,
But they would be just my dreams,
do such things, I couldn't ever.
What shall I give to you?
I have to hope that what I have,
a head that's full of fancies, see,
just maybe may be good enough
for you to also fancy me.
singing ahu-ahui go out walking
not because the city
like most things
what's out there
waiting for you
and going out
with that knowledge
to meet it
Insecurity, or EnvelopesI know that I could never write such crystalline words,
That shine in innocence.
To bring letters together,
I cannot create the words people seek.
Are you proud of me still?
How my fingers create the woven threads of magical letters,
Why still I turn to much greater, much more faithful lyrics.
Paper and pencils,
Typing digital versions of my imagination.
I hate how I can never
Create such beautiful words.
One More Week"One More Week:"
Sing-song about the bright, red fruit,
That sat in the middle of the marmalade sky
That was your favorite tune, you know?
The one you hummed before you died
Pick at the clouds like candy, dear,
Use them as a cotton swab
To rid your dirtied face of tears;
Ride the moon as an astronaut
You’ve only one more week
Send the ocean’s foam one last letter
And seal it with a kiss
Where you’re going, it’ll be much better
I know your heart is throbbing—
But, dear, the weeds that enclose your heart
Are resistant to pesticides,
Clip and they’ll grow again much stronger
You’ve only a little while,
Before the crabgrass squeezing your ventricle
Seems to fade away
And prick your finger on its spindle
Wave farewell, my dear—
Keep these meadows tucked in your knapsack
For we will meet again
And you will stay my friend
Love and Hate“Do you hate me?” I asked.
“No,” she told me. Her lips brushed against my cheek, extinguishing a single tear.
I knew she would be well within her rights to hate me; I’d done it again. I’d given in and let the demons overpower me. And yet, she held me tenderly in the aftermath, hiding the anguish she felt inside. Despair welled within her every time she dutifully wrapped my forearms in clean white gauze, but she never let it show. Seeing the crimson blood and broken flesh pained her; she was ill at the sight of what I had done. But nothing tore her apart more than imagining what depths of agony must have compelled me to do this to myself again.
She could never comprehend the brokenness, the abject madness that churned inside me each time I fell from grace, each time I surrendered to the depraved, twisted beauty of that glistening blade. Nor did she pretend to understand. She just knew I needed someone to break that fall. I needed someone to sit with m
I don't have the proper time to go through and notify everyone (since I'm going out of town today) But I'll do the best I can when I return home.
I hope everyone enjoys.
I love you people.