Saturday, April 9, 2011
Anytime I
Friday, April 1, 2011
Shotgun Wedding
I went to an open mic today with a poem
Sweating nervously, nervously sweating
I can’t believe how many people are here
Cosmic shifts in my stomach, acid reflux
Settling, unsettling, I find it mildly terrifying
Then I remember what you said to me
During an afternoon of tangled limbs
Breathlessly: “All art requires courage”.
Then I put my head to your chest and listened
Sounds of brittle wind chimes, diving boards
You’re already asleep. The pills you take are strong
So I kiss your cheek and go to sleep, too. I am in love.
I went to an open mic today with a poem
Smiling hopefully, hopefully smiling
I can’t help wonder if I’ve made a mistake
Feeling strange, like cereal or wet toast
Settling, unsettling, I find it mildly disheartening
Then I see you from across the room
Sipping coffee. Black. You’re wearing my jeans.
And suddenly, I know how to begin. I found the words
“Home is wherever I am with you”. I am in love.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
A canvas splattered with paint (stressors)
Friday, March 25, 2011
Love in all its elegance (and ugliness)
And when I wake in the morning
to your breathing, shimmying down
my neck, I can say without a doubt
I am alive
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Maps and Piggy Banks
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Keiko Lynn
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
5AM "Subtleties"
to wake the room, the birds, the street.
Even the refrigerator's buzzing
cannot pierce the grand utopia of 5AM silence.
But despite its subtleties, impenetrable
walls, a bomb, a grenade, a nuke
has broken the fortress, for I lie
awake, not wanting to listen
but listening nonetheless, to you
the gargling seraphim, to your
imposing, penetrating, incessant
chainsaw snores that have stolen hours,
precious time to doze peacefully, restfully
before morning demands more energy,
more vigilance than I, the typical
college student, can muster.
The sun is rising, you jerk
Revealing the circles under my eyes
No happily ever after for me
(Because you see,)
Instead of dreaming, I listen enviously to the sparrow
shaking sleep from its wings, mocking this
distressed damsel.
But rising in volume above its cheery songs,
your snores, your nails-on-a-chalkboard,
I-want-to-smother-you-with-a-pillow
snores. And I think to myself