A poem: Breathe, he said. I do not want to breathe, I want to pull my pants up. ......
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eight years ago. pasta and potatoes at every meal empty pockets; only food that fit my budget. in a new city, needing a rebirth, living out of my suitcase, on the wrong side of the tracks. early mornings, up to catch the train. i watched drug deals happen and turned my face against the icy Spring wind that was trying to freeze me; wondering what I was thinking. <3 hustling on the phone to pay my rent, pay my debts. convinced by the eclectic crowd to grow to love the city, to learn to love the night life. the introvert…
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Yours Forever. I want to make out with you in alleyways- I want to trace your cheek with the tip of my finger. I want to lace my heart with yours forever. Our hands always held before we jump in to each other.
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A poem I wrote. Distant. Always. I had my guard up. I raised my fists high. I raged. I was all alone; There was no one to fight But I fought til I was drained I am all alone still, Fists clenched at my sides, No fight left in me. My tears could fill oceans Because nobody sees Past my thrown out bored small talk We touch base in computer keys, No voice to set the tone. Distant always.
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When I was 14 I used to write a poem or two or ten every day. I have notebook upon notebook. Just those plain black coiled notebooks. Most of it is TERRIBLE. I was never formally trained so they have no rhythm and I couldn’t tell you what type of poem any poem is- of mine or anyone else. I grew up completely enamored with Lord Alfred Tennyson and E.E. Cummings and read their poetry over and over. Growing older I realized some song lyrics are very much poetry as well; such as everything by Leonard Cohen and Hawksley Workman’s…
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Trying my hand at poetry again. It’s not that great but I love the sentiment and the man who inspired it so here goes. Yes, it’s a love poem- very original, hey? It’s just that I used to write poetry in my troubled teens and writing of angst is so much easier. My Anchor You are my rock. No. No, no. My anchor. Yes. You are my anchor. You keep me grounded, You prevent me F l o a t i n g Out to the sea, Eaten by sharks. Keeping my boat Tethered to the sea floor Safe from…
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Poetry is hard. I am no longer the arrogant, emotional 13-year-old I used to be that thought everything she wrote was gold. Poetry is difficult and I am not a free-flowing river of tears and joy any more. I am usually too drained at the end of the day to face my emotions head on and write poetry. And something else I discovered? There is no poetry without a pen and paper. I cannot write it on my laptop with a keyboard. It just doesn’t work right. It sounds as mechanical and stilted as it should being written on a…
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Anyone who is in a relationship or married needs to ask themselves one question. That question is not “Do I love this person?” but “Do I LIKE them?” That is the true measure of any relationship. Do you like spending time with that person? Do you have great conversations? Do you like wiling away the hours together in comfortable conversation or comfortable silence? Not do I love him. Love can be lust, anger, drama as excitement, or can fade too quickly. Many people who love each other can be completely wrong for each other. You HAVE to pair friendship with…