PleaseI am consumed by a love concocted of carnivals, carousels, and the color green.
My heart beats to the sound of the circus but if I were a lion, you could not tame me.
I want to be wild and free with you, feel you, feel your thoroughbred horse skin over muscle,
then muscle against bone until we are running with our backs to the neon lights,
moving through time in a space of supernovas,
completely unbridled movement of hips and hooves and heavenly angels,
then it's your firefly wings burning through me like a Saturday night fever
and I'm sweltering under your touch,
but my love for you is strange
because as you hold me with empty arms,
I realize that I have been writing passionate poems
about days that were never ours
and moments that I only wished.
So God if you can hear me
please let me have him
or at least give me the strength to move on.
The Last Lie of SummerQuiet days, the overcast sky keepsThe Last Lie of Summer3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
to itself, ignoring the living for weeks
at a time.
From half a state away-
you could hear trains roll through
towns like mine.
There is peace
and it can't be trusted
given to the first
This was the calm before the calm.
The man that is seen, but
"Tomorrow I will say hello to him."
But we are all too busy dressing healed wounds.
The Last DetentionI've spent too many years sittingThe Last Detention4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in the back of a classroom.
We see thousands of chalkboard faces
in the evening haze of rush hour traffic.
The nicest days of the year always happen
when our Teachers give us detention.
We can't be trusted to punish ourselves.
Grab a stick of chalk and begin.
100 times- I will not cheat on my husband.
100 times- I will not miss my nephew's soccer game so I can drink alone.
100 times- I will not leave smaller tips for the older, less attractive waitresses.
100 times- I will finally get the courage to kiss her tonight.
100 times- I will tell him it is over if he hits me again.
100 times- I will not be weak.
100 times- I will notice the sky today.
100 times- I will invite the widow in 5A to Christmas Dinner.
100 times- I will call my sister.
100 times- I will learn the difference between what is worth fighting for and what isn't.
100 times- I will ask my co worker how he is doing and actually care.
100 times- I will do more than just get by.
What if there
DriveIt was going to be last night.Drive4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Instead, I drove until sunrise and
had breakfast at a truck stop diner.
I spent the day, lost in a nature reserve
on the frayed edges of a small town.
I made myself forget its name and,
somehow, I found my way back home.
I once told you that the world
would become a better place.
I intend to keep that promise.
Love is...Love isLove is...4 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
I want to hold you close,
As the rain falls down around us,
I want to tell you how much I care,
Even if the rain talks over me,
I want you to know,
That no matter what,
I'll always be here,
Standing in the rain,
Take my hand,
And we'll enjoy the sunshine,
Don't worry about the coming storm,
I'll be here when the lightning strikes,
Let's just enjoy,
The time we have together,
Even if it's a short time,
I want only to be with you,
I'll give you the key to my heart,
As long as you promise to treasure it,
Don't throw it away,
Like all the other's have,
Give me something to believe in,
Let me know the sun will always shine,
And you'll always be by my side,
Show me what love is,
Promise to hold me close,
On the lonely cold nights,
I don't want to feel alone,
I just want that pain to go away,
Hold my heart in your hands,
But please don't squeeze too tight,
I'm afraid it's going to burst,
With how much love I h
So AliveI just keep running.So Alive4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Blades in my hands as I write
Cutting through you
breathe in, breathe out.
I just keep telling myself that.
To keep on going
I'm stronger than that
smile today, smile tomorrow.
ForeclosureWhere are they now?Foreclosure4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
emerald city slums,
dirt in the sky.
The child fell off his bike and
skinned his knee. He cried when
I tried to help him up. Ants carried
his blood away. We don't need
that kind of pride.
A woman in Pasadena sold a slice
of toast with F.D.R.'s face on it.
I thought it looked more like you
standing in the rain.
We were asked to recreate the Gospels and
you suggested Michael Bay.
Some things never change.
Columbus found America,
the same way Descartes found existence,
the same way my brother found bourbon
the same way a horse finds religion.
It was always there so
just be careful with it.
We're all afraid of snakes.
The boy who swallowed a tempestShe once loved a boy who swallowed a tempest.The boy who swallowed a tempest4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her fingertips couldn't quell the storm,
He thrashed, hurricanelike,
In their sea of sheets.
When the Sabbath came,
And he couldn't choke out three words,
She ran home to her mother,
In her big wooden house.
She cut off all her hair,
Still safe high in her tower.
Her prince loved a king,
She locked the door and ate the key.
He lay in bed alone,
Kings don't keep bed with stable-boys,
And for the first time,
He missed her, but not like that.
Opening a window,
He lit a match, and blew smoke,
And rose to her threshold,
She said nothing.
No sorries were said,
But that night, they slept soundly.
9-1-1Nine-one-one, I need your help9-1-15 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
No, I'm not bleeding: on the outside I'm fine
But no one will look between the lines
There's not a knife in my heart
If you're looking for one that's real
There's one of emotion not one of steel.
I'm not drowning in water
But instead in mistakes.
That perfect girl they see? She's all fake.
I tell all my friends the "truth",
But I tell it like a joke or lie
So they have only themselves to blame when I die.
Maybe they'll all stand around
After my funeral, at my grave
Saying they never saw any hints that I gave.
So operator, remember this conversation.
I told someone these things I've been afraid to show.
It's ironic, really, that it's all to someone I don't even know.
Will You Marry MeYour face is smoothWill You Marry Me3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
like the edge of a freshly wiped blade
Your skin is warm
like teardrops in a steel morgue
Your hands are soft
like linen sheets over pale, cool remains
Your hair falls to your shoulders
with the accuracy of a weighty noose
Your stride is as confident
as a blood-spattered Gladiator
Your legs send my heart
into a state of hysteria with an assassin's efficiency
Never have I wanted so badly
something so fearsome
Now tell me, my darling,
Picking DandelionsThere's something comfortingPicking Dandelions4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
About sleeping in your bed, lovely,
Even if it is empty.
There's something about
Burying my face in these pillows
That barely smell like you anymore;
A kind of musky, outdoors smell
- hidden deep beneath the sweet tang
Of laundry detergent -
That reminds me of swing sets
There's something comforting
About curling up in the hollows
You left behind in these box springs.
There's a strange, almost magical,
Warmth woven into these blankets;
A warmth that seeps through
My iceberg bones
And somehow manages to fill
The gaping holes in my composure.
It may not be much:
Frayed cotton drawn around
But it is enough
To remind me of your arms
Tight around me.
I lay here, remembering all these
And it makes me feel somehow
Emptier, even as they fill me up.
I remember everything:
Playing tag, chasing bees,
Our ploys to save endangered cheetahs.
Every moment of our childhood
Comes back to me in thi
Killing Fields-For HumanityKilling Fields4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's after the fact.
White tail deer-
Winter fields that
stretch an inch more
than tomorrow's pain.
And there's no way to know
just how far that really is.
(Thank you for that)
I've tried to walk across
the hard emptiness.
In the middle, there is a
column. It holds up the sky.
This is where the line is drawn.
I always stop there. Maybe it's
only a tree but I find myself
further troubled with every sunset.
Today I found a book filled with pictures and interviews of Cambodian land mine victims.
Men. Women. Children. People. Children.
The most beautiful woman I have ever seen only had half of her face.
A seven year old boy with no legs still tried to play soccer with the other kids.
I'm going to that field tonight.
I'm going to carve their names in that tree.
I'm going to keep walking until I'm not afraid.
To Death They CallTo the dead, they call me.To Death They Call4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
To receive me.
To haunt me.
To torture me.
They come by to say "it'll be soon"
"Soon for what" I ask.
I fear my darkest hour is arriving.
To the death they call.
To them we mean nothing.
But some of them mean something.
The loved ones.
Or the hated ones.
To the death they call us.
They want us.
To haunt us.
To be us.
Dear GodDear God,Dear God4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Let me just start out by saying that
I know I don't believe in you
- I don't think I ever did.
I know church was just an obligation to me,
Filled with psalms and flickering candles.
I know I've "sinned",
And I'm sorry
- that's what you say
When you're in confession,
Right? I'm sorry?
(more than I've told the truth),
I've committed blasphemy
Godhow I've used your name in vain).
You could even say that
I'm not happy with what I have
(is this body really something to be proud of?).
But worst of all those sins,
I've committed murder.
I've killed the person
You used to know.
That innocent little girl
Who used to balance your book
In her tiny hands
And caress its weight to her chest;
Those papyrus-thin words
Rustling as they impacted
Her still developing morals.
The little girl
Who created ripples in
Your bowl of holy water
- watching as they rebounded
And slowly stilled into
Finding My Way HomeThis isn't livingFinding My Way Home4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
This is taking each day at a time,trying to hold back tears
Trying not to think of how all my fears
I'm so lost without you
This isn't home
Home is with her,
Her sea-blue eyes and her half crazed laughter
Home are our stories,
With faeries and castles and happily ever after
Back home,there's a girl who means everything
The difference between dying and living
I'm awake,but with her,
It's like I never stop dreaming
BeautyShe baked cookies every Saturday morning. The doorbell would ring, without fail, and always interrupt my favorite cartoon show. I dragged my young body down the stairs and opened the front door. The elderly woman, our neighbor, beamed at me. She held a large tray of freshly baked treats in her fragile arms. Always filling my head with rustic banter, I listened to her speak, nodding with false interest. Typically we chatted for half an hour, then, with an enormous smile, she turned away and shuffled back home. Welcoming her departure, I stuffed my mouth with a pecan sandy and raced back upstairs.Beauty4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her husband passed away in his sleep one Friday night. She called my mother the next afternoon to let her know of the man's death and also to apologize for missing our Saturday morning ritual. Sunday evening, I heard a gentle tapping on the door. I peeked out the window and saw her standing
A Letter to No OneThe clock ticked against silence,A Letter to No One3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.
Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.
A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.
Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.
Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkle hope,
Not one ray from the busy moon.
On the clock’s tick, a rope was hanging.
On the clock’s tock, a form was thrashing.
A tired, hoarse throat gasps for life,
Cut abruptly by the Reaper’s scythe.
Poems on the shelf with an unknown author.
Paintings on the wall left unsigned.
Just another heart trapped in horror,
An unfinished l
Opium MindednessIt's ok to pretend.Opium Mindedness4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I like to color outside
of my skin and ruin
other people's drawings.
It's ok reader.
If I get a little blue
in their sun and
make it "go" green
they can always just
take their crayons and
turn to the next page.
Did I just break the fourth wall?
I was taking you somewhere.
Luckily, this can be fixed.
It is by the request of the author that only those with extensive knowledge of drywall and/or masonry read further into this poem.
It's ok to pretend.
Some people, right now,
are pretending to be
Some people think
they can fix crumbling walls.
Some people are pretending
that fate is actively interfering
in their worthlessly significant lives.
I know for a fact that Fate dropped out of junior college and is working two dead end jobs to afford diapers for his twin girls. Meanwhile, Fate's girlfriend, Bianca, is lying on the floor experiencing the effects of a heroin overdose. Although
the ones they call the foolsWe were a list of promises broken,the ones they call the fools6 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
exhausted and frightened to be held
in the hands of dreamers and liars
have the tendency
to let slip the things
That’s why we’re fleeting.
Why poets call us clouds
with no real direction.
we’re both running away
Write Mecounting the dust in the sunlight;Write Me2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and dew drops on fallen leaves,
embrace the mist from waterfalls;
come name the stars with me.
forge your worries on sea shells;
go toss them near and far,
close the times of misses;
and dream for dreams that are.
CruxI’m only sure of two things:Crux3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I still carry pieces of your cross on my back and
lilies were your favorite flower
Those last three months-
A silent drive home from the mall
purse full of stolen makeup
Dinners with my family where no one
bothered to make the conversion
Endless hours spent looking at paint samples
and I was smart to not buy the brushes
The line at the liquor store blended
with the lines on the road
At the same time with you
Then it was summer and you talked me into a country drive. We stopped on the side of the road to watch a cow giving birth in the center of a pasture. But, the calf never rose to its wobbly legs or felt the heat of the Indian summer….it never tasted dandelions.
The mother stood by the calf’s body
long past nightfall
and I stood by yours
long after that
Was this what we meant when we said forever?
Lessons LearnedThere are many to knowLessons Learned4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in this short while.
Of politics and science
Of myths and mysteries.
But those that count
aren't found in books
The classroom, the world
and you, the only student.
They, your teachers.
Not even attendance day to day.
But the lessons you'll learn
are of the greatest value.
Not pen or paper
will be needed to note them.
Instead, you'll live them
in this life.
Destination: UnknownOurDestination: Unknown4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
forged from borrowed mouths:
rejecting our reality,
substituting their own.
s u b s e q u e n t l y
paying the toll
for such unconventional behavior.
- - - - - - w
Paper WhispersThere’s something about the breath of poetryPaper Whispers7 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
I can’t quite put;
an unread page,
an unheard note,
in the most wrong
& the most right
Granite TearsI once knew a girlGranite Tears4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who always wore
A ponytail of wispy golden hair
(That you could count on to be
Half falling out by the end of the day),
A smile full of white teeth and pink gums
(That was so bright and wide
The whole room would light up when she walked in)
And a black jacket with
The sleeves rolled up above her elbows,
As if she couldn't stand
To have anything on her arms.
Her eyes were the most brilliant shade of color
I'd ever seen, and I often found myself
Telling the summer sky,
"You could learn a thing or two from her eyes."
I know a girl
Who always wears
Her hair down in front of her face
(And it really did look better blonde)
As if to hide from the world.
Her eyes are the most brilliant shade of color
I've ever seen, but they're dull and lifeless
And I sometimes find myself
Asking the summer sky
To stop being jealous and give her back her blue.
She doesn't smile or laugh
Hell, she doesn't even talk.
She just sits there, like stone
And I sometimes wonder i