Not Your TomorrowI am not your tomorrow,
Not your crashing ocean waves,
Not your ruby sunset or sapphire swells.
I am not your envy,
Not your cold reflection,
Not your jagged knife or darkened shroud.
I am not your music,
Not your sifted melody,
Not your ivory keys or silver harp strings.
I am not your south,
Not your north,
Not your aging map or glass compass.
I am not your wings,
Not your escape,
Not your trickling hourglass or locked journal.
Starting Over, Growing UpI was sick of the pink,Starting Over, Growing Up3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It was on every wall,
And every accent color
Was more pink.
I wanted white
A clean slate
The color of a new life
A new beginning
I asked you to help
We wore old jeans
Ripped band shirts
Nothing we minded ruining.
Me, being cautious,
I let you go on the ladder
And rip down the lights
A pink chandelier
We stripped the walls
And brushed over them
Using a massive paint roller
We turned the walls white.
I threw out the pink bedspread,
Tore up the pink carpet,
Ripped down the pink blinds
And pink valences.
Three weeks later
We sat back to back
In my new room
This was a beginning
The start of a colorful life
One lived in the bleakness
Of the every-day world
The ArtistThere is a crack in the door,The Artist3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A fissure in the musty wall,
A break in the monotonous white.
The eyes of the night stare in,
Dilated pupils stretched into slits,
Looking for a soul to collect.
I am the artist,
A tangle of hair tied into a knot,
Bent over an old desk.
There is a light in the corner,
A broken spectrum,
Blanketed by matted spider webs.
They watch me as my hand moves,
Painting the world in word,
Cracked lips deprived of moisture.
My eyes have become the night,
Opening and closing to the world,
Only seeing a story.
It is unfolding,
Building like the new highway upstate,
Unfurling like a new blossom.
I am learning how to become,
Learning how to fly with the masses,
Learning how to use these broken wings.
They fold behind me and haunt me,
Follow me as I scrawl a story,
Never leading, just submissive to my movement.
I wish the night was blind,
Destroyed lenses like the camera,
Cracking to pieces in my white hands.
It sees me as I begin to fall into the world,
The beautiful drea
SunlightI remember you being a goddess,Sunlight3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Flanked by two golden wings,
Sunrays stretching out from your shoulder blades,
Just reaching past your extended finger tips.
Azure skies painted with a careful stroke,
Fading to a point on the horizon,
Feathered clouds filling the expanse,
Your pale face turned upwards.
When the clouds came in troops,
The onslaught of rain,
You told me to wait for the sun,
The shower beating against your face.
On Sundays, we had picnics,
Red checkered blankets,
Steaming pots of jasmine tea.
We were children again,
Our hands laced with ribbons,
Butterfly wings behind our ears,
Laughing late into the setting sun.
I recall a time when you told me you loved life,
And I wondered how it could all be beautiful,
I wondered how it could be so pure,
Your eyes always were blind to darkness.
You were the sunlight,
Dancing until the last rays slipped away,
Drifting to the shadows at nightfall,
Sleeping in the dark.
Little Bird Asked Me WhyLittle bird alightedLittle Bird Asked Me Why3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
On a branch
And asked me why
I cry at night.
Little bird sang
Just for me
And ask me why
I wonder so much.
Little bird stretched
Her silken wings
And asked me why
I cannot love anymore.
Little bird flew
Went far away
And I asked myself why
I regret it so much.
Letters to ButterfliesMy dear, winged and crowned,Letters to Butterflies3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Draped in your threads of dew,
Eyelashes of golden pollen dust,
Wings, folder for prayer.
Fly to my forbidden name,
The soft harmony in every letter,
The gentle curls written in cursive,
The hidden message within.
I remember those summer days,
Alighting on falling rose petals,
Drifting in the gentle breeze,
The unrelenting current.
There were times we whispered,
Long stories told in myth,
The white roses left to thrive.
My dear, departing my palm,
Cupped, memories of flight,
Written onto my life line,
Floating away on newly opened wings.
I Am the InkI am the ink,I Am the Ink3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The blackness on your paper,
The stain on the rug,
The words you never speak.
I am the ink,
The promises you keep,
The writing in the margins,
The thumbprint on the coffee mug.
I am the ink,
The canvas paintings on the wall,
The hollows of an ivory carving,
The letters never sent.
I am the ink,
The pen you position in your hand,
The chain around your neck,
The shadows at midnight.
I am the ink,
The black flowered sketch,
The Asian painting,
The footprints in the sand.
Love in All Places...I like a boy.Love in All Places...3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
There, I said it.
Me, the girl who most people
Think is entirely emotionless
But I like a boy.
I'm on the science Olympiad team,
So is he.
I stay on because of him,
But I enjoy the explosions,
And the mechanics,
And the wires.
They coil around my finger
Like a ring I cannot afford
Like a beautiful wreath
Science is who I am
Science is also who he is.
Peering delicately over a bubbling beaker,
Hoping he will notice me
As I list the plastic recycle codes
And from memory.
Hoping he will look up.
Stop for a moment,
Leave the word of building behind,
Notice that I'm there,
In science Olympiad
When I should be in photography club.
But I love it anyway.
Hard to relate to love,
Usually considered cold,
Like the letters and subscripts
Of formulas I know by heart.
But I love science.
Probably because I love him.
I'm on my way to becoming
Paying the DebtHer face was veiled by the black,Paying the Debt3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A thin scarf, the shroud of the evening,
Lips as red as sin
Artificial like the poison she wielded
Or the tiny bullets that pierce the night.
Eyes pitch black,
Like a doll, lifeless,
Stolen colors that will never return,
Reruns of movies made before my lifetime
All in black and white.
I must pay the debt
For the sins my mother and father committed,
My father in his suit
And heavy cigars
Flickering, so deadly.
And my mother
Thin and elusive,
Ivory skin against the noir of her dress,
The glistening curls that frame her face
A woman, posing.
Those were the ages
They have long forgotten
Fine wine, imported cheese,
A night of star watching
Acting in the theater
I never see them.
Not because they reject me,
But because they no longer exist,
Fading slowly to the low light.
I hate to look at my reflection
See that I am my mother
So evil and sinister
She was an actor
A dancer in a cabaret
A singer in a speak-easy
The Traveling Wish ListRemember my bloodThe Traveling Wish List3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
When you shut your eyes
And remember the blue veins
Filled with memory and line,
Archives stained in ink.
And write me a story
Of pages stained with ocher
And dappled with Cherie
To remind me of the dream
We wrote together.
Send me a letter from the coast,
From the other side
Where dandelions grow
Wild and fiercely yellow
Like the golden flecks in your eyes.
Breathe in the words we sang,
The words the night scripted
In silver stars and sunbursts,
In the fading light of dusk
Sing to me in the low-light,
The streets lined with gold and
Silver, paved in tears
And memories of summers
Long forgotten, yellowing diary entries.
And dance to the ocean
The clear melody inscribed in my heart
the color of rainfall
The rushing of a cresting wave,
The blossoming droplets that fall at your feet.
BookkeeperI am a historian, a bookkeeper, a bibliophileBookkeeper2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who collects memories and words,
Compiles them in sentences,
Misconstrued meanings and slamming in puzzle pieces,
I could never be patient to form a face.
Like a songbird, I can keep a tune without words,
Play it back on endless repeat,
Dial back to the ages of symphonic sound
And write it without notes,
Spell it without meaningless letters.
I build memories from glossy toned pictures
And summer breezes
And the idea of what a first snowfall really is
Or the way the ocean looks on a clear sunset
Or the feel of water on my fingertips.
Nothing is preconceived for me
And I build a foundation on unknowing,
A house which wavers and bends
And shakes during the earthquakes
But continues to stand two feet in the ground.
There are enemies in the trees and they are my ghosts,
Haunting me with fears of the past
I would sooner forget if I could
And encircling me with doubt
And a willingness to put faith in nothing.
I can't sculpt and I build every day k
The Taste of Your WordsThe taste of your wordsThe Taste of Your Words2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
A chrysalis in the underbrush,
Uncomfortable in the river swells,
Weakened by the winds
In the pale yellow of summer
In the closing chapter
Of milky white constellations
Lost in translation
To be silence.
Colorless BrideEverything became Vintage to you,Colorless Bride3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The lace on your dress,
The copper key on a cord around your neck,
The journal you kept so close to your heart.
And on that brisk autumn night when you said "I do,"
He became Vintage too
And everything around you was stained sepia tone,
Even the red roses succumbed to the dullness.
You were always a dreamer,
But something kept you from spreading your gossamer wings,
A velvet cord wrapped around your right forearm,
A soft-spoken henna tattoo on your palm.
The wedding dress was soft and lace,
One your mother had worn before you,
When this day was but a far-off thought,
A singular feather of down in the late summer breeze.
When you fastened the covered buttons with your delicate touch,
The world began to fade and blur,
Slowly becoming what you always thought it would be,
The color draining into the margins of the page.
And as you walked down the aisle
a red so deep it was almost purple,
You began to see the colorless and the fading,
The dreamless and the
SympathyI never asked for your sympathy,Sympathy2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Never wanted you to cry tears
That belonged to me.
Never wanted you to sleep
In the darkened meadow
Writing poetry under the willows.
I never asked for your words,
Never wanted you to loose yourself
In the red-covered English dictionary.
Never wanted you to fly away
To a place where snow falls up
And waterfalls hang like tapestries.
I never asked for your scorn,
Never wanted your rough voice
Stained with blood and smoke.
Never wanted you to know
The secrets about me
I had kept hidden for years.
I never asked for your dying breath,
Never wanted you to return
To the rolling hills and ocean blue.
Never wanted you to regret the lies
Or anything else for that matter
Or the sympathies of seasons changed.
I CannotYou cannot know that you are dying,I Cannot3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And I cannot tell you,
Cannot look into those golden eyes
And say "these are your last days",
Your last moments.
I cannot breathe your air for you,
Cannot stay in this world,
Live what will be left behind.
I cannot step into your body
Limp with exhaustion
Empty, searching for a soul.
You cannot know that you are leaving,
Cannot know we will be in tears,
And I cannot weep for you,
Lament in the loss of a spirit,
Or walk where there is no ground.
I cannot stop the waves from crashing into the shore,
Cannot stop the stars from soaring overhead,
Experience your steady heart beat,
Or stop you from leaving.
Cannot have the voice to say good-bye.
Past and PresentI just can't keep up with these times.Past and Present3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
My life belongs in the black and white,
The sepia tone and water-stained pictures I never knew.
That was never my time, as far as decades are concerned,
But a part of me was born in that promise,
Captured in a moment where I cannot return.
It's my only desire,
To meet a world I would have never known
In centuries and summers long forgotten.
The cameo I wear around my neck is a blissful memory,
A memento of the vintage times I never knew,
A reminder of the past that still remains.
Antique perfume bottles line my window,
Splitting the pane a million-fold,
Glinting like a frozen seascape.
My rustic clock has be wound too many times,
The resonating, gentle tick that echoes,
A simplistic moment of time.
Speaking in these times is difficult,
My lungs filling with the decaying air
And hurtful words that stain like coffee.
I prefer tea, myself.
A delicate sip of Earl Grey with a flourish of cream,
A lace of honey.
I wish my world was a place of lace,
EscapeI've always dreamed of leaving,Escape3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Flying to a far away place,
Holding hands on another cost,
The same blue ocean.
In your eyes, I see "I love you,"
Written carefully in script,
In other beautiful languages,
A remarkable landscape of green.
You would kiss me,
Fill the silence with your voice,
Full of unspoken word,
Lush and flowering.
I imagine this moment,
The wind, languid, dying,
The ocean a crescendo,
Rumbling long into the night.
MagicianThe magician pulls a blind over my eyes,Magician3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Turns the blue and green to the ocean,
Metamorphosis of silver streams,
Yawning in the fading daylight.
Soft words chanted around me like mist,
Twist what was into what is,
Gilded magic-light across my eyes,
Sun-lit skies turning into the dark and the stars.
Mirrors and smoke; he makes truth of the lies,
Solids are gases, and not even hot.
Flourishes covering brave transformations,
The alchemist's golden confetti distorts.
The orchestra strikes a brilliant cord,
Breaking the plaster molds,
The magician passes me his silken hat,
And from it I pull the arrival of dawn.
Conjurer, master of night and day,
Take off your hat absorb your applause.
Breathe in the fermented air, wink to the night,
A cloud of swirling dust, there is no more.
A FarewellGoodbye to you who writes,A Farewell3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Who graces the world with a song,
The rhythm of poetry,
A slumbering dove on the lake,
A requiem of white roses.
Goodbye to you who changes,
Who rewrites the broken,
The unreeled record,
A key that will not fit,
A haiku without feeling.
Goodbye to you who thinks,
Who believes in a better place,
The world seen through imagination,
A silk tie, unfurling,
A new day on the horizon.
Expedition Letters to GraceDear Grace,Expedition Letters to Grace4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You told me, back when we were visiting Peru and I was feeling down, that I would eventually find my calling in life. I write to you now to tell you, quite happily, that I have.
I can't explain much about it at the moment, only that my sudden absence from the university is for a reason. As I write, I am currently en route to New York City, to visit their museums and get a taste of the culture. I told you before how I wanted to visit New York while I had the chance, and now I travel with purpose.
I will say now, that while what I am about to do may seem strange to you, even mad, I can promise you that I am of sound mind and am determined to see my ambition through. Never before have I felt so strongly about the rightness of my decision. I will explain more in time. All I can tell you now is that I am launching my own expedition, and that it will be unorthodox, to say the least. I write you because you are my oldest and dearest friend, and I feel I can trust you.
Give my best
The Stellar Void"Can you kill me, please?"The Stellar Void5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I must have looked startled because her expectant gaze saddened a bit.
"I'm sorry. What?"
"Can you kill me?" Her face brightened as she repeated the morbid probe.
Confused, I couldn't help but notice her rather familiar clothes. Faded pink jeans, knock-off Converse shoes. Little black hoodie with a torn right sleeve.
"You just looked a bit angry and I figured you'd be the best person to ask."
I stood next to the bench. My backpack dug into my shoulder and I shrugged it off. It'd be awhile before the next bus came anyway.
She looked down the street. The dim lights barely revealed the closed shops and leaf strewn sidewalks. A short breeze caused the dead landscaping out front to rustle gently but now, it seemed slightly ominous.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." Her voice was hollow and even though she was turned away, I could sense the hint of disappointment.
Sighing, I sat on the other side of the bench. Pausing for a minute, I glanced up at the mos
The Fictional Part of ExistenceI paint myself in volumesThe Fictional Part of Existence2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And bind back the tendrils
Of meadow sweet
And summer orange.
And every breath
Is the poetry of your addiction
And the fleeting touch
Of illuminated letters.
The fictional part of existence
Is drenched in the sad sound
Of your footprints in the marsh
And the silver full moon.
And every spun thread
By spiders in the morning
Catches the dew
And drapes the faults.
With the ink of ages
Sit peacefully by the riverbank
Returning to silt.
Coffee StainsDress shoes click on the streets laid slick with cinnamon and wasted airCoffee Stains3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's sugar on your lipstick, darling; a dangerous affair.
You chose coffee
Like you chose romance
Just for the idea of romance; cream and smoked wood swirling around in your cup,
And steam curling up into the atmosphere like the locks in his hair.
Tantalisingly dark and hauntingly aromatic
You craved it
You mocked the raven that eyed you from its branch out in the blustering courtyard and
You didn't even like the taste.
The silver curve of the teaspoon showed your warped reflection like a deathly omen
It showed the line of your neck and each glittering pearl
The hanging clock on the wall, for all its carved hearts and varnished oak
Couldn't quite drown out the tolling
Pendulum swinging by your ear as you ran your hand along the creases in the leather seat
The sweet, too-strong perfume mingling with the scent of the
Dark black coffee
Much as the gold around his wrist had