More

I want more

of what I cannot have

and less of what I have.

It is always the poem of the day

that brings me joy

written in some notebook

or on a piece of paper

from an obscure poet

that I research in the middle of a lineup

of free coffee.

Where do you come from?

I tried to answer that question once

but failed miserably.

Such vagueness requires a multitude

of tides

each with its own seashell story.

I try to be normal

but fall flat on my face.

I am raising my children too freely

I should restrict them

deny them

border them up

but I show them to fly instead

and when they leave me too

I will cry

for notย holding them closer

than I should have

like all the Greek mothers before me.

I know I speak too much of this and that

and I probably bore you

and it’s so easy to move onto the next poet

who rhymes and meets your IQ requirement

but I left my soul at the beach again,

death recited lines

lit a candle for the dead again

prayed for other’s lives.

My third eye aches

wishes to go blind,

one disappointment after another

another brain cancer tumor

and all the memories flood back

holding everyone else up

with courage I never even thought I had.

I come from places I’ve never been to

and people I’ll never meet.

I want more of what you have.ย 

 

 

 

 

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17 thoughts on “More

    1. Wow, did I write that? When someone writes them it feels so surreal. I thank you so much for connecting with the lines and my poetry. appreciate you taking the time and reading me. :))

      Like

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