i think the way the sun shines on you
has nothing to do with the sun
to do with you.
I know that age matters not
right now, but then it did.
It mattered when we raced against
the wind. I was just a babe in your arms.
You were a man even as a teenager.
You had this way of bringing me love
on a tray, and spoiling me until
I was full on your love. I had it
all, for a brief time. I showed you
my cuts and bruises
and you kissed them. Your lips
on my shoulders within seconds.
My hands unbuckling your belt
in such a frantic youthful way
in an ageless time
between this world and the next.
Let’s remember where we were
and lament the age of us.
It matters that you see past
the girl. We felt invincible
and will never know that freedom
again, that youthful love we held
onto so naurally.
Some people love you
for all the right reasons
but you still go searching
for the wrong ones. The ones
that keep you up or
make you want to smoke up
all day. I never hide behind
a persona or a brand,
I am what I am
but always me. I woke up
in a Woody Allen movie
you can guess the title
but you know it’s dysfunctional
and petty yet narcissistic. I
liked talking to you
because you never interrupt
and this is such a quality
that I adore. I don’t have
scorn, I just love you
so I put up these walls
to protect myself
from how much I care.
I will never tell you,
of course, or maybe
if I’m drunk and Purple
Rain’s solo is on and you
turn to me and with your
eyes you tell me
how you never meant
to cause me any sorrow.
I know. I am smarter
than you think. I carry
you like e.e cummings poem
nowadays it’s modern:
in my phone, in my pocket,
but in another era
it was in my heart
you are invisible to everyone
but me. You are like
popping into my life
like the pills
I loved you and lost
a true poet
and you can’t get
any closer to
art than a few hours
alone in a locked room.
Stay beautiful and strong
when others try to break
your soul, it’s not you
they want, it’s your beauty and art.
Some people create friendships
to bully you, steal your man,
betray your wife. Some people
want to catch you weak
and vulnerable to spread it
on the evening news. The
only way to love is by blocking off
focus on your art.
People will either love you
or hate you
and if you are really talented
if you have a gift
they hate you even more.
It’s too easy to kill a spirit these days
with group chats instead of mobs
with tweets instead of telephone wires.
It is as if people have lost the ability
to be compassionate
and only care for attention
seeking out the evil
jealousy through harassment.
The sad part is most of these
people I have witnessed doing this
are women. If you want to get your
power back, this is not the way
to do it. It sickens me. And for this
my heart gets broken
I feel too much and I would rather
It was a crisp autumn night. We changed
the course of our history. We lit
up the night with the stars in our eyes.
A thousand ships sailed by. Still. We
did not look away. I tried to drink my
cosmo slow. I tried to not peek at your
hands. But nothing I tried, worked.
I’m drowning in my own flood of words.
Can you still see me or have I faded out?
Hope and hockey hold hands in love and I
think about you. All the fucking time.
You did it. You made me want you when I
didn’t even try. You said nothing about me
was common, and other phrases that kept
me awake. Running to the moon, right before
sunrise. Your words are ingrained like
photos in a wallet. A lost love. Art. Habit.
I should insist more but I like to drive
fast and sing along to your favourite song,
wear your favourite perfume.
But the most impressive part of this book
is how it showed me how to find myself in between
the realms you never looked.
This is the first time I am publishing this poem on my blog. It is from my book of poetry of the same title. Hope you enjoy it.
Working on a new chapbook, to be published by Mad Wolf Publishing.
I met you at a time when I felt lost
and all the physical pain
collided with my emotional state.
You were the last person in the room
to approach me, and the first to notice.
I told you a story about how lovers
were stuck between all the worlds
they created and you rolled your eyes at
me. Oh, God, you said, another poet.
I’ve never met another one, I said.
Don’t fall in love with him I told myself.
Although I knew I would be the first
to fall for your dark eyes before you
even noticed mine. They were
as dark as my thoughts. You’ll
break my heart and I’ll lose count
of all the ways you want to love me
and other stupid thoughts kept
pestering my brain. shutthefuckup my brain.
I just want to get over someone
so badly, you said.
Me too, I said because it didn’t sound
so pathetic as (well step right up handsome
I’m the one). It’s funny how my mind
says one thing and my mouth another
or my mind thinks one thing and I type another.
No one really knows me then.
They just think they do.
I went to the bathroom and you were gone.
I thought that was just perfect.
A perfect ending to an awful night.
I had concocted all these ideals
that you were the one
and other such bullshit
but in the end
you were another character in my poem
I never knew.
I scared you with my witch eyes for sure
and other such nonsensical thoughts
raged my brain
of why men leave me.
I want this date to last more than hours
but you never even made it to the restaurant.
It is so fine with me, I would rather eat alone
and dip my fries in sauce and eat like a pig
and not be judged for using too many conjunctions.
I want you, I really do, but I am changing
every day into an evolved woman. Not yet
married, divorced, separated, cheated,
I am only a young girl wanting someone
who I can never have because then all
the morals written in my chest will be
broken. I will feel broken in this city
we can never see each other in. I already
see the future of Sundays turning
into every other day.
You are so close to my house
and even if you drive by
I will have aged like a dog.
You will have had a multitude
of women while I am hooked
on one life line. It is this way
for I drive my own car and
let no one guide me.
I know which walls to put up
and which ones to let you in
but remember a date is
just a time and place
when two people
either show up
or decide otherwise.
Either way, it’s a date.