Gold

It’s

been

a

while

since

I wanted

to hold

someone’s

hand

wanted to

hold them

in my arms

and sketch

their face,

their smile

melting

into memory

each time

I paint it on

feels like

I’ve struck gold

I want to keep on

digging.

 

June 2, 2016

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The Revenant

Last night,

at the movie,

you sat next to me.

 

The theater

was full,

I sat alone

between you

and three guys,

conscious

of my singleness.

 

But then you

rolled over,

to share his faux

leather recliner,

and I smiled.

 

Most of the time,

my independence

likes being alone.

 

It gets its own seat.

 

March 5, 2016

why I’m still into monogamy

Like a sunflower at dawn

the light circles the window,

slowly, from pane to pane:

white fabric fading along

the edges, the slight smudge

of gray near the nightstand,

a black and white journal

shedding its ink. The carpet

is still blue, like an autumn sky

with a few scattered clouds,

makeup stains sprawling.

The dresser is dark wood and tall

like a castle, the mirror elegantly

gazing at the front wall, a pair

of slippers hiding underneath.  I

open two drawers and find them

empty; the other four, stacked full:

old T-shirt memories, championships

and golf tournaments, razorbacks

and soft wool sweaters mixed together.

The bed seems bigger now, a new down

cover reminding me of a new castle,

a different prince– one I could never get

to know in one lifetime, let alone one day.

But I can still sit here, quietly, observing

the nooks and crannies, allowing time to

haunt its human victim into realizing that

we can never fully know a thing, a person,

a place– so I might as well spend my life

with one man, one window, one room,

learning to love all the fuzzy details I am

lucky enough to capture.

 

happy love day!  I’ve been wanting to write a poem like this for a while, now…I’m sure I will be returning to it in the future, to tweak it here and there; but the underlying message will most likely stay the same.  I’m super open to all types of relationships that people explore and feel drawn to, and this is what feels right to me.  xo

February 13, 2016

One for Love

A gentle tap.

A slight placement

of a hand,

carefully, on my back.

Eyelids perched

on radiant,

story-layered skin.

The sound

of your kiss

like the rain;

the taste

of your breath,

a summer wind.

Your gaze

tells me you have

everything,

right here.

I trace your lips

to remind you

I am

only extra.

 

January 27, 2016

Rings

It would never have worked out anyway,

you and I.

.

Me,

a lonely tree,

still sturdy enough

to shelter you when there was rain

my own pain present in my rings–

you wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t made you ask.

.

You,

a fallen sparrow,

just looking for a place to stay

until you flew away–

your wings are meant for flying, you know.

.

Naturally,

we parted ways,

years floating by as you flew, and I grew tall–

I can see more beauty from a distance, now.

.

I stand my ground,

and sometimes look around

at the leaves I have spread,

effortlessly,

onto the earth below:

expanding pain and beauty and time

giving only wisdom back

to the soil–

they are called growth rings,

after all.

imgres.jpg

This weekend, I shared some of my work at the Nuyorican Poets Cafe in NYC.  Considering I had not planned on this at all (had only expected to listen to some spoken word) it went pretty well! The experience paired with this lovely article (http://www.elephantjournal.com/2016/01/the-mindful-life-illustrated-what-we-can-learn-from-trees/) inspired this poem…and for me to change things up and add a [google search provided] photograph.  Happy Monday! 

Carry On

Tell me

what type of wind

would have made you stay,

tempted your shallow roots to grow

and adventures to remain

silent in the mind,

considering the heart instead–

talk about vulnerability

when all you see is mastery

even a mindful soul can grow lonely

what bit of sun-dipped skin

did you need to see,

prepared to acknowledge that freedom

is free to think about

but a lifetime of hurt to know

that “fate” is just a word,

“choice” a guarantee

unlike thawed flowers in spring

you’ve uprooted–

away from my heart, from possibility

and “we” becomes “me”

I continue the journey.

 

I learn to carry on.

 

January 2, 2016