If People Floated

If people floated
instead of walking
I would be up higher
than most buildings.

And I'd hate it.

Heart in throat,
desperately wanting to
play it safe and
breathe a little easier -
^ That'd be me. ^

Unfortunately,
that just isn't the life for me.
I live to see the world
even when it terrifies me.
Especially when it does.

I guess that settles it:

If people floated
instead of walking
I'd be soaring by the stars.

Soul on Keyboards

I write and I write
and I write and I write-
can you hear me?

Secrets are slipping through
my fingers, landing on the keys beneath,
don't worry, the letters stay put,
but my fingers are sliding
passion clouding my reason,
but I swear--
if you would just listen.

am I showing my soul?
place a world at my feet
and I will roll around in the mud
until I find the gem so full
of color that it drips
from its cracks

cracks like the ones
in my timeline, my story,
that I've created with
mistakes

ones that I've filled with gold.

Breathe

Your emotions may feel like a sandstorm, as if
your body is screaming at you
to believe that your
very existence is a crime
that the world wants wiped from it's surface-
breathe.

B r e a t h e
as if you are introducing your lungs
to air for the very first time.
Feel your chest expand with gratitude towards you,
because together you are harmonizing to create the music
of life.

When you are through
with pretending you have no grief,
it's okay.
I know those memories are heavy,
maybe you don't think you'll ever get
enough air to stretch your chest all the way out,
it's okay.
Start with small breathes and move your tummy out,
hum until you can open your mouth
to gulp down that little bit of hope that's there
because

if you can breathe
that means you are still here.
And if you are still here,
know that you will learn to
control that sandstorm.

Use up all that air and
make your voice heard.

Christmas Energy

You taught me of an energy I never knew before,
one that beats my loneliness every time it shows,
that brings me back every time I'm feeling blue.
I can reach it anytime
because the energy
is knowing that you are out there, my dear.

It's Christmas time now, as you may know.
Who can say, you might even have that holiday glow!
It's time to be grateful and give butterfly
kisses to those we love the most.

Often oversimplified as just
a month of superfluous gifts that aren't worth the fuss,
but who can forget
hands holding our own around the table,
candles lit with love and repeated tolerance of
the same jokes over and over again.

What I'm saying is, I love you so,
you are a part of that family that stays with me
over roads and mountains of distance, you are
always right next to me.


Dedicated to my friend, Corinne.

Unseen Ripples

No man behind the curtain,
I swear, please, just look at the view
(because her mind is a mess).

She bet on the rebels, dreaming
of change.
The faint lines of glory
might be fading,
but she hasn’t stopped wishing.
Don’t give up yet,
the sun hasn’t set (not yet).

Leaves in the water,
making ripples in time-
a life filled with mountains,
there are so many climbs.
Now, all that is left is the fall.

It all feels so strange,
but you can’t replicate
the time that has passed,
you just have to wait.

You’d do anything, too,
if it was your family.
That’s the funny thing,
you’d do it all over again
at the change to save them.

Leaves in the water,
making ripples in time,
a life filled with mountains
Oh, so many climbs.
All you can do now is fall.

Don't give up now,
the sun hasn’t set.
Wait three hours,
just hang on,
there’s one more hill to climb.
Once you’re there it will all be clear.
I’m supposed to say that
things happen for a reason.
And maybe that’s true.
But, it doesn’t matter in the end,
not to the little guys.
(we feel each punch).

Leaves in the water,
making ripples in time-
a life filled with mountains,
there are so many climbs.
Now, all that is left is the fall.

One breathe can make all the difference,
sadly, we don’t always get to see it.

Another love thing

I met you like a walking coincidence meets hope.
I fell for you like raindrops are doomed to in their dance with gravity.
I love you still like a bridge holds ever steady.
And I will stick by you, for whatever may come our way.

Adults

Do as I say
not as I do.
You are too young
to know anything but play.
I don’t want your questions-
*sigh* don’t ask 'cause I won't teach you how.
Go out and fly,
I’ll prepare for your downfall
and laugh from down here.

Smoking Sage

Sage smoking, the warm smell
rising into the air…

Wait, we aren’t there yet.

First, we jump in
the creek
and bob along until we get to a certain
spot on the bank.

Good thing we started a fire
because it was probably
midnight, and my hands
were turning blue.

We sit in silence
but break it with breaths of memories,
ones that will stay with us forever.

Now, we bring out the sage, I think.
It starts by surrounding
the person next to you
in good energy and
cleansing them of anything toxic;
we go in a circle.

I’m pretty sure she’s crying.
or maybe that’s me.
maybe it’s all of us.
A bunch of kids,
with electricity dancing
along our spines,
sharing pieces of…
our lives.

Something about this bond,
something about this place,

You couldn’t replicate it.
You don’t want to try,
because it wouldn’t be just right.

You need the chiming bell
and the sweet potato biscuits
and songs sung
that you haven’t heard in a year,
but perfectly.

You need those people
with hearts open to
well, everyone.

Sage smoking, the warm smell
rising into the air…

Wait, that was one night,
a lifetime ago.
One night,
one that left the feeling of rocks on my feet
and the rush of jumping off of mini-cliffs
and, well,
the energy of smoking sage.

Our Poems

The poems
that I write about you are cheesy
You are every one of those clichés,
every love song...
It was all written for us.

Happy

They tell me that it is
not a sprint,
but a
  m  a  r  a  t  h  o  n
They love to
explain
exactly
how
to
do
it.

So,
I have.
I’ve run the mile,
taken my pills,
slept like I'm supposed to,
and tapped my twice heels to come home.

Only,
I can’t remember what I’m returning to.
Did I pass the test? Am I happy, yet?

I feel something like it some days, I think?
Talked to some friends - check
Wrote a nice story - check
Read my favorite book- check
checkcheckcheck
I’m filling in the bubbles
on my scantron, colors still muted blue.

And I supposed to see something brighter?

Lifetimes

Every corner will only lead you back to the beginning.
The lines start to melt, hot wax chasing you
to face
scream after scream
of faces you want to believe-
Tell say that you are wrong.

You always are.
At some point, you might even
let the voices crawl closer,
let the scorching wax run over you.

I fought for years,
and I want to say I still am.
Days and weeks and months and years-
A
l
i
f
e
t
i
m
e
of hearing that I am
worthless.

          A lifetime
          of being told I am a sin.
                    A lifetime of knowing I will never succeed.

I fought for years,
and I want to say I still am.

Strangers will not define
my worth.
Bullies cannot know
what my God believes of me.

The only block between success
- and this person who hasn’t even lived yet- is me.

It may take a lifetime.
But, I will work for those years,
learning week in and week out
that I have power.

Day by day,
I am beginning to remember…
My soul was put on this Earth to blaze a trail with the hellfire of my Truth
to light the way for any who may need it.

A Runaway

Scuttling in the rafters,
I hear it, but don’t move
hoping to catch it by surprise.
I hold the empty page
of my worn notebook
- tattered with every thought I've ever managed to get down -
open,
ready to snap close on the idea.

This particular rascal is
running around my house
at the moment,
knocking over
meticulously stacked books and empty coffee mugs
and tearing up
every stray loose leaf
I had laying around.

“No!” I scold my poem,
her words at the tip of my tongue,
“We don’t run with knives! I repeat-”

She stops for that, but only to
wag her finger at me,
“Don’t bother writing
any words at all,
if they aren’t meant to wake someone up.”

And maybe she’s right.
If only she’d let me
write her down
on even just a napkin.

Only Some Words

“You’re sad and angry
all the time.”

“It’s what you do.”

She speaks those words
and my stomach dropped because
It might be true.

My throat swells
- my energy popped.
Where once might

have been joy,

lies only regret.

If only I could
                        count
                                 oh,
                                      just all the things
                                                                   I've heard,
that have been
said about me.

It would be quite distressing,
an awful lot of hate.

But, people, they don't know me.
It is easy to say that
and mean strangers on the street,
but you have to remember that
it just might mean your family too.

You are the only one who has
experienced all of the things,
the only one who knows of all the
stolen cookies and guilty pleasure songs,
no one can steal from you
your memories and your soul.

You are you
it is as simple as that.
They can say words,
and they will hurt,
but you are mighty
perhaps like mitochondria.

Understanding

There are things
I no longer wish to understand.

In first grade, I was teased for
bringing rice and beans when
the other kids had PB&J.
The next year we talked about
Martin Luther King Jr. and
I realized, “Mommy! I figured out what Daddy is!
He’s a black man!”
I understand that people see us differently now.

I wish I didn’t know
just how far
my sadness could go.

Knowing how easily
your heart can be broken
is something you cannot
come back from.

There was a time when
I didn’t understand trigonometry,
and I still don’t.

And, there was a time
that I never wanted to grow up…
I can’t say that has changed.

I learned to understand that
no matter what life throws at you,
you will survive.

So, You Want Me To Love You?

So, you want me to love you.
You could ask a crowd how to win me over,
but who would know, but me?

Write me a poem,
but it better be good.
I don’t want what’s been said,
or anything to dread.

Can you play the guitar?
Oh, the lines you could sing!
That certainly deserves a bronze star.

Will you kiss me so softly?
like no one before?
Please, it’s not costly, what I might ask for.

Please, just one rule is sure,
don’t bother asking anyone else
before me.

If you want me to love you,
and if you believe in true love,
then I’ll call us a taxi if you’ll show.

Love poem (to no one)

I could say you look like flowers
and smell like a masterpiece
but that's all been said before.
I want you to feel special
like no love has ever existed before you
because it's true.
You are lovelier than even the
softest petal of any rose
for no creases diminish your beauty
You smell like fresh baked cookies
that only your mom can make-
like home.
I could say the same clichés over and over -

but no words come close to
describing that you make me feel
like my every hair is on fire with a
feeling of right.

Merely Reading

Who lets there couch cushion their fall
on rainy days?
When water darts across the street,
full of secrets,
slick with misery.

                                        Curl into yourself.
                                Let the musty aroma
                                overwhelm you
                        fogging up your noes
                 letting your mind
        fill with words
your body floating to never land.

Merely reading to read isn´t reading.
Live in the faraway lands -
live to shake hands with those who hold the key.

Perhaps,
winds will smack against your face as you run, run away,
your dress mocking the sun with its colors flowing around your waist.
Watch out.
There cries a silent hand, a plea for forgiveness.
The weight of the decision you don't have to make.

Where you are:
it is just a rainy day.
If only this feeling could stick.

Being Enchanted

the feeling after the last page
fuzziness where well-defined edges may have once been
think, yellow stars
not quite walking, not quite floating

You aren't always aware-
in the moment-
that you are being enchanted.

Magic is being transferred,
everyone deserves a slice.

magic is knowing that loves can crash
because there is one out there, yet
magic is believing in yourself.
magic pushes you

that first page will wait for you again.
Read again. Try again. Dream

Because of You

Rising up because
of the heat filling your chest—
Rising up because
Notice me.
Rising up to
better stand to see you.
I want to know
what your eyes are seeing.

What words do you read?
Which sunsets have you watched?
Are you seeing me?

Rising up because
my body cannot seem
to contain this feeling.
Rising up.

Aye, Aye Captain

I’m sick of waiting, okay?
I don’t need a prince with greasy armor, or whatever.

Forget the prince, I am a Captain.
These may be uncharted waters,
but how else do you learn to sail?

It requires patience,
long-term planning,
impulsive decisions,
and maybe a dramatic spin of the steering wheel.

Only a Captain knows their ship
the best, and the true ones
never stop learning.
Whoa! Look, I mended that

splintering plank. Now,
no one will step on it.

I journey to help others,
but, also, because it is the only way to
stay afloat.

That is all you need to do.
Stay afloat, please?

Universal Traveler

I'm looking at my bookshelf
thinking of all the places
I could be.

Just How Broken?

Sometimes you don't know
how broken you are until you try
to piece yourself back together.

BandAids unstick.
Dreams are forgotten,
plans were rewritten.

20 Words

It is simple, really, to leave a long lasting mark on this world because you will always have one thing.
Tens of thousands of years, and more than that of inconspicuous little things that have no real value alone.
Now, these things are curious, in the way they are set in stone, yet sometimes change without warning.
You may find yourself bonding with them in a completely abstract manner that haunts for the better.
I would like you to consider learning about them in depth just to grasp it all.

Physical remnants can be left, of course, but I encourage acknowledging the ripples you make.
The possibility of imprinting on someone else’s experience should be regarded with sincere care.
You may not yet understand my message so I would like to reiterate.

To leave your strongest mark you must understand each of them individually.

Wait. Noted, alone, they can give certain amounts of moldable information.

Just don’t forget that your real power here is design.
So many possibilities await because you become a magician.
Thought altering spells, but what are your goals?
Witches, who turn petty tyrants into frogs?

I hope you make it right.
This place that hates truth.

If you just look.
Find your Light.
Scream it.
Words.

Gender

It's complicated.
Expand your views and watch as
your world overflows.


#haiku #unapologetic

Realize

You never know what you have
until you lose it.
And I am not sure I ever understood that
before.

Depression can ride on your heels
until you believe,
believe with all that you have,
that you have nothing.

But, are you forgetting your speech?
Try not having it.

You have your focus.
The ability to hone in on
your work.

Walking feels
silly to note,
but be grateful
for every step you
can take without thinking.
            I did not lose my ability
            forever, but every day
            is still a battle against the possibility.
Realize you walk with ease,
no panicked moments if you forget something in the next room.
Realize you walk with every part of your foot.

It's funny. These words don't come
from a place of deep thought;
they are just ankles.
But, I didn't know we had a midfoot.
I didn't know they would become so vital.
So painful.

Lose your freedom,
you'll hate yourself
for not seeing it sooner.

Notice the things you have.
Not for guilt.
To note.
To respect. Feel grateful.

I will be here,
dreaming of standing on
that mountain ridge,
one day.

Friendships Suck

It can suck.
Friendships, I mean.
Not in the way you think.

All consuming.
That is what it is
because
you end up loving
this human-
this beautiful, flawed,
exceptional, part of the universe-
and it is all that you are.

You want to hear them laugh
always.
You crave their smile and
their face, no matter its state.

It sucks because
no matter what you do,
they can still get hurt.
And when they cry,
you sob,
when they whimper,
you scream.

No love can quite
match friendships.

And
unbeknownst to popular opinion,
they are not built
on time, but experiences.
She saw you at your worst
and came back.
She gathered up old photos,
to remind you that good times exist.

And it reminds me, that with her,
they always will.

So, yeah, friendships
suck.
They give you an addiction,
problems you can’t fix,
and so much love you might just
have trouble holding on to all
your other pieces together.

And it is all worth it.
The fear, pain, vulnerability…
You’d loop it infinitely

if you could.

The Idea

Nothing to note.

A day where the wind

still blows.

They were calling-

all of my pieces,

Heartbreak was

in Love.

You’re not

I sang, and before

they could shame my

quick reply, I said

You’re in love with the

idea of the Perfect Match.

Uninterrupted strolls

along shores of

it does not matter, as long as

it never rains.

I know you miss the warmth,

not of the hugs,

but of the hope that

One day you will be okay.

____________________
(My poem was inspired by “1018-1019” by Fujiwara no Tameie)

.

I get that you don’t get it.

There being such a constant need for

a pen and paper,

to always be nearby

and one that can only be satisfied by such.

An itch for written words.

You know, I actually feel tightness in my chest,

my ears get hot,

and nothing else is worth my focus.

A few words a day maybe.

But, I’m an optimist,

a seeker of the novel

I know is within me.

So, I carry around this damn laptop.

And my notebook.

And a smaller one.

And my phone for voice notes.

And I dream.

You used to tell me to,

every night.

Remember?

You made it seem like

dreams are all that matter

in a world where

things didn’t make sense yet.

You didn’t tell me that they never really would.

I get that you don’t get me.

-          Looking At You, Dad

Dry Saddness

Sometimes there are
No tears.
My face is dry.
I am all dried up. There is just
nothing inside.
I stare.
At what?
There is nothing
left inside
to even hold onto the reality of what's outside.