* Farwell Announcement *

One notebook. One summer. One kid deciding they were going to be a poet. I don’t know if I’ll ever find that legendary notebook, but the poems are here, on this blog. And while I can’t be certain I wouldn’t have become a writer without this beginning, I know it helped me become the writer I am today.

As a writer, I will never stop writing. However, I may move around. Yes, this is my over-dramatic is my way of saying I have a new blog.

because words will have my poetry, as I had here, as well as musings and reviews as I had on my other blog, A Smack Of Everything, which I am also shutting down. I am not deleting anything, but I will only be updating my new website from here on out.

In the eight years between the first poem my mom helped me publish on October 8th, 2012, “Mother,” and the one I didn’t realize would be my last, “Love Speaks” on January 9th, 2021, I have published 258 poems. That's a lot, I think. And I don’t care if they are any good- I am proud of myself.

I am excited to see what I come up with next, what I find, and what I learn.

I’ve already gotten started, so be sure to check it out:
https://becausewords.wixsite.com/becausewords

Love Speaks

We read it in their eyes, see it in their embrace, feel it in their tears that can't be brushed away fast enough- love is something we all understand that we will never understand.

Trying to answer the question: what is the common language of the world?

(to have loved)

there's beauty in the way

we love people and we lose people

and how we sometimes get them back again 

there's tenderness in the way

they come and they go

how they unravel memories from our souls when they leave

but I don't see tragedy

(to have loved)

words align (4)

sweet friend recall always

the honey and storm

in their cry(s) [sic]

you are the sea I am but a dream

lust bitter on her tongue

smear(ed) blood a language they scream

ache(s) whisper(ed)

frantic worship

Magnetic Poetry Kit: Original Edition

"grandmothers"

me: grandmothers are the best of us

friend: I hate missing her
friend: but I love loving her

me: we are better having been loved by them 

- my friend and I

sometime in November 2020

who said cheaters never win

cheaters never win
but what does that matter if winning 
isn't the point of the game?

(there is no tally at the end)

cheaters never win
unless winning means hurting the most people

unless winning means causing the most damage

before you're playing an entirely new game

(they've toppled empires this way)

cheaters never win
but they can still reap the rewards
and for some, that is more than enough

you can't beat cheaters by playing by the rules

but if you become like them, what have you won?

cheaters never win

but everyone else can still lose

Icarus was a star that almost touched another star

flying too close to the sun

he was a dreamer, as am I

he dreamt too loudly, shown too bright

but he lived

he had a dream and molded wax until

it came true

before he died, he lived

as he dreamed, so do I

destined to be Icarus

perhaps I am destined to be Icarus
perhaps I am destined to crash and burn
but, oh, what a gift his
last moments in the sky
must have been

I don't mean to sound cliché

we get (too) close
knots of attachment
tighten (like a noose)
expectations (and big questions)
pile up (fragile like Icarus)

we pull away 

and end up flat on our asses

"in every book"

In every book I pick up,
I'm reading
"let us not conclude"

- my grandmother

10/22/2020

happy halloween

it's dreadful, really

to learn that the real monsters

were inside us all along

all that ever comes to mind

Note: This is the 250th poem I have published.

I have four little cousins, small children with

big questions, they've asked me

"why are people always so mean?" 

and all that ever comes to mind

are things I don't want them to know

I want to tell them to stay like they are

just that like, don't get older, 

keep asking questions and never give up

at 8, they have yet to

watch a political debate or

read about people arguing 

over their right to live free

in a nation that champions freedom

they haven't

gotten sick of screaming

into the thankless void of emptiness at 

the end of each and every day

I want to tell them that it gets better

that the world is less scary from up here

but 10 years ahead of them and I still don't know 

the right answer or the right prayer

meanness becomes cruelty

there are never any guarantees

anyone can cut the rope

and let loose the guillotine

I want to tell them to have hope

that life is more good than bad

I want them to believe that

cheaters never win and winners never cheat

that superheroes look just like you and me

but who am I to lie to them?

it's not their fault that when they ask me

"why are people always so mean?"

all that ever comes to mind 

are things I don't want them to know

we are pirates

thick as thieves

we are pirates 

sailing the seven seas

searching far and wide for 

new dreams

Heartstrings

because our heartstrings have been tied together 

since the first time we wore friendship bracelets

until our wishes came true,

since you sat next to me

and I sat next to you

soon we were reading books as thick as the lake

we skated on every Saturday

if our whole lives were filmed

those are the hours I'd ask to replay

because our heartstrings have been tied together 

since the Christmas you discovered boys

and I still saw things that made too much noise,

since that day we went flying like two rolled dice

remember that? we "both" slipped on the ice

my house was next to yours

and your house was next to mine

we'd sing our lungs out, you and I,

it was our own battle cry

because our heartstrings have been tied together

since our monsters had no faces

before we met the girls with two,

since monsters lived underneath our beds

and couldn't climb inside our heads

we may bend

but we never break

we may stretch

but we always snap back into place

because our heartstrings have been tied together

since our first real fight, the one I still think about sometimes,

since we both made a wish, that chilly September,

to be in each other's hearts forever

she’s so pretty / it hurts

(she’s so pretty / it hurts)

she has a string between her lips
a hook in my heart
she tugs and it's the kind of pain that hurts so good

I wouldn’t mind if she pushed the hook in deeper
I wouldn’t mind if she stepped in closer
I don't mind that she holds my heart in her hands

(because she’s so pretty / it hurts)

I try to count the brush strokes I'd need

to paint the magic she leaves behind every careful, carefree step

to paint the wisdom in her words

to paint the unspeakable things her smile has endured

I’d paint a mural on the side of my house

and above the lips that leave magic on mine

I’d paint that

"she’s so pretty / it hurts"

when we say Black Lives Matter

when we say Black Lives Matter

we are saying three words

that carry the weight of hundreds of years 

of pain and oppression

of strength and perseverance

between them

when we say Black Lives Matter

we are recognizing a dark history

too often covered up

and forcing it into the light

a history we can choose to stop repeating

but only if we fight for a better future

when we say Black Lives Matter

we are saying that black people

deserve respect, safety, and love

that they are needed, beautiful, and valued

that they are worth protecting

and admitting that we haven't always protected them

"Red"

Red is a powerful color.
I like wearing it,
especially on Monday.

- my grandmother

9/20/2020

upgrade, mirror, revelation

One reason I wanted a nicer wheelchair,
one of many, the smallest reason really,

is that in a basic chair with my leg up, 

it looks temporary

and that leads to misunderstandings.

"Poor thing, you broke your leg."

No. I obliterated my leg three years ago.

There's a difference.

This isn't temporary.

In front of me: a full-length mirror.

My elbows on the armrests.

I look at myself and thought

"I am a kid in 

a (real) wheelchair

and will be, off and on,

for the rest of my life."

And that's all it took,

an upgrade and a big mirror for

a revelation.

About time, I suppose.

Caught By Time

Paused.

sea glass in the sun

a place

a breath

out of time

feel the roar

the rhythm

hear the voices of 

souls lost to the ocean

so long ago it has become

their home

sink your toes into the sand

dig your fingers in

brace yourself

the cold will hit

and it will shock your

system to its core

it will run fingers

you can't catch

along your skin

to say hello

the only way it can

water

liquid ice

caught by time

for a moment

Paused.

Photo source uncertain due to the abundance of reposts. I believe it was originally uploaded by @pennyyfanee on Tumblr years ago. I found it reposted to Instagram with comments on @bosoftumblr.

"I have all these things"

I have all these things
sitting there
waiting to be read.

- my grandmother

8/27/2020