My heart desires
neither silver nor gold
only that me true love
would eternally hold

To love you is to watch my tone
To love you is to charge my phone
To love you is to quell each maybe
To love you is to FaceTime the baby
To love you is to laugh off fights
To love you is to prolong goodnights
To love you is to praise each quirk
To love you is to hide at work
To love you is to get the gist
To love you goes beyond a list

When I’m beside you
Like a warm break in the clouds
Alone I feel cold

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

Pensive Roses
are louder
than
CAPS
in
P(rose)

My ears
Get

Frayed

Time
is
an illusion,
a human construct
made
to compromise
with
schedules
or
procrastination.

Time
is what we blame
for
our shortcomings;
what we
make
responsible
for
our healings.

And
we say
that time
is priceless,

that
they can't be bought


mainly
because


they don't exist.

got to eat them as they darken
reddened ruby to black constant opal
berries will rot quickly if you don’t
or they’ll taste real gooey and wierdy
if you let the drupelets’ colors get
unsynchronized like summer and fall

...why am i telling you this?
because i learned that the hard way
and the days go away in the gleam
heavy showers and peak-a-boo sun
the east barely bracing for the storm
and the sweetness decaying like the leaves

High tides,
Low moon,
Light and water collide.

You tend to me
in a way
no one else has before,
letting me grow
anew.

Are these emotions misplaced?
Has it been present all along?
I wish we could find out
Maybe we will
Just not together

i anchor
myself
to the back
of your mind
you wish
me away
but here
i still linger

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

You don't answer
my text messages anymore,
something is wrong.

all my life
i've been preparing faces
to meet the faces that
i've met

friends
family
the man who delivers newspapers
at our doorstep each morning

i've laughed at their silly jokes
as they tossed their heads from side to side
in naive stupidity and their sheer ignorance
a pompous lot, the human race i tell you

i've acknowledged their staunch morals
and tried to make them my own
as they scorned at the girl in a skimpy dress
and chewed on mutton bones gluttonously

all my life, i've been trying hard
to blend in
with people who've shown me
that i don't belong with them

and tonight when i shed gallons of tears
i have only my bed and pillow to share
i've learnt that my sadness
is my very own

As part of my ribs, my eyes proclaim your name
Estastic rays spreads in my body
As your gazellic light show me how to write poems
You dance in my chest

Where no one sees you
Only me, sees the sight of your art
Design like clouds above
In your undying light I learn how to love

And make poems proclaim your wonder
As you throb in my heart with beautiful lust
A voice that rings in my heart
A drumsound that rises the sleeping air

And echoing deeply as I worship your portrait
Your beauty ignites peace and love in me
As I genuflect on the sacred liquid of my lips
Love me now so everyone sees you're beautiful
As the hanging sky, only me resides in you

In freedom we swim as bird in wide bed of the sky
Spreading our wings in narrow **** paradise
Where everlasting leaves house us by
That my eyes impregnate the chambers of your womb

Written by
Martin Ijir

The world was small,
but the days felt big.
They stretched out before me
like big, beautiful balloons,
just waiting to be popped.

Like a child,
sometimes I let one go;
a waste of something good,
but it sure was eerily pretty
to watch float off into the ether.

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

If you are going to tell me that
I have not cared enough
If you are going to tell me that
I have not thought enough
If you are going to tell me that
I have not loved enough
well
maybe you’re right
but I can begin
right
now
and
it
will
be
worth
waiting
for.....

boys look like boys
girls look like girls
boys look like girls
girls look like boys

people look like people

and that is all that I see

every single beautiful soul
worth living

especially the bus driver
who just flicked me off

she’s more deserving
than most.

Your touch was
e l e c t r i f y i n g

I feel it still
On my face
On my neck
On my arm
On my back

I can't even remember
What we said or
Where you touched, but
I feel it still,
And it was
e l e c t r i f y i n g —

I want to write about what hurts because I think it will
Stop me from hurting. If I put these words on
A page then they will be easier to digest.
Poetry isn't curative by creation, it is
Just confession. Still, these remedial
Lines are what I turn to when I am holding
Too much in my hands. Right now, I feel
Like I am overflowing onto the ground below me.
For the first time,
I don't want to write about what hurts. I want
To keep it inside of me and let it burn me. I want
To carry it in my palms for as long as I can.
I should write
About how we've said goodbye so
Many times that it turned into a threat, a weapon
We made with our tongues.
I should write
About how I lied and got away with it,
How you got caught with
Your hands tied and no one to blame.
I should write
About how it was over before we waved the white
Flag, and I know what it means now
To hold onto a sinking ship.
I've never had anything to die for.
I should write about how I've never wanted
Something so much that I devastated it completely.
We loved in harsh conditions, under sun and darkness and
I don't know how to write about how
The love didn't save us.
I don't write about letting go as much as I write about
Holding on, and I want
That to change.
I don't want to write hurt just to feel it.
The next poem I write about you will be
About me. About how I held on and how I let go.
It won't be about your love, it will be about
Mine. It won't stop me from hurting, but
It is how I make it out
Of my love alive.

Go where
your imperfections
are celebrated.

God creates
The colors are beautiful
I lost the hands of God
Wearing my long blue skirt
My feelings become intense
I'm a young girl
with a round face
My eyes narrow at the corners when they smile
Smiles brought about by a girl and a boy
Passing through all his smiles
Having a smell of my childhood dresses
Similar to all paintings in my drawing book
of that river
Sharp mountain
and **** crows
''I love you, God of jasmine flower''
No one knows the death of flowers
Just telling that flowers are beautiful forever
and time is the murderer
Wanting my mother's arms
Her ******* are beautiful
I smiled, knowing a pleasure
that will not be in my ****** relationship
The sky smells of death
Last night I dreamed that a flower was dead
I saw death  
Go out of my window
with white curtains
We are playing
Making songs and dancing
Humans didn't accept the dreams
''I love you so much, God of jasmine flower''
Big
Round
and beautiful
Innocent and depressed
His eyes, are
His hands will be for whom?!
Both his eyes flew
One day, all the birds in the sky will grow up
and will have no hands anymore
Your hands have two jasmine flowers
and I will taste them till the end of my life
His eyes are beautiful
I will see the sunset in whose eyes?!
Sewing all the floral white dresses of women, tender
Devoting my eyes to my mother
Giving my heart to my sister
''How much I love your eyes''
Eglantine flower has the most beautiful smiles
The sun is young for me
The God of jasmine flower is happy
A light has remained in my heart
with his leaving
I repeated it, endlessly
and keeping his soul in my heart
Now, he is a happy butterfly
has grown up
Fluttering, slowly
Sitting on all the flowers
It is happy and free
Children and rainbows always follow the butterflies
The death of each flower is not beautiful
''The God of jasmine flower''
Oh, beautiful flower !
Still wearing your childhood golden earrings?!
Your playmates calling you
among scorching summer grass
Do you hear the innocence in children's smiles?!
The jasmine's hair is long and dark
Butterflies
dancing
and gone...

خداوند می آفریند
رنگ ها زیبایند
دست های خدا را گم کردم
دامن بلند آبی ام را پوشیده ام
عواطف من زیاد شده است
دختر جوانی هستم
با صورتی پهن
چشمانی که وقتی می خندد
گوشه هایش نازک می شوند
خنده هایی که یک دختر و پسر می سازند
از میان تمام خنده هایش می گذرم
بوی پیراهن کودکی هایم را می دهد
شکل تمام نقاشی های دفترم را دارد
با آن رود
کوهی تیز
و کلاغ های زشت
''دوستت دارم خدای گل یاسمن''
...کسی مرگ گل ها را نمی داند
فقط می گویند برای همیشه زیبایند
و زمان قاتل است
آغوش مادرم را می خواهم
سینه های او زیباست
می خندم
لذتی که در رابطه ی جنسی ام نخواهم برد
آسمان بوی مرگ می دهد
دیشب خواب دیدم که یک گل مرده
مرگ را دیدم
که از پنجره ی اتاقم
با پرده های سفید بیرون رفت
بازی می کنیم
آهنگ می نوازیم و می رقصیم
انسان ها رؤیاها را نپذیرفتند
''من خیلی تو را دوست دارم خدای گل یاسمن''
چشم های او
درشت
گرد
و زیباست
معصوم و افسرده است
دست های او مال چه کسی خواهند بود!؟
تمام چشم هایش پرواز کردند
روزی تمام پرنده های آسمان بزرگ خواهند شد
و دیگر دست نخواهند داشت
دست هایت دو گل یاس دارد
''خدای گل یاسمن''
و من تا آخرعمر آن ها را خواهم چشید
چشم های او زیباست
غروب را در چشمان چه کسی خواهم دید!؟
تمام لباس های سفید گل دار زنان را لطیف دوخته ام
چشم هایم را به مادرم هدیه کنید
قلبم را به خواهرم بدهید
''چه قدر چشم های تو را دوست دارم''
زیباترین خنده ها را گل نسترن دارد
آفتاب
برایم تازه است
خدای گل یاسمن شاد است
با رفتنش
نوری در قلبم ماند
که مدام تکرارش کردم
و روحش را در قلبم نگه داشته ام
او الآن پروانه ای شاد است
بزرگ شده
که آرام بال می زند
روی تمام گل ها می نشیند
آزاد و شاد است
بچه ها و رنگین کمان ها همیشه به دنبال پروانه ها می گردند
مرگ هر گل زیبا نیست
''خدای گل یاسمن''
! ای گل زیبا
گوشواره های طلایی کودکی هایت را هنوز داری!؟
همبازی هایت
از میان چمن های داغ تابستان
صدایت می زنند
معصومیت خنده های کودکانه را می شنوی!؟
موهای یاسمن بلند و سیاه است
پروانه ها
رقصیدند
و رفته اند

You were just another mistake to learn.

at 4 in the
morning the sun
is never up
but i usually am

i worry
about things
that are out of
my control
even more about
things that are

get up early
when i work
and earlier
when i don’t
the older i get the
more i learn
sometimes you
need to cry it out

alone
at night
into your pillow
the blankets
wrapped all
around you

sometimes you
need to cry
and cry
and cry

until the morning
sun falls across
the tears dried
under your lashes

and the lump
in your throat has
dissolved so you can
breathe with ease

you need to get up
let hot water
wash it away
let the steam rising
from your mug soften
any sorrow left around
your morning eyes
take a deep breath
don’t mention it
to anyone

and
just
keep
going

i will
just
keep
going