At 10:17 pm last Tuesday night
I fell asleep wondering
how many people also looked at their clocks
at 10:17 pm
and kept the number in their minds
for a moment
and gave it a brief value
received from them by no other time
that day.
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 12:36 AM UTC
There are some days
that the world is not only
too large
but too full
for me
and I not only with I could
but I desperately plead and long to
sit in an empty, sunny
field in Italy
far from the thought of another
human on not only what would then be
my soil, my land
but on Earth itself
and read poetry
because poetry is all that matters
when there is no one else
around.
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
Tears
are always knocking on the door of
my sweet, sun-filled study
in which I find nothing to do
but make busy-work of
pretending I can see with both eyes.
The knock
is that of a relative,
the kind that startles you
the kind that scares you even though
you know who's there,
you just don't know their temper
you just don't know the
urgency of the situation
and after you remember who's
coming in
your gut tells you to turn off the lights and
say you're asleep.
In this situation
there is always a key under
the door
between the outside and the inside
between the blue and the yellow
a flood lets itself in
and my hands become water
and I wash my face
mixing the inside and the outside
mixing the yellow and the blue
because they're the same anyway.
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 12:30 AM UTC
You jumped in play
I jumped in fear
We stuttered to say
"Why am I here?"
I tried to explain
I wasn't clear
You turned away
I disappeared
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 9:18 PM UTC
Why must the show go on?
Why can't we just fast-forward?
Rewind?
Pause?
I find myself stuck,
waiting,
worrying.
Still, I'm just realizing
that this is how it is
And I'm just supposed to deal with it?
Like a deck of cards!
A set of poker chips!
Tell me.
why?
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 12:25 AM UTC
¼ of my friends is
Willing to think
Willing to ask
Willing to share
Willing to listen
Willing to initiate
Willing to congratulate
¼ of my friends
Is always there
Always cares
About your mountain to climb
And what you’re going to wear
She’s all you could ask for
she's even more
And she’s 1 out of 4
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC
Do you ever become an adult
and the little things get
drowned in the work,
the responsibility,
the fear
and you know that
again
you're burning out?
But then,
suddenly,
you
remember
nostalgia hits!
the warm fuzzies
drown the work,
the responsibility,
the fear
that one thing
it's back
you try
you try to hold on
in the middle of success
it fades
you know it's slipping out of your hands
out of reach
you know
it's gone
it was an illusion all along
you've grown up
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 12:16 AM UTC
In the dead of Décembre¹, resided an elegant Accentor² dressed in all the hues of a fresh pumpkin. His rotund chest of tangerine could be spotted instantly among the frost laden branches of his bark-made household.
Throughout harvest, his henna back was effortlessly disguised amidst the fallen leaves of autumn. He was often found solemnly reviewing the state of the abundant acorns while the slight breeze lifted his earnest feathers.
Across warm season, his amber spots shined as radiantly as the sun when he floated to a near pond for a drink. The abounding dragonflies derived delight from boastfully gliding to and fro above the glittering water. Warmth lingered in the limelight as long as it could.
Along the cherry blossoms of spring, the top of his emerald head often appeared in a scene of expected triumph once he took in his mouth a bit less than the recommended daily dose of crimson berries left in the grass from winter.
_________________________________________________________________
Décembre: December
Accentor: a type of small bird in the genus Prunella
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 11:45 PM UTC
You say a few words
I get it
I notice those things
they give me fear and hope
and only give you fear
I know you're always put in the back
in the dark
you don't ask for light
And I don't really know why
but I do
I ask for answers
optional, of course
You are always generous
always willing
why give
and regret?
Is it really regret?
after your scars spill
you tell me you wish you never let them
I know you
and I don't
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 11:35 PM UTC