dilectus - Hello Poetry

I like to run my fingers over the bridge of your nose That bridge leads to your home And I'm at the door I'm more in love with you than I know how to say How to write How to love you without limits You are a joy You are one hundred joys Swimming in my chest Rocks skipping on a pond You are birds singing on rays of sunlight You are a meal cooked by mom And my life is full with you in it Like the seeds in the center of sunflowers Fish in an aquarium Children out at recess You are so much fun An endless discovery One hundred joys Swimming in my chest a divine kind of unrest My body spells I love you I love you

0

Mar 30, 2017

Mar 30, 2017 at 3:50 AM UTC

dilectus

One Hundred Joys

I like to run my fingers over the bridge of your nose That bridge leads to your home And I'm at the door I'm more in love with you than I know how to say How to write How to love you without limits You are a joy You are one hundred joys Swimming in my chest Rocks skipping on a pond You are birds singing on rays of sunlight You are a meal cooked by mom And my life is full with you in it Like the seeds in the center of sunflowers Fish in an aquarium Children out at recess You are so much fun An endless discovery One hundred joys Swimming in my chest a divine kind of unrest My body spells I love you I love you

23

me, a tiny moth i'm unsettled i'm scattered and i don't know which light is the right one i'm not the person i knew or the person i want to me i feel like a blueprint folded into origami and i don't know how to be useful i've been taking magazine clippings like little bits of stolen wool i've been keeping them in a book making pictures of the parts and i don't know where my heart is i don't know what i want from the bulb

0

Sep 21, 2015

Sep 21, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC

dilectus

stolen bits of wool.

me, a tiny moth i'm unsettled i'm scattered and i don't know which light is the right one i'm not the person i knew or the person i want to me i feel like a blueprint folded into origami and i don't know how to be useful i've been taking magazine clippings like little bits of stolen wool i've been keeping them in a book making pictures of the parts and i don't know where my heart is i don't know what i want from the bulb

14

i am so tired, but so not tired. i have grown tired of it. i am walking away from sharpness sliding into an embrace there's no time for hardness i dreamt i was a sunflower of forgiveness i'm following my dreams i'm bending cliches i don't give a **** i am so tired, but so not tired i am ready im quitting im starting im running back to you away from it again try again go don't forget rest comes remember rest comes.

0

Jan 2, 2015

Jan 2, 2015 at 2:39 AM UTC

dilectus

two minute poem.

i am so tired, but so not tired. i have grown tired of it. i am walking away from sharpness sliding into an embrace there's no time for hardness i dreamt i was a sunflower of forgiveness i'm following my dreams i'm bending cliches i don't give a **** i am so tired, but so not tired i am ready im quitting im starting im running back to you away from it again try again go don't forget rest comes remember rest comes.

22

chew over the words we scrambled like eggs messy in the pan and sticky like feelings we named with firecrackers in the winter the sun moves slower i think my eyes think like grandmothers a hazy hindsight reading in a dim light find a vase and break it make a collage with its pieces spill over stain the knees of your jeans i'm looking at a star i'm looking for truth i'm holding onto the hand thats holding on to you i love you i love him more i love you and he loves you more

0

Dec 21, 2014

Dec 21, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC

dilectus

breakfast

chew over the words we scrambled like eggs messy in the pan and sticky like feelings we named with firecrackers in the winter the sun moves slower i think my eyes think like grandmothers a hazy hindsight reading in a dim light find a vase and break it make a collage with its pieces spill over stain the knees of your jeans i'm looking at a star i'm looking for truth i'm holding onto the hand thats holding on to you i love you i love him more i love you and he loves you more

18

there are three sounds filling my ear you hear two there are five circles 'round your head you know one you are so much all inside this figure this figure that dances-waltzes in attentive carelessness teach me how- how to hear just the beat and your breath down- helicopter chopping my composure up- your hand leading my hip, your finger lifting my chin up- eyes steady on each other down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up. you've always called me a better dancer, maybe the better dancer would know it's all about the moment you live there so well show me how to not be swept up by worries- what might be. teach me not to get my toes in a tangle guide me by those even breaths... down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up. down.

0

Oct 9, 2014

Oct 9, 2014 at 12:18 PM UTC

dilectus

we'll learn together; waltz

there are three sounds filling my ear you hear two there are five circles 'round your head you know one you are so much all inside this figure this figure that dances-waltzes in attentive carelessness teach me how- how to hear just the beat and your breath down- helicopter chopping my composure up- your hand leading my hip, your finger lifting my chin up- eyes steady on each other down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up. you've always called me a better dancer, maybe the better dancer would know it's all about the moment you live there so well show me how to not be swept up by worries- what might be. teach me not to get my toes in a tangle guide me by those even breaths... down, up-up. down, up-up. down, up-up. down.

20

from balconies the color of butter, i write apology letters stained in leaky love on paper wrappers of water drinking glasses the pen marks are light all the lines run over. I am watching myself from two years prior, trying to find a minute to break the ice and break it to myself that i have missed some of the points and some of priorities have been placed out of order like all the letters we scramble endlessly until there is one less tile, and one less hello, one more goodbye and two more 'i don't knows' i'm stopping the signal for a little while, there are eight peaches rolling down a hill and i've been watching for the cross walk where almost all of them are stopped (in the inside show of children they pick them up like baseballs and they laugh so full thunder couldn't shake them, they climbed so high the balconies made friends with them.)

0

Jun 10, 2014

Jun 10, 2014 at 1:39 AM UTC

dilectus

I want to try peaches for the second time.

from balconies the color of butter, i write apology letters stained in leaky love on paper wrappers of water drinking glasses the pen marks are light all the lines run over. I am watching myself from two years prior, trying to find a minute to break the ice and break it to myself that i have missed some of the points and some of priorities have been placed out of order like all the letters we scramble endlessly until there is one less tile, and one less hello, one more goodbye and two more 'i don't knows' i'm stopping the signal for a little while, there are eight peaches rolling down a hill and i've been watching for the cross walk where almost all of them are stopped (in the inside show of children they pick them up like baseballs and they laugh so full thunder couldn't shake them, they climbed so high the balconies made friends with them.)

29

we are drawing circles in the sand trying to make sense of the birds that flutter in our heads. like those sandbox cities we used to live in, we are all fine grained and we all jump rope, hoping to jump just high enough, hoping to laugh, freely in the company of swinging ponytails, eager like the boy to just learned how to snap. show me all the stones you hold in your hand, tell me the stories that come with them. let's chase hummingbirds; let's run slowly. wind 'round this back line dirt trail. out of illusion, into harmony; hum with me. i like the messy songs we make- hide these folded letters in your socks. we could run on words, you know. we could run on words.

0

Apr 21, 2014

Apr 21, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC

dilectus

we could run on words.

we are drawing circles in the sand trying to make sense of the birds that flutter in our heads. like those sandbox cities we used to live in, we are all fine grained and we all jump rope, hoping to jump just high enough, hoping to laugh, freely in the company of swinging ponytails, eager like the boy to just learned how to snap. show me all the stones you hold in your hand, tell me the stories that come with them. let's chase hummingbirds; let's run slowly. wind 'round this back line dirt trail. out of illusion, into harmony; hum with me. i like the messy songs we make- hide these folded letters in your socks. we could run on words, you know. we could run on words.

22

some days are spent writing poetry and others are a sum of passed hours that you wished you could remember what words were for and the person you used to be before the fear set in before you learned how to spell disappointment some times i lay in the field and try to replay those nameless songs we all sang during childhood some times i can hear a few lines there is a tune i learned only a year ago that has you in every chord i think i listen to it too often maybe not often enough decisions look like a candle's flame and i don't know how to still a subject last tuesday i might have felt at peace but then i thought i saw another piece of the puzzle so i started to rescramble the letters you said that i look brighter lately but you haven't seen me in days i'm having trouble keeping my bulbs clean i'm having trouble seeing where this is going i can hear you in that silly piano theme saying something like 'you never really have to worry you only have to watch' some days i like to see the rainstorms but some of the time the wind is too loud some days i think i can only be myself sometimes but you never thought that was true

0

Apr 5, 2014

Apr 5, 2014 at 5:41 PM UTC

dilectus

wipe the dirt off the light bulbs.

some days are spent writing poetry and others are a sum of passed hours that you wished you could remember what words were for and the person you used to be before the fear set in before you learned how to spell disappointment some times i lay in the field and try to replay those nameless songs we all sang during childhood some times i can hear a few lines there is a tune i learned only a year ago that has you in every chord i think i listen to it too often maybe not often enough decisions look like a candle's flame and i don't know how to still a subject last tuesday i might have felt at peace but then i thought i saw another piece of the puzzle so i started to rescramble the letters you said that i look brighter lately but you haven't seen me in days i'm having trouble keeping my bulbs clean i'm having trouble seeing where this is going i can hear you in that silly piano theme saying something like 'you never really have to worry you only have to watch' some days i like to see the rainstorms but some of the time the wind is too loud some days i think i can only be myself sometimes but you never thought that was true

30

i’m glad. i’m sorry. me too. i’ve known. i didn’t. you don’t have to. maybe I shouldn’t-

0

Mar 3, 2014

Mar 3, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC

dilectus

unwarranted responses to questions that weren't asked.

i’m glad. i’m sorry. me too. i’ve known. i didn’t. you don’t have to. maybe I shouldn’t-

7

stand with me on the outskirts of terranea watch the waves mount higher and higher like the passion of a crowd, crying out at indignation watch the moon get brighter let's sing the crescendo con anima let's mean every word write poetry along my veins spell conviction with your soul i want your toes to dance sincerity and i want mine to know the same rhythm walk two steps into the shore line and hold my hand let's let our socks turn heavy with water and our feet sink into the sand they say "grow where you're planted" we'll show them how to grow under waves stand with your back straight follow my eyes down the anciently paved roads across letters stamped with dust i stretch out my hand with the intention of holding what is there whatever scars and ***** fingernails im searching for a pulse your pulse im counting breaths for our turn to jump swim kick out your feet and grab water like stone don't wait for me we are both moving across the same line follow the stream of the moon know that we both reflect too you, me and i, you we have forgotten fear we have made bridges with ideas we have sang choruses in harmony stand with me on the outskirts of terranea in space that you can not see anymore we will be there together make your feet sore with walking we are both going to the same places.

0

Feb 10, 2014

Feb 10, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC

dilectus

earnest.

stand with me on the outskirts of terranea watch the waves mount higher and higher like the passion of a crowd, crying out at indignation watch the moon get brighter let's sing the crescendo con anima let's mean every word write poetry along my veins spell conviction with your soul i want your toes to dance sincerity and i want mine to know the same rhythm walk two steps into the shore line and hold my hand let's let our socks turn heavy with water and our feet sink into the sand they say "grow where you're planted" we'll show them how to grow under waves stand with your back straight follow my eyes down the anciently paved roads across letters stamped with dust i stretch out my hand with the intention of holding what is there whatever scars and ***** fingernails im searching for a pulse your pulse im counting breaths for our turn to jump swim kick out your feet and grab water like stone don't wait for me we are both moving across the same line follow the stream of the moon know that we both reflect too you, me and i, you we have forgotten fear we have made bridges with ideas we have sang choruses in harmony stand with me on the outskirts of terranea in space that you can not see anymore we will be there together make your feet sore with walking we are both going to the same places.

40