our typed up words hide emotions unseen
where sound can give a taste of truth
and even postcards can reveal
the tangles of the century and it's related loves
of technology's soft whispers
of clicking keys and computer buzz
in those ones and zeros that hold us close to heart
the miles are still real, seemingly we'll part
another buzz another ring another taste of you
but can these magical machines bring
me more than just the best of you
I want to hear the stutter when you're nervous and can't speak,
the whisper's of the secrets of what we'll do next week,
I want to see your hair disheveled when you get up out of bed
the slight portliness of figure like the bearded fella wearing a suit of red
I want to taste the treats of the dishes that I've seen
and of course
I want to taste your lips
carrying the flavors of cigar and wine
See the the glimmer in your eye
When some little excitement passes by
And hear loquacious diatribes as to gladly chime on in
starting from your normal dinner topics to our lives of sin
But all those ones and zero... and our miles still remain
hopes of this togetherness from which my brain
can not refrain
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:07 PM UTC
Naturally her hair is always up
when she catches you sneaking a glance
she pulls out her hair tie with a tug
her hair falls all over her back and chest
framing her tanned face
her hair is deep chestnut brown with accents of caramel
but when she moves into the sunlight it glimmers a gentle auburn
her eyes glisten curious from the attention she gets
the bright green orbs with speckles and a ring of hazel brown
seem to get bigger as she stares back
her curls bounce as she completely turns to you
her face glowing with a perfect contentment
her cheeks flustered with a light pink blush
and her lips a faded red except the cherry red spot
where she keeps on biting her lip
as you savor her every bit
the long jet black lashes
her playful smile
you realize she already turned around
stealing your chance to take in her allure
her curls calmly rest on her back
oblivious to her enchantment of you
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 8:02 PM UTC
I notice you from afar
and as I glance to you and away
repeating until our eyes meet
There is nothing between us
but I feel a buzz a burn
your eyes follow me
as we move close
I see you undress me with your eyes
that's how our friendship is
built on a lust veiled in lies
as the niceties ensue
you press me closer yet to you
and all that's on my mind
is no greeting that I give
or answers to "how do I do?"
but fantasies of past
forgotten in the midst of
everything that curtly ended
we briefly know to talk
to give each other space
but those feeling will not erase
the tingle in my spine
the warmth from my inside
from there we continue on
I wondering what went wrong
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 6:48 AM UTC
Today I am superwoman,
I go to three jobs, one meeting, two classes
I wear five hats throughout the day.
I got those lovely eyebags as my trophy.
By being superwoman I accomplish anything,
everything that they told me I couldn't do.
I wanted to be in student government...
the popularity vote told me no but I showed them
I could do that too. They said you can't have everything
and here I am sitting with it all.
In this day of superpowers
I fly from class to job to job to job to meeting to home
but I am the most human today.
I laugh in the face of my fears of failure because I have already gotten on the road to success.
I cry because even I am entitled to a good cry every once in a while.
I am cranky because it evens out the crazy bubblyness that I always am.
I radiate happiness although I am drowning in work
I support and lean on those around me causing a tangled connection of love
In every capacity I am me, happy, sad, lethargic, energized, hyper, lost, leading.
In every Wednesday, I remember that my humanity all in itself makes me just as super human as the next girl or guy.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 2:59 AM UTC
in the light we only converse
politely laughing at each others conversation
letting our feet wander into each others
you a boy and i a girl
in these light and cheery moments no one notices ,that you
and i are fundamentally different
nothing brought up about upbringing or perspective
religion or family
as i turn my face away from yours i see the weaknesses
that our playful conversations entail,
our differences
the ones that cause discord in harmony
and both of our inabilities to bend
there i am left in contemplation
does this time spend on daylight conversation
have any meaning
than to extend the night time exploration
Because in the night You are open with Me
when You sit next to me You sit close
not shying away from
the Eyes of the Night Sky
Not afraid to Break Taboo
To Kiss
To Hold
To Have
but the exploration goes back to contemplation
as i see you less at night and more in the day
I revel in sunshine, light
but when I revel in You I revel in Night
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC
sleep with me through the night
I on your bed and you on the floor
keep me safe by knowing I'm right there
within reach, safe under your sleepy gaze
entwine your hands with mine
when everyone in the world is lost
to you to me to humanity to power
let me become a part of your fears
knowing that seeing me hurt is the
greater pain that our love can thrive
in darkness in fear in hate and from this
comes the beauty of our pure love to live
and let love to have and to hold forever and
a day
love me to let me go
love me so I know
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
sometimes... when you let go all the pieces fall into place
we need the clarity of thought to bring us back to our own perfection
and for the ride as you let go you enjoy yourself more
let go of your fears your insecurities
let go of stigma and what others may thing
let go of life itself
in order to be brave to be beyond beautiful
to be above social conventions and norms
in order to grasp on to life with a tighter understanding
Letting go was the best idea I gave myself
and with letting go its time to let go of this as well
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 3:23 AM UTC
Later someone told me my poetry should be read aloud
with the feelings that I want to be heard
that my poetry should be spoken word
spoken truth
spoken loud
It was about my struggle
although mine are quite small
a white girl in white bread world
middle class family
stuck in the middle of two cultures
some image issues
some insecurities
being taught to be subservient
and quiet
Now my poetry speaks for itself it speaks with my voice
with my will and with my wanting
it speaks of the boys I like that I will tell I like them
it speaks of the dresses I will still wear even though they make me look ****
it speaks of the self defense classes I will take so I can proudly walk in the night with no fear
it speaks of the career that I will have in medicine
it speaks of the kids that I will raise simultaneously
it speaks to the world that I am me
as my struggles feelings emotions become personal
the words disappear
quiet only when I want them to be
because I am giving you
my spoken words
my spoken feelings
my spoken truth
my spoken life
and keeping a part of me for me
even while I'm speaking loud
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 11:13 PM UTC
As a child I was taught poetry
the quiet writing of feelings reflections
often in a beat with a rhyme and a few examples of alliteration
I was taught that as a woman my feelings
should be hid and kept quiet
that when I liked a boy it was not my place
to ask him whether he liked me back
I was taught to look out for myself by not dressing slutty
not walking home late at night
I was taught that my curvy figure would make people
question my morals my virginity my character
I was taught that as a girl I won't be as successful in math or science
I was taught to give myself to other pursuits
in liberal arts or domestic dealings
I was taught that even if by some miracle I found success in the fields where I "wouldn't be successful"
that I would and should give it up in a heart beat to raise a family
I was taught that I must share my feelings
my emotions my struggles
but not in a loud and open way
I had to remain quiet cool composed
Poetry was to be my outlet, written in couplets sonnets and verse
quiet and held inside written on paper
stored away from the world
to be read inside the mind
by others- men, teachers, parents
in order to decode me
and learn how to
keep
me
silent
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
I picked up a wine glass
not because you told me to
I just had to
pick one up to get back at you
you picked up a wine bottle
but that's not for me
as a lady I must stay classy
I sit here waiting for you
to tell me you want me
I sit here sipping my wine
hoping you will call on me this time
it takes me a few drops to be drunk
drunk off of my feeling
drunk to my core
drunk on
lust
care
want
chasing a silly little dream of you
taking care of me
as i sip my
bordeaux blanc
taking care of myself
in the harsh reality that is my life
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 4:55 AM UTC