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  Aug 2019 Jaqualan
Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
  Aug 2019 Jaqualan
Maya Angelou
They have spent their
content of simpering,
holding their lips this
and that way, winding
the lines between
their brows. Old folks
allow their bellies to jiggle like slow
tamborines.
The hollers
rise up and spill
over any way they want.
When old folks laugh, they free the world.
They turn slowly, slyly knowing
the best and the worst
of remembering.
Saliva glistens in
the corners of their mouths,
their heads wobble
on brittle necks, but
their laps
are filled with memories.
When old folks laugh, they consider the promise
of dear painless death, and generously
forgive life for happening
to them.
  Jul 2019 Jaqualan
LS
when a poet falls in love with you
you can never die
they will notice the way
you rub your palms and look down
when someone is angry at you
and the way you smirk
as you pull away from a kiss

they will notice how you can't sleep
without your body touching someone else's
how you never crease any pages of books
and how you close your eyes when you dance in your kitchen
with your record player on

they will find all of the words
that they see you as
and turn them into something beautiful

people say you die twice
once when you stop breathing
and when someone says your name
for the last time

if you fall in love with a poet
they will never stop
mentioning your name
you will be alive
for eternity
Jaqualan Aug 2018
I am a Jealous lover
But I say I am a lover, not to suggest that I am loved back,
And if i am it is never as much as I love, never as pure, never as longingly,
I don’t day dream about it, I wouldn’t stop smoking for it, No one has ever written a poem about me…. I digress.

After months of not feeling for you, more like telling myself I dont have feelings for you
You strike a conversation and ask me for tips for your first date with HIM.
This ruins my memorial day but I dont want to seem bitter so I oblige and give you tips on how to make yourself, someone elses,
my aura, the darkest shade of green, I tell you how important it is to share things about yourself, that body language is most trustworthy but will rat you out at every corner, and do this all at the same time,  that eye contact is important, because you have the warmest eyes and they specialize in destroying walls built around the heart. I know, I remember this from personal experience.

That is what I said:

What I really wanted to say was more like, ******* , I was at a BBQ,
This day wasnt supposed to be sour, Its pretty outside.
Im not going to cry, I hate you,
What did I do the deserve this, I grilled and didnt give anyone food poisoning
I better not start crying,
I had a Corona with Lime for breakfast,
Romeo Santos is playing, you know,  the one that I like because it makes me think of the time I tried to teach you to dance. Because what sensible human being doesnt like to dance.
**** here comes a tear.

Now I know No matter the amount of faux positivity and support I project towards you, It is a mask, a coping mechanism, a way for me to subsist with the fact that you and I will never be a we,
That our fates arent destin, and I say fates plural but you and I are not meant to be a we
there is no walking into the sunset with you, more like watching sunsets, crying over you
Wanting so badly to hate you,
Boy, who composed pessimism in the grassy meadow that is my mind,
In the exact place I let my Optimism roam free.


I dont despise you, In ways I am thankful for the experience that was you,
I learned not expect so much, that there are things worth fighting for, and things that are not
I know when to turn back now, because you were not the path of least resistance,
More like,  the path that resisted me the most.
I now cage both optimism and pessimism alike, they have established schedules to roam in the meadow, as to not interfere with the freedom of the other.
And on certain occasions when they are cordial to each other I let them both roam freely, as I now know how the use them both when making decisions. I feel better about choices when I am already cognitive of the worst possible outcome.

I learned that building a wall and leaving it unattended is as effective as not having a wall in the first place, i now keep sentries posted and some might think that is tragic,
But i consider it as me being extra precautious.
I am truly grateful, and proof of this is that I wished you good luck on your first date with him, but I dont want an update later along the lines of the relationship that may or may not develop between the two of you as I am and will, not be interested .

— The End —