When I was younger, I saw a meteorite
It fell from the orange sky
I watched it fly in front of me
I was sitting in the back of my family's jeep
Pointing forward,
Eyes glistening,
“Dad..”
“Look there..”
Before him was a white streak in the sky heading down
As if something was announcing
I was here
“It's a plane..” He said
Quickly diminishing my dream
Quickly disregarding what I think
That could have made me lose hope but I didn’t
My eyes still glistened
Looked up knowing it wasnt of this world
That this white streak was all that was left behind
As something miraculous came from the sky
It was special
Different and I knew it
No matter how many times he told me it was nothing
How many times I reiterated that it was more than that
That it was everything
That it was mysterious
And out of this world
He claimed it was nothing
That it  was the same
No ounce of doubt in his mind
He saw a plane
But I saw a meteorite

Throughout my life
I never saw someone that special
So beautiful  that they left white streaks in their wake
So amazing that I would of risked wrecking my car
Just to see the allure they can create
I knew she was out of this world
And what we had was special
Different
But my dad claimed it was nothing
We were just friends
And my love was misinterpreted
Quickly diminishing my dream
Quickly disregarding what I think
But my eyes still glistened  
As the sight of her
There was no one I loved more
My dad swore what we had was nothing
While I swore it was the opposite
That it was everything
That it was beauty
And it was special
And it was different

Later on the news
The reporter spoke of a meteorite that fell in my county
The picture he showed was exactly what I thought it would be
“Wow” my dad said
“You were right”

The opposite of creativity:
Staring at a blank sheet of
Notebook paper and thinking
The simplicity of the neatly
Placed blue lines is
Good enough.

Her eyes
are the colour of coming home.
Earth and summer nights and the sound of bells.
Somehow, my own flat grey
look rich
in their reflection.
Men have killed for such beauty and yet.
And yet.
She makes me wish I could be more gentle,
because something as delicate
as the way her eyes light up
when she laughs
deserves the utmost care.

Maybe after the grass is cut
Things will get better.

Love Mary **

Three things that should always be strong.
Coffee.
Poetry, and You.

the little blue bird from my dream,
it told me I would be okay,
it told me I would get through it,
it told me not to worry
but then,
that little blue bird from my dream died.

2 am is for the poets who
can't sleep because their
minds are alive with words
for someone who's not there.

For the alcoholics drinking
themselves into amnesia to
forget someone who left.

2 am is not for the lovers
asleep in each other's arms.

It is for the lonely, the ones
who are inlove with the
loved but are not loved in
return.

Arriving in a lonely dark room
In which my misery loom
Unpacking a suitcase of doubt
No windows nor any way out
I take off the coat that protects me
It was made of your laughter and glee
Now I settle atop of this bed
Supported by things that I dread
I took the path that lead me here
For love and joy was all that I fear
I will forever live in a room full of sad
When I ran away from the good that I had