Izze - Hello Poetry

Izze Jun 2020

fresh corn and caprese for dinner
late-evening golden sun

watermelon sugar plays in the kitchen, drowning out the sound of the hand mixer laboring over the whipped cream--

mom sways gently at the sink. strawberry heads fall softly into the drain.

my heart is so warm

i wrote this last night while i was high out of my mind lmaooo i hope y'all enjoy

Izze Apr 2020

when you

when you told me you loved me for the first time, i thought i’d never need to hear the words again

when you said we’d have our dream house, our dream life, our dream kids, i thought i’d never need to plan again

when you smiled with me and laughed at me and wound yourself so tightly around me that i thought you’d never leave, i knew i’d never need to search again.

but when you said that “this just isn’t what i need anymore”, i thought i hadn’t felt pain like that before.

i was wrong, cause

when you said that you’d forgotten what our first kiss was like, you broke me all over again.

and i wanna clarify that i hate you for it. always.

Izze Mar 2020

yard poem continued

a single sparrow sings, perched atop one of the hemlocks that stand guard over their kingdom.

busy bees buzz around the redbud tree, bringing pollen to their queen.

the green garden gate ***** in the breeze, beckoning all with promises of sweet oasis from the summer sun.

the hazy sky and I swap stories,

and the spring peepers serenade us as the night falls, the universe unveiling her silent shadow like blossoms after rain.

the stars told me to say hello

this is supposed to be a chronological journey through a summer day in my yard! the bird starts the early morning, the bees stop by in the late morning, the gate transitions into the afternoon, the hazy sky makes an appearance in the late afternoon when the clouds aren't burnt away by the powerful sun, and the spring peepers say hello at sunset, just before the stars send their salutations after dark. :)

Izze Mar 2020

yard poem

a single sparrow sings, perched atop one of the hemlocks that stand guard over their kingdom.

busy bees buzz around the redbud tree, bringing pollen to their queen.

Izze Mar 2020

Haikus

Izze! Look at the moon
Started looking at the sky,
Only aesthetics

I wanted my own
So I started looking up,
Enjoying life, sky.

I hated myself
Not joking! My aesthetic
Has totally changed.

I love me and life.
Thanks for the reminders, sky.
Thank you moon and stars.

These are some haikus that I just found... I wrote them my freshman year of high school, so it's fun to look at how far I've come as a writer and to see how much my style has changed!!

Izze Jan 2020

time

“high school love” is holocaustic, burns you wholly and totally, breaking, screaming, like scraped knees scrubbed with salt.

“high school love” is all-consuming, like fires raging closer and closer until they burn away the freedom and leave behind the fears, the regrets, the ice in the chest that refuses to leave even though the heat is on full blast.

“high school love” is missed kisses weighing on me like lead and even though loving girls is lovely, letting ladies get to me always makes a mess.

“high school love” isn’t a choice for me. i’ve always looked for a forever partner. i should have been born a swan, but here i am.

humans are serial monogamists, my mom says.

she’d know. her dad had 5 wives before he settled down with the right one, and he died before he hit their 25th wedding anniversary.

“high school love” is thinking i found my angel, my soulmate, thinking ‘this is it!!! i’ve found the mother of pearls amongst the shellfish in the ocean’, but Time pushes forward, never stopping,

beating
beating
beating

BEATING ON ME

Time likes pretending she doesn’t hear me cry in the unknown, she likes quieting me to the passing ear, leaving me

searching
searching
searching
searching

searching for the right one, cause if this one doesn’t last forever i can’t waste any more time

i can’t waste any more time
i can’t waste any more time
i can’t waste any more time
i can’t
i can’t
i can’t

Izze Jan 2020

1.28.20

sadness and anger threaten strangulation

my throat starts to close and i gasp for air, trapped under the turbulent waters of heartbreak

karma’s a *****, but she ain’t no match for me.

the poems i write these days are disjunct and disappointingly ordinary, and i feel they truly reflect my state of consciousness.

**** here come the waves again

my fingers stumble to press play on something i know will make me feel better. music is a panacea, most days

18 is on my horizon, followed closely by the rest of my life.

can’t it ******* get here already?? what are we waiting for, people????