Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.

here i am
sitting at my typewriter
as tears trickle down my cheeks
and i can hardly breathe
because i know it’s over
and that this isn’t just another
false ending
it’s really, truly over
and i hate that you had to hear my voice quiver
i just pray you’ll be happy
and that everything will work out for you
in the end
you are so special
you are so special
you are so special
i will miss you forever
but i don’t doubt that i’ll see you again
in that distant place
i know that all will be well
and we won’t think of the pain
or the hurt
or the fights
or the tears
we’ll just be thankful for all the goodness
that came from two hearts
being so vulnerable with each other
everything will be okay
i’ll be okay
please do not worry
you are good
i don’t blame you
i know i’ll be okay
i just wish i could’ve been okay
with you
this hurts so much
but it won’t hurt forever

goodbye

p.s. i forgive you

i wanted you to love me on purpose.

Don’t forget to get away every once in awhile,
To lose yourself in a book
Or in the woods behind your home
Ride your bike into the sunset,
Sit on your front steps and count the cars passing by,
Lay on your roof and gaze up at the night sky,
Drive along backroads with the windows rolled down
Listening to nothing but the sound of rushing wind

I hope you take the time to be alone,
To sort through the cluttered shelves of your heart

I hope you take the time to be silent,
To close your eyes and just listen

I hope you take the time to be still,
To quiet your mind and experience the beauty
Of simply Being

In a world that tells us we should always be
Connected, on the go, and doing something worth sharing,
I hope you know it’s okay to
Disconnect, slow down, and keep some memories
Between you and the moment you shared it with.

She took my hand and followed me
through the trees,
under the archway made of ivy
(flanked by pristinely carved hedges)
into the vast, open field
which met the ethereal red sun
on the horizon.

We sat in the fresh grass,
cool in the evening air.
All the while we stayed silent,
just admiring the untouched space.
Each blade of grass before us
swayed gently,
tantalisingly...

Time had stopped
but everything was still living.
Still moving.
As if this place were not included
in Time's perseverance.  
I didn't want it to be,
it was too important to me.

It occurred to me then
that it wasn't this place
that I valued the most at all
It was this moment.

And I captured it.

The moon
Above the snow-covered mountain
Dropped hailstones.

The empty air made buzz
Thin wings of a dragonfly.

Search. Search. Seek. Seek.
Cold. Cold. Clear. Clear.
Sorrow. Sorrow. Pain. Pain.
Hot flashes. Sudden chills.
Stabbing pains. Slow agonies.
I can find no peace.
I drink two cups, then three bowls,
Of clear wine until I can’t
Stand up against a gust of wind.
Wild geese fly over head.
They wrench my heart.
They were our friends in the old days.
Gold chrysanthemums litter
The ground, pile up, faded, dead.
This season I could not bear
To pick them. All alone,
Motionless at my window,
I watch the gathering shadows.
Fine rain sifts through the wu-t’ung trees,
And drips, drop by drop, through the dusk.
What can I ever do now?
How can I drive off this word —
Hopelessness?