for you
i would buy a boat
so you could sail far away
and adventure in a life
that only existed in dreams

for you
i would buy a boat
so when the ocean waves whisper
and beckon for you
while it calls you to blue waters
to its sandy beaches and waves
it will know there is not much longer

for you
i would buy a boat
because you are not you
unless your heart is covered in sand
and your lungs are filled with salty air

-k.j.c

so we leap
taking daring chances
into the things we do not know
but holding onto the feeling
that it will be worth it
-k.j.c

do not be afraid to express emotions
for they are yours and no one else’s
there is no such thing as overreacting
because like chemicals
we are made to react
so produce emotions
shout out your anger
speak your sadness
love loudly
whisper your passions to the stars
and tell the wind your frustrations
do not be afraid to feel
to change
to fight
to question
for you are made for so much more
than bottled up emotions
-k.j.c

we were crumbling bricks,
walls with scattered graffiti,
and broken windows
but our foundation was sturdy
so from the ground up,
we built ourselves again
making ourselves greater
than we used to be
-k.j.c

and so
with a flower tucked behind her ear
and feet bare
she took her first steps
to the start
where not even she knew where it ended
-k.j.c

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

there are days where i wish
that time moved more slowly
so that laughs were more often
coffee was served just right
dogs lived a lot longer
less people were lonely
and leftovers tasted better than they did yesterday
-k.j.c