I don’t know whether you spoke in poetry
or spoke in cliches
because cliches are just poetry that has lost its life
or lived its life
or run out of life
And if thunder strikes or the moon shines or you are crying on the other end of a cellphone,
anything's poetry anyway.

Just love yourself, you know, but don't get cocky and save money so you don't starve on the streets but don't be such a ******* greedy *******, and walk with your shoulders straight for once in your life but stop striding around like you own the place, didn't I tell you to start saving money? But after you leave a tip; be frugal not cheap you say i love you much too fast i mean come on romeo and juliet just killed themselves isn't that complete nonesense and in the meantime try to let loose and stop stressing about what you eat i mean it's only food it's not an enemy and you never say you love us anymore and it's breaking our hearts one by one and you really need to be healthier I mean
i love you
and hope you live forever
but ******* will you eat something? You're just skin and bones and my gosh, you need to broaden your horizons but why do you think about all this weird stuff? you need to lighten up and READ more i mean there's so much out there
and why do you get hung up on the little stuff? I mean it's the little thngs that matter you need to set your priorities straight i hope you hate yourself as much as i hate you are you going out again i thought you said you didn't have friends when we said you needed to leave your **** room and by the way you need to stop suppressing other people's beliefs i mean diversity is our strength and you can't let other people tell you how to think and by the way will you stop being a ******* chauvinistic ******* i mean you can't treat people like that and you're probably racist whether you like it or not did i mention you need to eat more? because you're getting fat and you really need to watch your serving sizes but you know it's not how much you eat so much as what you eat and dear, please, that shirt cannot be worn with those pants, you're so adorable when you try to match like this and stop wearing the same two sweaters day in and day out like you're two halves of a mime trying to figure out how to be one.
Did I mention you look fat?

I am petting the dog
though it will die before I

I carry it like a rucksack.

You know you're *******, through and through
When you try to write a line or two
And find the you you are writing to
Has changed to a you of a different hue.

Maybe this new year we’ll see a magic zoo
and have a conversation with a magic cockatoo
it might just happen this new year
let’s pretend

Maybe this new year we’ll climb mount everest
live alone on the top if the government will let us
it might just happen this new year
let’s pretend

Maybe
this new year
I’ll love you again

Maybe this new year I’ll find a magic pen
and write magic stories about a magic land
it might just happen this new year
let’s pretend

Maybe this new year my mistakes I will amend
like forgetting and forgiving and locking you in a pen
It might just happen this new year
let’s pretend

Maybe
this new year
I’ll love you again

Maybe this new year we’ll get super fit
and run a marathon with negative splits
It might just happen this new year
let’s pretend

Maybe this new year we’ll get old and won’t remember
what keeps us apart and stops us from being together
It might just happen this new year
let’s pretend.

Maybe
this new year
I’ll love you again

“How do you know when you’re in love?”
"Well,” Jack said, gazing out the windshield at the flickering stars, “It feels like drowning in a thousand oceans
starving at a feast
driving
with your eyes closed
and the windows down.”

“Really?”
"Rhetorically speaking."

“It feels like sleeping naked on the beach.
an anchor deep in your chest flung overboard
rain
on the window
of a moonlit apartment.”

“Really?”
“Rhetorically speaking.”

“I love you, Jack.”
“Always and forever?”
“Always and forever.”
"Rhetorically speaking.”

Isn't it sort of silly
to number words
instead of ideas?

We don’t hate God or the Lord,
We don’t hate the guy who made Flappy Bird.
We don’t hate hate Mommy or Daddy,
We don’t hate people who treated us badly.

We hate a star of infinite girth,
We hate the force spinning the earth.

So sleep away sunshine, the world’s turned its back on you.
Just sleep away sunshine, and spin a dream of something new.

Singing Hotel California's guitar solo
Or talking about living our lives like Thoreau
Teeth clenched fast in every photograph
Shaking quietly, trying not to laugh
Using the word 'us' without even thinking
Proudly proclaiming how much coffee you've been drinking
Smiling like you've won the world, staring at the ground
Asking me what's on when I play music too loud

If I could rearrange the alphabet
I wouldn’t just put U and I together
I’d hide all of the other letters far away,
because it’s only words that come between us
the
forgetfulness of a line break, the, uncertainty, of a comma
if I could rearrange the alphabet
I would forget about the letters that make up H-E-R
and probably leave the D out altogether.

If you were poison
I’d take you anyway

If I could dive to the bottom of the ocean
I wouldn’t look for the Titanic
or an Octopus’s Garden
or Atlantis
or any of those other cities
I’d look for the reason why we can’t be together
beneath the choppysurf

Relationships are like shoes
One person is right
and the other person left

There’s not much to say
She likes to read
and she likes to laugh
and she has traveled through her entire life with her head held high.
She gives me heartburn
in every sense of the word

No reason to live
without a bit of evil.

Love’s not a house to be bought
nor a prize to be got
not a mountable beast
nor an expensive feast

Love’s not a race to be won
nor a task to be done
not a stamp to collect
nor gold to prospect

Love’s a library book
that every time makes us cry
or giving name and shape
to ***** of plasma in the sky

Love’s a little nook
that we can burrow if we try
a ceaseless spate
within which we will lie

I save up words like
bottlecaps and coins
I use up people like
applejuice and joints
I forget all of it like

creator
destroyer
voluminous ends
quick beginnings
do-all
done-all
will-all
no starts nor stops
thick like sloppy kisses
thin like passing talks
All this hid inside a clock

I look to you, with my sweaty palms,
                                   back,
                             armpits,
      and of course,
lips.
I look to you with my ungainly feet,
                          bowing,
                    blistered,
      and most of all,
cold.
I speak to you with my uncertain voice,
                        shaky,
               stuttering,
            and hardly,
hopeful.
You with your subtle perfections,
                of voice,
     of spirit,
      and probably,
of heart.
And I think:
Thank God for my grammar.

I learned from my dog
to turn around at least thrice
before settling down

It’s like
I came, I saw, I conquered
Except
I came, I saw, then I conquered.

It’s like
And miles to go before I sleep
Except
And miles to go before I can sleep.

It’s like
“Beware the Jabberwock, my son!”
Except
“Beware of the Jabberwock, my son!”

It’s like
“I love you too.”
Except
"love you too”

It’s like
a snowflake.
Except
Five hundred thousand ******* pounds of ice

It’s like I woke up one morning and didn’t want to make you coffee anymore
It’s like I left the door unlocked and nothing was stolen
It’s like I teased you about your hair and you didn’t pick up on it

It’s like the next five hundred thousand years got real close real fast and there's only one thing I can think about,
and that’s how when I say your name my voice cracks
and when I say her name we do.

I am not an English major
I major in “i love you”
I major in “what’s around that corner?”
I major in “why can’t i?”

My major is the inflection of the voice inside your head.

Our love is a poem
with no reason nor rhyme

Loving you was like parking between the lines in an empty lot at 3:00 in the morning.

Tonight we read some poetry,
and I didn’t like it,
and mine was too childish.
And then we talked.
And you were talking in poetry,
and you proved me wrong.

And I realized you’re always talking in poetry,
and that whenever you are happy,
you are proving me wrong.
And that’s a bit messed up,
isn’t it?

It doesn’t matter what’s inside the jeweled treasure chest.
You won’t unlock it if you know what’s best

I hear a hollow thump when I grab it in my fist
Just enjoy the moment, don’t be a pessimist.

The problem
with promises
is that sometimes
they are
*hardtokeep

If we were to break bread together,
And share it, slice, by slice,
I would want the endpiece.
Because endpieces,
Are also beginningpieces.