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Nov 2023 · 206
Sunset
Mitch P Nov 2023
The Golden glow
is Melting blue into spills of
Lipstick and vacation
Falling behind the world
Nov 2023 · 170
I wish I could be your tree
Mitch P Nov 2023
I wish I could be your tree
That you sit beneath and ask
questions
For guidance in your confusion
Clarity on windy days. My branches
Would brush together and shake out
Answers in the rustling between
My leaves
And you would go with answers
Into the sunshine
Sep 2021 · 77
Beautiful Sidewalk
Mitch P Sep 2021
Beautiful days and sidewalks
crack a smile in the shadows
tree limb shelter from the sun
leaves me hallowed, hello
to the nothingness, pause the carousel
that's swinging around my temple, I've got
complicated thoughts, but
I'm thinking life is simple.
Single winds make many movements
like single bills make amusements
take a stroll through acoustics
and sit amid confusion.
I got rhythm in my dark red tubes that
beat, I'm on the street with my windows down
not hindered down, how
can I, not smile?
Sweet breeze
brings the sun
I go forward
until I get to where I came from.
I can't turn this piece of paper
back into a pine
so I might as well write on its lines.
I can't have been gone for too long.
Suddenly I'm hearing myself talk
on this beautiful day
staring at the sidewalk.
Jul 2021 · 416
Paintbrush skies
Mitch P Jul 2021
Look
Through the window
watching paintbrush skies
fade into a starlit night
moving over us
hurdling forward
carrying our suitcases of reflections
- worries, frustrations, relief.

Look
without seeing
Because I'm imagining a memory
- frightfully similar
to predicting the future.
Cornering the world,
I'm turning away
from paintbrush skies.

Look
back and forth between
my canvas and my muse
within and without my mind
Moving with broad strokes
that shrink into the detail
Never quite sure  if I'm seeing
what's really ahead
or in my head.
Jul 2021 · 769
Put away the dishes
Mitch P Jul 2021
I put away the dishes
hampering peace of mind
dancing between the counters
handling the quiet

tidying a mess
and unhiding fears
feeling each breath in my throat,
fighting back tears

I picture the most beautiful
and sad, image I've ever had
and wonder if heartache
only gets harder with age

At the arc of my day
Before things go back to different
I shutter in my memories
and put away the dishes
Nov 2018 · 197
Forgiveness
Mitch P Nov 2018
I am under no illusion
So include your delusions
In the things I love about you

I believe in mistakes
and redemption
When they are founded in love
and intention
I believe in exceptions
and exemptions
Because no one is perfect
Feb 2018 · 420
Which way?
Mitch P Feb 2018
My life lacks without a purpose divine
and I try not to settle
but can't find time to try

I'm clueless to the canvas
I only know the corner
that I've already covered

I was hidden in decisions
but now I need directions, so
which way are we going?
Feb 2018 · 312
Golden Tree
Mitch P Feb 2018
Build the branches
And birds will land
Free to leave but
rest in the shade

When the season takes
they'll bask in the sun
and make it their home
until Spring.
Be a strong foundation for your loved ones and they won't let you down when you need them.
Jun 2015 · 491
The Fall
Mitch P Jun 2015
I remember love
and it's steep cavernous walls
the gripping elation
And unforced smiles.

Comfort falls in the crook
of my arm and my lungs
And steals away my fear.
Her breath tickles my shoulder,
she twitches in her sleep
And smiles like the crack of dawn.

Where love would wear away
now it wears on me,
weighs on my security;
a secret I won't believe.

I climbed with grit and grin
against gravity.
Where I used to fear the climb
now I fear the fall.
Jan 2015 · 6.6k
Windows
Mitch P Jan 2015
Love dangles in my eyes.
Love floats in my air.
Love is my every tomorrow
and today is already gone.

I scroll through
hopeful photos.
I see yellow glows
in windows.

Thankfully,
the lamp and the screen
grant me amity.
I started with the first stanza and the "floats in my air" line led me to start talking about a wanting love like it was the scent. That took me to "smelling" it like I was hungry, wanting love like I want food. I had a line in this poem about "going to bed hungry" and a simple sentence "A pie in the window". The idea of looking at love like a pie in the window led me to start thinking about looking out through my own window at all the other windows across the city that I can see from my desk. I turned back to my laptop and instinctively opened Facebook; another window of sorts. I realized that there are two very different senses of unity at play in this scene - a unity with other lonely souls sitting by their windows, and another different connection with social media posts from people who are already in happy relationships.
Dec 2014 · 709
A Good Life - 1/14/13
Mitch P Dec 2014
I try to do right
but I have my vices
And for that, I have my guilt.

I know my heart
And want to live by its course
Despite my windy nights.

Living awake when I should be sleeping
Is all too familiar, all too comforting.
Why should I avoid the moments that I have had
the most of?

I tried to fall asleep early,
but I have my nights.
I have myself;
to credit and to blame.
A short piece about accepting who I am and what makes me tick, rather than fighting my creative impulses.
Dec 2014 · 2.4k
Fools Gold - 1/8/2013
Mitch P Dec 2014
I want her
to not just remember that she is beautiful
but to know it always.

I need her
to love her how I love her -
in all of her ways.

I will only trade gold
for gold.
A story about a breakup that was driven by one person having a poor self-image; which makes it very difficult for anyone else to love them.
Dec 2014 · 539
Memories - from 10/27/13
Mitch P Dec 2014
I remember falling in love -
Feeling attachment rush
Like cold water
Over my head.
It felt like waking up.

Alcohol and vices
Spread their arms and warm
My shivering heart.
I'm dozing back to sleep.
I'm resting again
While time passes.

I remember moments of vulnerability
And honesty
And weakness.
I fell through the surface
And swam through the cold.
I held my breath in the depths
And woke up breathing.
My first post is a random page I thumbed to in a book of writing. I'm going to populate my account with a handful of pieces before I start posting anything fresh.

— The End —