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Distance gives you a constant
paradox of emotions. You can
feel both completely alone and
empty yet filled to the brim with
love at the exact same time.
Let's hold the sun, you and I
and bring it to the other side of the sky
to where even the shadows stumble
and ears ache to hear praise

we'll burn our fingers
and scorch our lashes
but it will be worth it

for a man who walks by day will not fade
it is when he walks by night
that the tapered fingers creep in
to dampen the flame that barely flickers

So, let's hold the sun, you and I
and bring it to the other side of the sky
we will be ******
we will be torn
but we'll shine
and they'll rise.
At a young age I grasped a pen.
Held it tight in my fist to make circles on a page
As if I was enraged,
But at that age it was all in good fun.
Soon enough someone,
I can’t remember who,
taught me how to hold one.
Pencils became cool.
I could make mistakes in school,
Then erase my error forever forgetting
That I may have been a fool
when spelling my own name with a lowercase K…

A school boy error.
But that’s just what I was.
A school boy.

I remember being introduced to crayons.
I thought to myself,
ALL OF THE COLORS ?!
Every color I could not even imagine.
Colors I could not pronounce,
Colors of pride,
Colors of passion,
And when I was asked to use these colors,
at first being young,
I chose to abuse these colors.

I’d put red where it didn't belong,
And orange where you would think it was wrong.
Use pink for people and purple for pants,
Brown for the ground,

And one time,

Just this one time,
I made the grass blue,
And the clouds green.
That made me laugh,                                        
Because this world was that page,
And that page was mine.
I crossed and I scribbled all over the lines.
And when I was finish I’d go running to tell what I’d done.
My father would look and say
“Wow!”
“That’s beautiful son.”
And then my exhibit of art
Would hang neatly from the refrigerator door.
But that
     does not
          happen
                any
                    more
I grew older.
And as time passed,
the lines grew to be guidelines and laws.

Rules began to apply, I did abide.
My right to be free was strictly denied.
Each stroke of a color, each stroke of a pen!
When would my hand dance freely again?

I learned of letters from A to Z,
In love with language I won spelling bees,
Put consonants with vowels to make words,
Learned adjectives, verbs, nouns, and adverbs.

I was a proud little nerd,
And I still felt this deep discontentment.

An egg hatched and I was not yet a bird.
Where was the wind beneath my wings,
to give me  a feeling fly enough to make me sing?

I began to fall.
Fall fast into the depth of misunderstanding.
If knowledge is power,
Why were my heart and soul disbanding?

In frustration I sat in contemplation,
Pondering thoughts and memories,
of when I was most happy.
Looking through old picture books I found a folded piece of paper with the only solution to my problem.

The page had my name at the bottom.
Lines danced and trapeze from one side of the page to the other.
No sense,
No order,
Just ink.

I understood with a smile,
I hung that picture on my bedroom wall,
I opened a book and held a pen.
On lined paper I put line after line with occasional rhyme.
I used letters to laminate life.
I used words to take flight.
I used sentences to draw dreams.
I used what I knew and what I had seen.

Words are wisdom, what wisdom gains value when not shared with what we know as the world.
So when playing with ink, understand to be free,
understand your responsibility to others when they see what you have created in secrecy, and let there be no limit to what you think is outside that box.
That is how you dabble with ink.
I want to build a house
So that I can be somewhere
That isn't broken
I want to have windows and doors
With locks and keys
To keep me from them
And them from me

I want to build a house
With color and light
So that rainy days are not sad
I want a roof overhead
To keep the sky from peering in
To keep it out
To keep me in

I want to build a house
So I can hide from the wind
Because it tears away warmth
I want a fireplace and chimney
To keep me warm
And let Christmas in

I want to build a house
That can be strong when I'm not
Bones can break but houses do not
Mountain peaks, city streets
More nomadic wanderings
Airplanes' flights to far away
You are gone but it all stays

Kisses goodnight and goodbye
Oceans deep and dark and wide
Singing sweet lullabies
As headlights fade into the night

Like sweet dreams that haunt your sleep
Chased away by morning rays
Broken glass glinting in the dawn
Spoiling all of our sweet dreams

Sand castles that wash away
Ocean's rapture steals them day by
Day by day by day
All gone and washed away.

Day by day by day

Traffic lights and drunken fights
The tick ticking of every clock
Spin away as the music plays
Build your castles that wash away.

Like sweet dreams that haunt your sleep
Chased away by morning rays
Broken glass glinting in the dawn
Spoiling all of our sweet dreams

Sand castles that wash away
Ocean's rapture steals them day by
Day by day by day
All gone and washed away.

Tomorrow as today

Watch the clouds passing in the sky
As we sing more lullabies
The moon and stars are oh so bright
But we forget to shine.

Day by day by day.

Sweet dreams of sand castles
As everything washes away

Day by day by day
Tomorrow just like today
Somedays,
I forget that your first name
is not
Perfection.
Christmas time
Of '91
Hold on, Momma,
Here I come.
Live near Miami
You wish to name me
After the city,
Instead you choose Amy.
I have a brother
Daddy must remind
"Anthony, love her.
And try to be kind."
We played every day
With toys and thoughts
And things we shouldn't say.
It made childhood rock.
First year
Of middle school
No friends near
No boyfriend too.
Awkwardly,
I made new friends.
And soon after,
My first boyfriend.
All through high school,
I loved that boy.
Poor grades,
But loving joy.
Age 18,
He's a Marine.
That same year,
We're married.
Also that year,
Good and bad fusion.
I went to the Doctor:
Bipolar delusions.
I studied in school,
As husband fought.
It didn't quite help
My paranoid thoughts.
Finished a course,
I'm registered
To look at your tooth,
Still looking ahead.
Other things
I'd like to do.
Surfing the web,
Made a decision.
Tomorrow's the day
I'll be a vegan.
This very day
Still alive,
Still happy and healthy,
Still full of drive.
Living in Cali,
Isn't it nice?
Working with flowers,
Paid a price.
Every year
Goes by faster
I'm thankful for
Love and laughter
To fill the years
And fill my heart
This, my life,
Is what I've got.
Poem based off of Mike Hauser's poem, "my life" found here: http://hellopoetry.com/poem/my-life-59/
Look at the thirty-three.
Nine years ago
in the junior school hall
and now how many miles
between you, and you
and me.

Pre-pubescent times,
bananas on our faces,
eleven, maybe twelve
with collars all tidy
and jumpers tucked in.
Say cheese.

We grew up too fast.
A few have kids
who'll study
where we once did.
But my friend is at Park
and I walk an Avenue.

This one inked their skin
and this one had drugs.
And you, third row,
well you moved abroad.
I'll bet ten bucks
you don't 'remember when?'

If I saw her, him
what would I say?
A hasty hello
or not one word.
They have far different leaves
on their trees now.

Near a decade later,
the photo back on my shelf.
Here's to you,
what we were
before nowadays
snatched our hands.
Written: December 2013 and April 2014.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time about a photograph of my Year Six (2003-04) group at school. This piece, partially inspired by Ted Hughes's poem 'Six Young Men', may be part of my third-year university dissertation regarding Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes.
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