Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
samasati Nov 2013
please
be tender with me
but don’t let me use you
that’s something I’ve gotten the hang of and readily available people
sometimes shouldn’t always be so
readily available ~
I know this because I’ve often been too readily available
and walked all over,
I think I still have the footprints on my little arrhythmic heart
to prove it —

oh
I’m pretty sure though,
you know,
that we all know what it’s like
to be the plant uprooted from the soil
for the selfish purposes of indoor decor:
it needs
and needs and needs
because self-sufficient roots were cut
and it pleads
and pleads and pleads
*please
be tender with me,
for I don’t know what I am doing here
let alone how to live here in this dark
****** pit you call a home — *

I’ve made a new home for myself
every day
because every day, I am not the same
it’s a constant struggle of
head vs. heart
and
holding back vs. art; &
if I’m going to be honest about one thing
it’s that
I’m completely alright … it’s just,
admitting that means
I’ve got to step into the light
and I’m just so attached to this little plant inside of me
that has been uprooted and abused,
I’m dwelling on mistakes and madness and using
a thousand nouns to fill me whole,
I completely forget that playing the victim makes me sick
and to grow,
all I need is water, love and sun for my soul.
samasati Nov 2013
start a poem;
with what?
I choose a word and think: I always start poems
just like that;
I want to be more abstract
and tralala pulchritudinous --
there's a word for you; I used a thesaurus,
how phoney
how transposed and disconnected from my heart
I write

and I know I can do better than that
than this
yeah, I know that
and I'm a strong believer of
art
creating itself
when it's meant to be created
and that sometimes it's just not meant to be
but when there is so much
filling the heart with wistful agony
and agonizing wistfulness,
creating something pretty
feels pretty good; and you'd think
there'd ought to be something
to write about
if I can feel this much inside of me
if it's that heavy...
I guess
what I'm really trying to say
is that
I'm afraid.
but that's not good enough, is it?
I want to write wilting lilies and papercuts
and stubbed toes and a bit of rage and longing, but mostly
I want to write the truth
and the truth is
I'm afraid
that I'm not enough;

but I know, I know,
that's not good enough, is it?
samasati Nov 2013
I've been told
not to feel
if I can help it
not to deal
with pressing bothers
but they scrape at me like pernicious elves
with honed candy canes,
made spear-like to stick in my guts
and stay there

I've been told to
watch out!
time creeps up and then you're forty
love dries up and then you're forty
crisises emerge and the spear holds itself sturdy
and all you've known is to go numb;
when the spear comes,
go numb;
babies will **** on their thumbs
and you will go numb

I have a cat now
it came with the house I am renting
it's grey and it stares
into my soul like it knows there's a hole
and doesn't stop staring until I close my bedroom door
but it sits outside on the floor
meowing for more
scratching to be let in, to dig her nails in my skin
and tell me with those cunning eyes
*life's not out to get you
but it doesn't mean you won't hurt inside
it doesn't mean the hole in your soul
will be patched, mended or filled or made whole
anytime soon
and sometimes it's just too hard to get out of bed
before noon
but still, you should try or I'll scratch you, deep in
my nails are like spears and you don't know where else
they have been
I wrote this more as a spoken word; so feel free to read it aloud.
samasati Oct 2013
take off your mask
Halloween isn't every day
you're shy
but you're brave;
I'm still trying to figure out
how
to get over you
I'm shy
but I'm brave --
though I suppose that when hearts are haunted
with feeling
unwanted,
you are less than you can be
it makes it so hard to be free
and I suppose that when hearts are haunted
with feeling unwanted,
there is nowhere else to go
besides a labyrinth
down below.
take off your hurt,
it's removable just like a shirt
and hang it to the side;
look in the mirror,
your mother could not have been more clear:
beauty resides --
yes, I suppose that when hearts are haunted
with feeling
unwanted,
you are blackened to the root
going rotten like a fruit;
and I suppose that when hearts are haunted
with feeling
unwanted,
there is nothing but the blues
so there is nothing left to lose.
samasati Oct 2013
a womb. *****. an egg. curiosity. a man and woman that love each other. a man and woman that don’t know each other. a man and woman that kind of like each other but don’t want anything serious.

stupidity. a ripped ******. a missed birth control pill. bad fortune. good fortune. an in the moment decision. a premeditated decision. ***.

love-making. *******. pulling out. pre-*******.

old flames. new sparks. excitement in the private parts.

addiction. miscommunication. needing something to feel important. to have a purpose.

mothers and fathers. crack addicts and coke heads. teenagers.

impatience. anticipation. guilt for causing blue *****.

****. accidents. mistakes.

true love.
samasati Oct 2013
big sweaters, ghibli, acrylic paint, cafes, knit blankets and unplanned afternoon naps on the couch, gardens, bananas, vanilla almond milk, soft yarn to crochet into ****** scarves, candles after midnight, the big trees with bulky roots, patio furniture, pianos in random buildings, the internet, manatees, the boundless colours of nail polish, peanut butter & honey, rubber boots, pens that write well, fresh new notebooks, skylights, american netflix, mothers that understand, tête à têtes, one glass of sweet white wine, awkward eye contact that turns into comfortable kissing, airplanes, fresh air, baseball caps, the female collective, the really good dark chocolate, flowers, pumpkin spice lattes and ***** chai lattes, candid laughter, yoga, oceans, high waisted shorts, striped t-shirts, docile cats, playful pups, french presses, integrity, sunscreen, meerkats, penguins, chameleons, autumn leaves, fall fashion, ruby woo mac lipstick, osho, dynamic meditation, compassion, siblings, scrambled eggs, smart phones, garageband, metronomes, hot glue guns, quinoa, ferry boats, soft hands, bicycles, real people, fat snowflakes in ample, graceful *******, backpacks that don't hurt your shoulders, hair conditioner, multi-vitamins, soft sand under bare feet, people that own up to lies, clarity, samsara, satori, samasati, visions, echinacea, lavender oil and frankincense, ambrosia apples and ripe avocados, authenticity, Morgan Freeman's voice, good kissers, *******, iced tea on a hot day, curtains, the smell of beeswax, art galleries, hand massages and foot massages, reiki, plums, mild thunderstorms, soccer *****, good surprises, when birds don't **** on your head.
I wrote this with my momma one fine morning!
there is always so much more to add.
samasati Oct 2013
there are amoebas in me
half are black
half are white
black knows the difference between right & wrong
white knows the difference between wrong & right
I am a castle
made of sugar cubes
I am Einstein
as a fetus
I am a trampoline without springs
but most of all,
I am a liar and a square shooter
and often
don't know what the difference is
Next page