"sufjan" poems
Oh, to see without my eyes
The first time that you kissed me
Boundless by the time I cried
I built your walls around me
White noise, what an awful sound
Fumbling by Rogue River
Feel my feet above the ground
Hand of God, deliver me
Oh, oh whoa whoa is me
The first time that you touched me
Oh, will wonders ever cease?
Blessed be the mystery of love
Lord, I no longer believe
Drowned in living waters
Cursed by the love that I received
From my brother's daughter
Like Hephaestion, who died
Alexander's lover
Now my riverbed has dried
Shall I find no other?
Oh, oh whoa whoa is me
I'm running like a plover
Now I'm prone to misery
The birthmark on your shoulder reminds me
How much sorrow can I take?
Blackbird on my shoulder
And what difference does it make
When this love is over?
Shall I sleep within your bed
River of unhappiness
Hold your hands upon my head
Till I breathe my last breath
Oh, oh whoa whoa is me
The last time that you touched me
Oh, will wonders ever cease?
Blessed be the mystery of love
Mar 15, 2018
Mar 15, 2018 at 9:38 AM UTC
It was nightfall whilst I commenced
Howard and Sufjan resonated my head
Heart was thumping against my chest
Slightest of drizzle varied my eye
Psyche was sketching days to the fore.
Plunged dead to the world midnight
Came vigorous next to the first light
I felt the caring wind filled with bliss
Resembling a mother’s kiss
The western sky sparkled surpassing dawn.
I was drunk on the beauty of this world
The sea still, tranquil and cavernous
Ignoring the horror, it formerly heard
Shortly I glided forward and beyond
Draining my past behind...
Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
It's 12:29.
I'm thinking about the moon.
It's one of those "Sufjan Stevens" nights.
His music always manages to perfectly translate my befuddling feelings and thoughts into rhythm and beat.
If I rest now I will miss out on what the night has to offer.
It's 1:07
I'm lying in bed.
I hear my mom on the phone with grandma.
They always manage to keep the conversation fresh and perpetual despite the 8,096 mile distance.
If I let my eyes close now morning and work will arrive faster.
It's 2:03
I give up on homework.
I open the laptop to watch Netflix.
I re-watch a show I've seen a dozen times.
If I escape to dreamland, this sense of knowing of what is to come will be stolen by the uncertainty of the subconscious.
It's 4:32
I'm filled with sadness.
I have procrastinated badly.
I abruptly jump out of bed and head downstairs to brew coffee.
If I go to sleep, I will regret it in the morning when I will face the consequences of my laziness and late night reasoning.
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:50 AM UTC
i simply cannot fathom
going out every single
saturday night
the world is cold and vicious enough as it is,
and we all know
that nighttime is different universe,
alcoholics covering up their scars with the slogans like
"i'm young and i'm allowed to have fun" or
"YOLO!"
bars full to the brim with
**** yous and what's your numbers and i'm-in-the-mood-to-start-a-fight-bro
don't get me wrong, it is fun
to go out sometimes
but after a while it gets old
because the world is cold and vicious enough as it is
i much prefer sleeping or
curling up with a book and a blanket and a hot mug of tea
cuddling with solitude while listening
to Sufjan or Regina or Elliott or Joni
or watching a disney movie,
where i feel safe,
clinging to a place
where the world won't ruin me.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
My playlist on Youtube writes itself into a poem
It elicits Love, Lust, Loss anger along with a few other emotions
Ratatat takes me on a tour of Rome
PHOX shows me how to dance in Slow Motion
John Denver joins me on the tour of Country Roads
Highlight Tribe encourages me to Free Tibet
Bioshock Infinite do I dream of with Schyman Elizabeth
Kavinsky with his beats, urging me to Outrun
Lose Sight now and again with Andrew Bayer and Ane Burn
Abandoned Pools take me down the memory lane in Clone High
Foo Fighters whisper in my ear that I too can Learn To Fly
COCAINEJESUS, Akira, beats and samples; I have PINEAPPLEKISSES
Cloud Nothing reminds me that I should Stay Useless
Discover A Little Opus as I take a ride on Little Comets
Sky Rabbit opine and observe the present In Our Times
Joey Badass shares with me his funky ideals of *World **********
Coheed and Cambria describe brotherhood in Key Entity Extraction
Geroge Ezra sings an ode to fathers in Listen to the Man
Perfect shows me the other side of the coin with Simple Plan
The Peppers tell a story of starting over covered in Snow
Shakey Graves says takes a chance and Roll the Bones
John Wayne Gacy Jr. the serial killer is immortalised by Sufjan Stevens
Imagine Dragons, the subconscious and fears come alive in Demons
Owl City tells a fantastic fable about insomnia in Fireflies
Ellie Goulding finds sweet slumber even in dark times in Lights
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
it's the caffeine making dark crescents undereye
not some divine enlightenment
(there might be a dash of soul-searching though)
low, glazed limbs are frozen still
a frosted flurry of flakes falls
relieving my concentration
returning me to the road
to the pale glow of white snow
silhouetting the bare oak grove
hefty adumbrations emerging
charcoal on unblemished canvas
"Harden your heart, grow up"
"Harden your heart, grow up"
I repeat over and over
click
I get a different result
Real insanity would be conversing to myself, not chanting: pshaw!
My insides now cold as ice
open windows, abrasive breeze
I don't have a seat warmer
don't need one when everything's the same temp
I've hardened my heart, my groovy slouch recedes
jaw set and stiffened
Sufjan and Novo Amor siphoning my hope
tears become stalactites
"I have loved you for the last time"
pulling me back into colorless pensiveness
matching the steadfast sentinels blurring by
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
I remember winter, when we first met
at the coffee shop in town. How could I forget?
I didn’t think you were interested,
even though you sent the message.
Stayed on your phone, barely said a word
while I tried to get your attention by being absurd.
I felt like there was something just beneath the surface
but I couldn’t quite tell just what it was.
As the weeks passed, you’d open up a little.
I tried so hard to hide how you made me so brittle.
And when you kissed me at the library, I remember trying to hide my smile
because I was so happy, and your beard tickled. I was so glad to be worth your while.
You played Sufjan Stevens and held my hand real tight
when we went to our spot for the first time that one night.
Then the next day, you threw me away.
I guess you were scared, didn’t trust me, and I didn’t know why. It drove me crazy.
For three straight weeks I didn’t see your face
and I was so depressed, thought I had been replaced.
You blew me off, so I moved out to Little Rock.
Tried to run away, but I can’t seem to ever forget you.
So, I came back, and then you left me again.
Said you thought we should just be friends.
And then summer blossomed and you came back around.
My heart was ablaze with the joy I had found.
So many summer nights with you in the passenger’s seat;
I never could ask for a memory more sweet.
Summer changed to fall and I didn’t see much of you.
Kept sneaking kisses in your kitchen, out of your parents’ view.
Fall turned to winter and you were out of reach.
Our fighting got worse, used mean words in speech.
So here we are again, and we’re back to Spring
and you have lost all faith in me.
Thrown our love to the curb, forgot about the memories.
And now here I am, crying on my knees
because you won’t try, won’t even believe me
when I say that I’ll be everything you need.
But don’t you see?
These good and bad memories still aren’t enough
and it’s not that you leaving is just tough.
I can’t forget you or even move on if I tried
because you are, without a doubt, the love of my life.
I will be waiting. Even if it means I wait forever.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 3:42 PM UTC
I love you like the way
I first fell in love,
at the first glance.
I love you like the way
you taught me about
true romance.
I love you like the way
I remember Valentine's day with fondness,
even though all I got were
workout pants.
I love you like the way
you played Sufjan Stevens
and extended your hand
for our first dance.
I love you like the way
you always stayed
when I shoved you away,
without saying sorry.
I love you like the way
you had to walk away
and now everyday is almost the best day
and please don't be sorry.
I love you like the way
I will always love you everyday.
And pray you find every joy
and forget every sorrow.
I love you like the way
I love someone with everything,
Like there is no tomorrow.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
Beneath me is a busy street, around me are caffeine fiends, behind me are friends, yet I am momentarily stuck on what I cannot reach. My mind has not left our last encounter.
We were both so still, neither of us knowing how to react, as the lyrics so accurately depicted our feelings toward one another.
Alone, silent, and constricted we listened. I was so hopeful, you were so distant. As we created together your sadness lifted and the air was different. We left our hearts in our heads and explored the humor we've always used. After creating you told me that you felt the only cure for depression was creation. I smiled and felt like crying as I looked at your eyes. I had no response.
"I feel I must be wearing my welcome. I must be moving on. My intentions were good intentions. I could have loved you, I could have changed you. I wouldn't be so, I wouldn't feel so consumed by selfish thoughts. I'm sorry if I feel self effacing, consumed by selfish thoughts. It's only that I still love you deeply, it's all the love I got," sang Sufjan. We so silently listened. We did not look at one another. We were both scared in that moment. I was scared in that moment. I did not expect what I heard, I was scared of what I heard, as he had taken the thoughts out of my head.
Perhaps those lyrics did not strike you in the way they struck me. They were piercing. But I know you; your thoughts wander to places that I cannot reach in those moments.
Your mind travels so far. I used to know where you went, in your fits of silence, but you have changed. I know so little as the direction. East, West, near, far. I can only guess.
Now I sit at the window, silently listening to music that we so recently silently listened to together. Still so accurately depicting how I feel.
You have changed, you have grown, you have shrunk. I have done the same, for better and for worse. Our love is seemingly lost, but still lingers in every conversation and glance and thought.
This same place, where I wrote about you, both good and bad, where I spoke to you on the phone, where we came together. This place has not changed at all. It doesn't know how much we've changed, how much you've changed, or how much I've changed. But in some ways, we are just like this place in which I sit - we haven't changed. We remain the same.
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
Few will know these things and fewer still will understand what this is to me in this moment of tonight.
But I really don't care because what I feel right now is real and I haven't felt the feeling of real in a while.
Today is my birthday. I'm older now. Wiser? Maybe, maybe not. I definitely went through enough when I was 18.
Now is my time to learn from it. And I'm kicking it off with a night of listening to an album I have abandoned.
Age of Adz. By Sufjan Stevens. And it's different now I think, I wasn't older yet, I wasn't wise I guess.
I want so much to be at rest. And I will fall asleep to an old friend singing of futile devices, getting real, getting right, and dear impossible souls.
And I will cry at the memories but relate it with new. Because today is a day of transition.
Because I want to be well. And I'm not ******* around.
Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 1:34 AM UTC
I don’t necessarily fear death. The thing is that I know it is going to happen and although I may never fully understand why it must or grasp the concept of it, I accept it, I accept death just as much as I do living, but the thing here is…I still haven’t fallen in love a second time after having my heart broken that first time. There are many note cards I haven’t written to the people I love, to the people I admire. There are botanical gardens I’ve never been to and literal roads I’ve yet to take. I want to drive through them, walk through them, jog through them on foggy morning, sunny evening, mid-winter day. I’ve never tried playing the banjo, bought a lottery ticket, or lived with roommates or a boyfriend on the second floor of a four story apartment that overlooks a deli shop somewhere in Los Angeles or New York City. I still haven’t treated my grandmother to a gals day out, I’ve never dyed my hair some absurd color, I’ve yet to taste a crème brûlée. There are so many courses I still want to take, so many things I still want to learn, clubs on campus that I want to be a part of, books I’ve yet to read, songs I want to listen and re-listen to. There are still things, so many things, there are still the words “I’ve yet” and “still” and more than anything the words “I’ve never.” These are the words, these are things that get to me, that fill me with restless thoughts and wavering emotions at 5 05 am. I can hear birds chirping and roosters cooing from outside my window, my parents heartbeats are lovely and synchronized a bedroom over, the voice of sufjan stevens is resonating from my laptops speakers, my legs feel hot underneath this linen sheet and woven blanket, my eyes don’t feel as tired as they probably should, and I am not ready. I’m not ready to let this all go. not yet. and that, although not death itself, is my greatest fear of dying.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC
It’s gotten bad
Not bad as in this feeling will pass
Bad as in not caring if I crash my car and don’t survive
At least it’ll be an excuse for dying
I imagine what my funeral would look like
Hope mom would know Id want daisies, sufjan Stevens playing and my face looking the same way it did in everyday life
Vanity still exists in death
Dad used to have his up and down days
He still does
The way to survive?
Lock in all up in the imaginary vault you hold in yourself
Hold all the negative thoughts
anger
sadness
Hold em hostage
Don’t let them see the light
The one flaw in his plan was the outbursts he’d have from the demons escaping for a little while
Wouldn’t happen for a month
few weeks
two weeks
few days
everyday
Sometimes I think some of them escaped him and found their way into me and that’s why I have an unjustified anger blooming in my aching chest that I can’t silence
It’s no excuse for what I say when I lose control
When my apologies reach the thousands to the point where they don’t matter
I’m sorry
That I can’t make up my mind
That I can’t do what’s best for me
That I do things to hurt myself
That I think I deserve pain
That I can’t stop saying sorry
I need to stop feeling sorry
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:52 PM UTC
It wasn't long before He sent you a helper,
and you knew it right away.
But what if we just made
a mess of the whole thing.
Made just for you,
but you missed the boat
did ya?
Noah said this ride is only for two,
and He left you there.
And boy, I miss ya...
Almost all the time.
But He told me to keep moving,
I just wonder why you're always on my line.
But I don't like this kind of losing...
Maybe that's not my place.
But He and you both see it in my face.
So I try to learn to bite my tongue.
And I'm not sure how it got so deep...
But it isn't up to me,
And no, it never was.
Except when I loved you only for me,
then got stuck loving you because
you set me free...
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
I'm a heavy philosopher when I'm drugged up, I sing The General Specific in bed with the Elf Queen.
How many thousands of times did we make awkward eye contact,
And then receded out of our shells
To both ponder our crises with Sufjan Stevens sad verses falling out from the ceiling.
I've fallen directly in love with life in the nighttime.
///
I'm sure that there was some cloud of fog when I slumped out from your room.
There was a physical haze I was trapped under
Trying to feed you harmony, melody and restore your confidence.
Reading your signals, it says your words don't match the hurting in your eyes,
And that scares me.
In reading the Russian legend of the Snow Maiden,
Doesn't she have to melt in the summer?
It's the delicate balance of nature that ruins any hope I conjure,
But with the temperature dropping below freezing
I'd just as well preserve my happiness
Until I can't control its thawing out
And imminent disintegration.
That, of all things, can wait.
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 12:51 PM UTC
There is a
Chuck Taylor black energy connecting
Every one of my couch’s teens
But please don’t generalize a single spirit
And especially stay away from adjectives like
“angsty” and “misunderstood”
Never accuse them of such a cliché travesty
At such an age spotlighted syndrome stage
The Sufjan Stevens song she brings in has the same yearning
That another’s canon snaps with trapped black and whites
That same shadow tangos with the forced-into-therapy-tween’s
faint scalloped smile lines
of times before, when she had not been hunting for her own identity
When she could spin around the willow
And not worry about her eyelet ******* peeking through
Then the cloud covered eighteen year old daisy
Drags amber strands across forehead while she murmers
Blame that oozes from her juvenile jawline, mirroring
The prior sweetheart that stormed out of my office at 3:00pm
Tawny strands across her wrist
And how could I ever forget the last string of fiber
Fierce and cross armed
The last knot to the cat’s cradle of adolescent midnight string
“I know I will conquer my genetic hand”
She declares
Bubblegum harbored in fleshy cheek
Whiskers and all.
I hold sacred in my bones
The appendage I am in all of this
wide eyed need
And I let the walls absorb their sighs
Until, in awe I witness
the beauty in vulnerability
Again
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
You somehow had the strange ability to make me feel everything
While simultaneously making me feel like I was nothing
I'll say this, you sparked in me a love for music
Specifically Sufjan Stevens
No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross kills me
**** me I'm falling apart"
"Here's a coin, call someone who cares"
If you ever called, I would have cared
I wouldn't have ever stooped that low
I don't miss you and some days I hate you
I hope your life is everything you wished
I know you've been searching for something more, same as me
-Ranita
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 9:57 AM UTC