And the day crashed down
Like a wave
Pulling away the certainty of newness
As soon as it had pressed its lips to mine.
And casting back all the things I thought I would never see again.
When you let stones go, they float and sink and get tugged away, free.
And loves too. But then they come back to you, when you want only the new.
Please let me be with you.
And forget the past
Like waves that become something
Like they've never been before.
I wish i could erase you
from my history
and forget what it felt like when you touched me
and the rain on our skin when we biked past those pumping throbbing anxious houses...
the riots in the streets forgotten..
I would forget the wisp of smoke. the dotted line that connected at the mouth. the how to guide for first encounters
the holding on. the dancing.
the patience. the listening.
I would forget it all.
scrub it away.
delete the history
Because you did
Is anyone Happy anymore?
Did they teach us how in the class rooms?
where we learned to be cruel
and pick at the open sores
and find the chinks in the armor...
Where we learned about love
and how it makes you weak
and we learned about Joy
and where it comes from.
Dominance and Praise, and adults who tell us we are
And don't forget. to waste your time
filling all the gaps in your mind.
and schedule in success. But not too much.
and collect wealth until your mansion stands tall
and casts shadows on the green grass
and wonder if you missed the class
on how to be happiest
You can say anything.
talk about the trees. and the butterflies and how love feels
or some ****
But to be a good poet
you have to practice, think about what sounds better
learn the long words
or the advancement of gramar
bend the rules after you've learned them.
and take pride in the fact that I AM A POET
print business cards or some ****
buy a leather jacket and always carry a writing book.
tell lovers pretty things that weave you in mystery
to be a GREAT POET
just write the truth
and tear the world apart
Why do my poems
after I write them..
When did it become the law
that you had to live the stories
that you wrote.
I wish I wrote fantasy
and not tragedy
When I bloom
my skin is sweet
my eyes are brilliant
my words are music
and my lips are honey.
and when i cry
and i'm alone.
the birds find roost
in a different tree
and the bees find nectar
far from me
we are earthlings
and toxic words drench our bodies
and clog up our rivers and arteries
with sugary fakeness and farcities
and smoggy neglect
and hate we elect
leaders that fail and fail
our kids who cut their arms
and smoke pretty rings of smoke to the sky
that hasn't had stars
in a long time.